~ Home. That’s all it could remember. It didn’t remember it’s name. It’s gender. It’s appearance. It’s age. Nothing. All it could see was darkness and it had to be around 40 degrees. It was freezing. It didn’t know anyone else existed. It just had itself. And it’d make it work. It had to. It was all it could do. It just had to assess the situation. It was alone in— whatever this place was— and didn’t remember anything. Was that good or bad..? It shook its head. That didn’t matter. It sat up and hugged its knees, panting a little. It glanced around and saw something. It tilted his head and crawled over to it. It put the object into it’s hands and tilted its head, feeling it. The object was cold, shiny, and sharp. The object also had a handle, and it could see someone in its blade. It blinked. Staring back at it was someone with brown, long hair that was a mess, extremely pale skin and orange eyes. Who was this person in the object, and why were they

just staring at it like that? ~ E. I’m too lazy to type anything else.