Shadow Bug

Bruises and scars on the surface of her skin

They used her body like an item for their needs

She was labeled a monster when she fought for herself

But what about you, who used her for yourselves?

I grew up in a small town called Nirvia. Most people have never heard of it, and it's not even on the country's map. Life there was miserable. I never knew my father, and I hated my mother. She made it clear every day that I was a mistake she never wanted.

My mother's name was Natana Hawks, the owner of a brothel where she had other girls who slept with men who came in looking for a good time and earned money from it. But ultimately, every money made would be given to my mom and she would then pay the girls their share of the total sum.

According to the other girls, my father was one of my mom's customers who didn't use a condom when he went to meet her for..... and when she found out she was pregnant, she decided to keep me instead of going for an abortion. And so I was born into this shitty household.

I think my mom was frustrated by the fact that she couldn't find my father, and she ended up taking that frustration out on me every day. But during that time, the other girls stepped in to look after me while my mom focused on her "work." They treated me like a younger sister, and I came to see them as my older sisters. For a while, life felt peaceful.

That is…..until I turned 18.

That's when my mother decided I was old enough to start working for her at the brothel. On my 18th birthday, she forced me into a room with a man who was probably close to her age and told me to sleep with him. I couldn't understand it. It sounded so absurd to me. When I refused, her true nature came out. She started beating me every time I didn't comply with her demands. She used a branch from the honey locust tree out front, striking me over and over, her words cutting deeper than the blows.

"I wish I never gave birth to an ungrateful child like you"

"You owe me everything for taking care of you for the past 18 years"

"You're a cursed child!!! Why won't you do what I say!?"

Each strike felt like it was breaking something inside me, but all I could do was whisper through my tears:

"I'm sorry"

"I'm sorry"

"I'm sorry"

"I'm sorry"

As a result of all the beatings I took from my mother, I got scars on every part of my body. So to avoid taking beatings from my mother, I decided to do everything that she said and to service her clients whenever they showed up. And that also brought another problem.

Everywhere I went, the men in the town looked at me with eyes full of lust, and I hated it. I knew it was because of my body, and I felt powerless against it. When I tried to talk to my so-called sisters about it, they only mocked me.

"What did you expect?"

"You work in a brothel now, so get used to it"

"That's what you're worried about? You're lucky you're useful for something otherwise your mother would've thrown you out"

Their words stung, and it wasn't long before the teasing turned into bullying—mocking me for the scars on my body, my pink hair and for daring to dream of finding someone who might love and respect me.

It only got worse at home. My mother started beating me again whenever she felt the money I brought in from "work" wasn't enough. Trying to explain myself was pointless; she would beat me no matter what.

At 22, I finally reached my breaking point. Fed up with the life I'd been trapped in, I decided to confront my mother. I was leaving the brothel, no matter what she said.

Lorra: I'm leaving, Mother. I can't do this anymore.

Natana Hawks, a stern looking woman with a nose ring & navy blue hair which differed from Lorra's pink hair, turned her chair around when Lorra made such a bold statement.

Natana: Leaving? To where?

Lorra: I don't care. I'm leaving this place. I'm done with this life.

Natana: (scuffs) You're not going anywhere. There are clients coming tonight, and you have a job to do.

Lorra: I won't do it. I won't be part of this anymore. I'm leaving.

Natana: (coldly) You can't leave. You haven't been given permission. You have a debt to pay. Stop with this childish nonsense, Lorra.

Lorra: (furious) WHY DON'T YOU CARE ABOUT ME, MOTHER? Every day, you let those men do whatever they want to me! Do you ever think about how I feel?

Natana: (dismissive) Of Course I care about you. I've taken care of you for the past twenty two years haven't I?

Lorra:(shouts) YOU CALL EVERYTHING YOU DID TO ME, "TAKING CARE OF ME"!?

Natana: (unmoved) Of course. You haven't fallen ill for the past twenty two years have you? You never went hungry for the past twenty two years did you? You always had a roof over your head for the past twenty two years didn't you? I did all that because I care. All you have to do is to work off that debt you owe. Now if you get that, then get ready for the clients I told you about.

Lorra: (tears welling up) No. I'M NOT GOING TO DO WHAT YOU SAY ANY MORE. YOU'RE JUST USING ME AS AN MEANS TO AN END AND I DON'T WANT TO LIVE LIKE THIS ANYMORE.

Suddenly, without warning, Natana slapped Lorra, sending her crashing to the ground. Her mother's heavy boots pounded on Lorra's body as the same cruel words she'd heard for years rang in her ears.

Natana: (stomping on Lorra) WHY ARE YOU BEING SO DIFFICULT, YOU CURSED CHILD!? I'VE DONE EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO MAKE SURE YOU SURVIVE, TO SEE YOU REPAY ME FOR EVERYTHING I'VE DONE FOR YOU, AND YOU WANT TO LEAVE JUST LIKE THAT!? NOT A CHANCE IN HELL. WHY ARE YOU SO STUBBORN!? WHY DID I HAVE TO GIVE BIRTH TO A CHILD LIKE YOU?!

For some strange reason, every time my mother laid her hands on me, I would picture my mindset as a rose. Each time she struck me, petals would fall, symbolizing the slow crumbling of my state of mind. I never understood why this image haunted me so much, until the final petal fell and all that remained were the thorns of the stem. In that moment, I finally understood.

But not in the way I had imagined.

It was then, as I stood at the edge of despair, that my shadow technique awakened.

Though Natana Hawks had always been human, Lorra had believed herself to be human as well. But that belief shattered in an instant, as a dark power surged from within her. Unconsciously, Lorra summoned a massive rose thorn from inside my own body, which stabbed her mother in the stomach. The shock was immediate—her life was snuffed out in an instant.

Lorra stood frozen, unable to fully comprehend what had just transpired. Before she could make sense of the situation, the room was flooded with people rushing in. They were greeted by the horrifying sight of Natana, stabbed through the chest by a massive rose thorn, with Lorra standing motionless in a pool of her mother's blood.

The crowd outside, mostly Lighters, confirmed what had become painfully clear: Lorra was a Shadow. The realization struck like a thunderclap, not just to the onlookers, but to Lorra herself. She had always assumed, with the certainty of youth, that she was human—after all, her mother was human. But now, with her shadow technique awakened and the confirmation from those present, the truth began to sink in.

She was not her mother's daughter in the way she thought.

The answer was simple yet devastating: she was a Shadow because of her father.

Her father, whose identity she had never truly understood, was the one who had shaped her in ways she hadn't known.

Due to her awakening and the uncontrolled use of her shadow technique, Lorra had exhausted too much shadow energy, which led to the creation of the thorn that killed Natana. The overwhelming strain of the energy had caused her to pass out.

When Lorra regained consciousness, she found herself tied to a wooden stake, surrounded by an angry crowd. The people of Nirvia had decided her fate—burn her alive, rather than call the HFA to handle her. It wasn't just a few individuals; the entire town stood before her, demanding her death. Her so-called sisters, her clients, even those who had once been her friends and neighbors, were all part of the mob.

Lorra struggled to explain herself, but her words were drowned out by the venomous shouts of the crowd. They jeered at her with hateful names:

"MONSTER"

"WITCH"

"MURDERER"

"EVIL CREATURE"

"DEMON FILTH"

As the insults rained down upon her, Lorra couldn't help but find it all absurd. The same men who had used her body for their own pleasure, the "sisters" who had bullied and dehumanized her, were now the ones calling her a MONSTER. A bitter laugh escaped her lips, her voice a mixture of disbelief and cynicism.

Lorra: (laughs bitterly and addresses the crowd) I'm a monster!? What about all of you who used to sleep beside me every night? What about those of you who laughed at my scars, who bullied me for the way I look? None of you ever cared about how your actions affected me, but I'm the monster now? Fucking hypocrites!!!

Her words only fueled the crowd's anger, and they began to intensify the flames at the stake she was tied to. Lorra braced herself for the flames as they crept higher, her clothes starting to catch fire.

But then…

A sudden rush of water poured over the flames, dousing them in an instant. The crowd turned in surprise, eyes wide, as they saw Zero standing at the edge, his presence commanding attention.

The lighters in the crowd felt a strange energy emanating from him—something they couldn't quite identify—and for a moment, they were paralyzed with confusion. Zero moved through the crowd, unbothered by their stares, and approached Lorra. Without hesitation, he used his water technique to slice the ropes binding her, and caught her gently as she collapsed from the strain.

Zero: Are you alright?

Lorra: (confused and wary) Who are you?

Zero: (with a calm smile) Me? I'm Zero. Nice to meet you.

Lorra: (still suspicious) What do you want with me?

Zero: (carefully lowering her to the ground) I know a lot about you, Lorra. And I need your help.

Lorra: (glaring) Need my help? What for?

Lorra quickly became aware of her exposed state, her clothes burned away by the flames, and she instinctively covered herself, assuming Zero's interest was the same as every other man who had taken advantage of her.

Zero: (noticing her discomfort) Oh, no, I don't mean it like that. (He quickly removes his jacket and offers it to her.) Here, take this.

Lorra: (hesitating, then accepting the jacket and putting it on) Alright, fine. But what do you need my help for, anyway?

Zero: (seriously) I want to create a world where people can live in peace without hurting each other.

Lorra: (skeptical) Yeah? And what's that got to do with me?

Zero: I know everything you've been through." (He gestures toward the crowd, still watching from afar.) "These people never cared about you. They used you, dehumanized you, and now, because you're a shadow, they want to kill you. They call you a monster, but the truth is, they are the real monsters. I won't treat you that way, Lorra. I promise I'll build a world where people respect you—not because you're a shadow, but because of who you are. You're stronger than you think, and I need that strength to make this world a reality. What do you say? (He stretches out his hand toward her.)

For the first time in her life, someone said something kind to Lorra. Words she never knew she wanted to hear. She looked into Zero's eyes, and for the first time, she saw honesty—no lies, no hidden agendas. He wasn't like the others. His smile, gentle and sincere, was a promise she could finally believe in.

In that moment, Lorra felt something stir within her—a feeling she hadn't known for years. She felt seen. And for the first time, someone truly accepted her. She took his hand, her heart racing.

Zero: (smiling) I can take that as a yes?

Lorra: (blushing, hiding her face) Yeah.

Zero: (grinning) Thank you, Lorra.

But as the crowd saw Lorra's allegiance to Zero, their fury intensified. They rushed at him, weapons raised, intent on ending him. But Lorra stepped forward, positioning herself between Zero and the oncoming attack. In that moment, something in her snapped.

Lorra had once overheard a conversation between her "sisters" about how lighters chant "White" and shadows chant "Black" to activate their techniques. The memory surfaced, sharp and clear. As the crowd closed in, she whispered the word—BLACK.

Instantly, dark vines began to erupt from the scars on the left side of her body, twisting and writhing like a living thing. Her shadow technique had unlocked—unstoppable, violent, and pure in its fury.

Without hesitation, Lorra lunged forward. The rose thorns and plant vines that grew from her body became her weapons. She moved with a deadly grace, each strike felling one of her would-be attackers. The women who had once called her sister, the men who had used her for their pleasure—one by one, they fell, their bodies pierced by the thorns, their lives extinguished by the very hands they had once controlled.

In the chaos, Lorra felt a surge of liberation—like a dam had burst, releasing all the fury she had bottled up for years. The rose that had represented her mental state now reflected her complete unraveling. The last petal had fallen, and with it, the fragile part of her that still clung to hope.

She slaughtered them all. And when the last of her tormentors lay at her feet, Lorra stood among the blood, her breath heavy, her heart numb. The seed of her destruction had been planted long ago, but now, it had fully bloomed.