I wasn't always the one being hunted. I used to be the hunter. Back when I followed orders without question. When they were my entire world. When they were my saviours.
I learned though. They didn't want me to, but I did. It wasn't this overnight realization. It more of a journey. One that took months of questioning. Weeks of denial. Days of acceptance. Hours of planning. Minutes of escape. And years of running.
In an organization like that, where you are taught to hunt monsters, and ordered to inflict as much pain as needed, there is two outcomes. Either you take pride in the work you're doing to rid the world of monsters, or you come to realize who the real monsters are.
Perspective and empathy were uncommon. Instead we were fed prejudice, and hate. From early on we are taught the evils these beings could accomplish. We were shown the evidence of the destruction one attack could cause, in all its gory detail. They told us stories of the many victims and legends of the rare survivors. We had no reason to question it. I had no reason to question it. Until I met one.
She was the sweetest thing anyone could every meet. She showed me a world not filled with pain, fear and anguish. But one filled with compassion, love, and belonging. These beings that they claimed could and would kill without mercy, were merely protecting their own. They were protecting the young, the elderly, and the Knowledge.
She opened my eyes to the true world.
This is based off of a prompt
