Class, a long boring run. Sitting through it just to learn things never to really be used... well the one used he had was actually fencing. That taught him more than most classes and it was beyond over for the day. He was a rare one here to even excel at it, but most did try to be easy for him. Why? His left arm. Daryl, had never told the truth on why he kept it bandaged. Yes there was a reason, a reason no one could understand or believe but his own comrades who had seen his great great great great grandfather in person. No one could have a "four great" grandfather alive but Daryl did. The school he went to was for supernatural beings and human hybrids of rich bloodline. The male was not only a rich lead but also a rare hybrid, a Mummy. This was a being whose flesh was easily impaired, but could fill out into full health if eating whatever part matched what was damaged on themselves. However Daryl... Could not do this. His was different. The ragged bloody mass under the gauze, could unravel like a wrap, and become any weapon he desired so long as it was a type of blade. Now, how he learned of this was a story he hated to tell others. It was a dream that came to him on most days.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Daryl! Feed your dog!" Cried out a woman from far down the hallway. Daryl, age twelve, he ran down the hall and laughed as his Doberman ran over and bounced about excitedly. It was a puppy with floppy ears and light brown fur. Daryl loved his friend, but it then turned to hell. The puppy suddenly started growling, it's eyes held a dangerous gaze as it looked by its human. Daryl froze and looked behind him before bolting and taking his snarling puppy as men broke into the house beating his mother, two brothers, and father. Daryl ran and hid in his room under his bed, shushing his puppy he cried as he heard his parents yelling and his brothers. Then silence. He waited and soon came out from the bed, he walked out of his room and was grabbed screaming he told his puppy to run and get help. The puppy ran and dodged every suited man after him. Soon disappearing as Daryl was knocked unconscious. Waking up later to being dragged by his feet Daryl glared and squirmed. Seeing the man come closer he poked him in the eyes and was let go. <br/><br/>Running and running Daryl ran through the warehouse. Only to find his brothers... Strung up on a table, naked, being skinned by a few suited men. He was frozen and scared. Backing up he fell over, tears flooding down his face as he saw the two were awake but drugged. Their expressions... Killing part of his soul. He got up and ran to find his mom and dad. Petrified and mortified of the scene he ran non stop till he saw his father was being skinned alive as well. The boy fell down and crawled behind a few crates, curled up he shook with terror. Soon a voice came. <br/><br/>"this is what you get for defying us. Not paying your debts." A man said before someone stopped him. The man laughed, "Seems your youngest won't suffer yet. He went missing." Daryl gulped and shivered. His dad's agonized and drugged up voice came, "Fu-ck... You... He will... E-esc-escape." A slap resounded followed by a scream. The shrill scream then went on as his father was skinned more. Moving the boy crawled into the hall. Hearing strange noises he followed and heard his mom's voice call out muffledly. Standing he walked and shook, "M-mommy?" He called out before he found the room and opened it. Only to see her fucking a male. He ducked into the shadows. Hurt and upset. His mom was fine... But... She betrayed his family? All before he saw red, and her naked body on the floor. Stunned and unable to move he was grabbed by a man. Daryl was like a doll, unmoving and traumatized. <br/><br/>Strung up he was prepped for skinning. Too out of it from the drug, and the trauma- Daryl could only let tears fall. They began to skin his left arm. Slicing off the flesh and peeling it. Only before all he could hear was terrorized screams and seeing a suited man with blood sprayed on him, as well as his exposed parts wrapped in linen strips. A barking sounded...</span><br/><br/>Jolting awake Daryl sat up and was scared a bit as he saw his Doberman. But he hugged the dog and nuzzled it, "Angora... Thank you... Thank you for rescuing me years ago." Yes, his Doberman was the puppy but Angora had been very very young. He stroked her short fur and got up, walking to his closet and got dressed. Daryl was followed by his friend and came to see his grandfather was still in his coffin. Walking out he headed down the street to the alley. His Doberman not too far behind as he looked around. No school today for him. It was a fight. He loved those days. He sat on an old car with no wheels and stroked his dog's fur. Watching as people would soon be pouring out of the wood work.<br/><br/>It was true he still was traumatized but, he was given therapy for years till he was able to talk again. Now... Now he was slowly becoming a Mafia head. His family was slowly forming. And no one feared him more than the street fighters.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://i490.photobucket.com/albums/rr268/Velkonsdarkness/175E7617-1CA9-4B51-8EB2-14E6CF610953-535-0000006A162D067F_zps6442479d.jpg">Daryl</a>