[My loyal servants and I just destroyed this pathetic little town. We've slain dozens of people in this place. I tortured hundreds of them with my own two hands. Their screams and pleas for mercy echoing throughout the night. Their blood is scattered throughout the town, splattered on my dress, and dripping off my hands. After putting the town to ruin and leaving it to burn, I heard a faint cry. But each step I took was becoming harder for me. Why? The innocent little whimpers wouldn't let me leave. I returned to the center of the town and found an 8 year old child crying for her mother, who was long dead in the rubble of a collapsed building. Memories of my traumatic past come back to me with the echoes of her cries. I hand her my rose, a symbol for my loyal servants to spare her life. They all saw the rose in the child's hand, and already knew that the child now belonged to me. I extended my hand to her and she quickly took it without hesitation, admiring the rose I gifted her. I took her away with me saying, "My name is Nyxa, little one. I guess you're not afraid of me, huh."]

Contributor of the prompt:  Zuleihat...   Thank you!

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