shiva vallante. d6. fin.

She was a gem among five children. The only girl, their precious flower, and someone who could follow in her mother's footsteps.

"You want to be a teacher when you grow up, don't you?"

They were all supposed to be academics. Perfect in school, always on their best behavior, model children. They would become scientists, doctors, teachers, peacekeepers - what parent didn't want success for their children? For the Vallantes, it was an obsession. Shiva was told exactly what she was going to be before she could make the decision herself. Her mother was a teacher, and therefore Shiva had been designed for the position as well. Her parents even signed her up to volunteer at the daycare when she grew older. Those maternal instincts were supposed to kick in naturally, right?

Something didn't quite click. Babysitting drooling monsters was not how Shiva wanted to spend her time. She did it to appease her parents, yet wondered why her brothers didn't have to do the same. Her grades were just as perfect as theirs, if not better. Why did she have to be the caretaker?

Shiva quickly grew bored. She didn't care about kids or teaching. Spending the rest of her life in a classroom sounded like a nightmare. She was clever, but studying was boring. Her brothers didn't share the same sentiment, but their lives had been mapped out for them as well. They seemed all too willing to appease their parents rather than developing unique interests of their own. The only brothers she respected were the twins - schemers, but too cowardly to execute anything.

The only thing that sparked her interest was what happened after school.

Bullies in the hallways preying on the week. She would watch them behind corners, unmoving, uncaring of the victim's thoughts or feelings. Her brothers attempted to stand up to these bullies and the outcome was always different. Sometimes her oaf brothers could scare them off, painting them heroes of the hallways. Other times, the bullies were ruthless.

When a physical fight broke out, she couldn't help but stare in awe at the bully's masterful beating of her brother. His movements were calculated rather than sloppy and unpracticed. He quite literally handed his ass to him despite his larger height and mass.

She had always been a rowdy one, but this was different. This wasn't Shiva taking mile runs after school or playing rough with other children on the playground to prove herself. This was a real fight. Something that would horrify her parents to no end.

It didn't take her long to seek the bully out and ask him how he learned his skills. Being a bully, he didn't care to speak to her. When she requested a teacher, he denied her.

She had her ways.

"What, you afraid a girl will kick your ass if you teach me?"

She got her ass knocked down for that, but it worked; she had a teacher and a new hobby.

Her boredom was cured. There was a special thrill in fighting, something she had never experienced before. Nothing compared to the satisfaction of knocking down an opponent. When she was good enough, her teacher invited other people to face her. She would lose, and lose, but always stand up again until she was good enough to win. As her reputation began to grow, sinister eyes fell upon her.

Returning home covered in bruises didn't impress her parents. Not their delicate flower, roughhousing with other kids! Shiva was slick; she lied and lied again, claiming she fell during her runs or kids were picking on her. It disgusted her to act like such a weakling, but she needed them off of her trail. The last thing she wanted was for them to ruin her new opportunities.

The boys - her fighting friends - introduced her to the drug cartel. A big underground business that needed sellers, killers, and muscle to keep their gears turning. It also paid well, very well. More than she would ever make as a measly schoolteacher.

She took the job in a heartbeat. Guarding drug houses, leading interrogations, beating up enemies - this was what she wanted to do. She had power. Rarely did anyone stand up to her smartass comments or sarcastic insults. Rarely was there a dull moment.

Call it an addiction; she is here to stay.