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I Am Valkyr - You Won't Like Her When She's Angry...


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They say that anger is a dangerous thing. Something to be contained, to absorb into yourself until it disappears, before it damages you in the worst days.

 

To hell with them, I say. They would not be crowing such useless advice if they had suffered as I had.

 

I stand again where I was once held captive, clinically clean in oppose to the horrors that were committed to me and my kin. I know I am not alone, but my hunger for revenge drove me forward, outpacing and ripping through patrols. I am prepared to get my pound of flesh by the one behind this travesty.

 

I see him before me now, my ex-captor. Laughing at me, claiming how I had returned for more. My blood boils, as he dares to be so arrogant. I will break his bones and send his mangled corpse to it's end in the void for his folly of losing his control before.

 

I scream out in unchained rage and he recoils, my hatred of him amplifying every second. I draw nearer, energy crackling at feet and fist, and his strange equipment quickly activates, a shadow in the corner quickly leaping before me. That horrid creature, built from parts of my brothers and sisters. Parts. Of. ME.

 

Like a cat before string, my attention wavers, focused on the monster. It should not exist, I will not let it exist.

 

A cry of fury leaves me as I leap towards it, the Corpus devices bolted to my arms acting as blunt instruments of hate as I strike at it. The beast moves with a grace and agility that is most unlike the machine that it is, and my bloodlust builds as I recognize the subtle movements as those of my own kin. I press my attack onward, howls of my displeasure leaving my masked face each time my strike fails to hit.

 

I can hear the pathetic man behind the monster laughing at my failures, and my blood burns with hatred burning like the sun. I whirl around to him, and my hand extends as if to grab him from this distance. Coming to my aid and whim, a beam of light lances forward, striking him in that stupid collar and sending him careening into a wall.

 

The hiss of breaking electronics and the groans of injury quickly are followed by the sounds of the master's pet powering itself down. The shattered collar rattles off, doing a pathetic attempt to roll away before collapsing a few short feet from it's fallen controller.

 

I begin to properly approach to the source of my affliction, and my rage begins to manifest, sharpened claws of anger and hate forming around the bracers of my bondage. I begin to grin uncontrollably, and for a moment I worry about the look my compatriots would give me if they were to see the madness growing in my eyes.

 

But, if madness is what I must become to prevent this from happening again, I will welcome it with open arms.

 

I am the captive given power, the broken wing with a chance to fly again. Madness and rage given flesh.

 

I am Valkyr.

Edited by GratuitousLurking
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