There was a little girl who was born to a beautiful and kind woman. That woman showered the little girl with love and affection and doted on her at every possible occasion.
 
They had no money, and food was scarce. They hunted what they could to survive another day, but they had each other, and that was enough for the little girl.
 
The girl loved running and exploring the forests surrounding their home, and she found it effortless to climb trees and scale the rock walls that encircled the forest.
 
She didn’t know it then, but something was awakening inside her; she was far stronger and faster than a child should be, let alone a girl.
 
The girl's mother seemed unconcerned, so the little girl just assumed it was natural. That was until one day reality came calling. A strange and muscular man dressed in ornate robes came to our door one sweltering summer day.
 
The little girl's mother’s face, usually dancing with color, grew completely pale, and her hand started to tremble uncontrollably.
 
He never once looked at the terrified mother; however, his eyes were fixated entirely on the little girl, the little girl shaking while she clung to her mother's legs.
 
He stepped closer to the girl, prattling on and on about how lucky you are and how she was blessed with tremendous potential and had been deemed worthy.
 
He then grabbed the little girl by the arm and started to take her away. The little girl struggled, but even with her strength, the man’s grip was tighter than any vice.
 
The little girl bit his hand as hard as he could, but it didn’t seem to phase the man. The next thing the little girl saw was her mother rushing towards the man with a large knife stretched out.
 
He blocked the knife with a single finger while throwing the girl hard against the wall with the other hand. With a snap of his finger, the little girl was bound by black vines that wound themselves around her like snakes.
 
The man then proceeded to batter, rape, and murder my... I mean, the little girl's mother. While the little girl cried and begged the man to stop,
 
The girl cried, begged, and screamed until her voice grew hoarse and she gave out.
 
Through stinging tear-stained eyes, the little girl saw her mother trying to reach out to comfort her cherished child even as she was beaten, even as she was defiled and brutally murdered. Her only thoughts were of her baby girl.
 
Once the man had finished his vile business and cleaned, he washed his hands of the juices, blood and viscera. He sat with the young girl for a spell.
 
Telling her about how he wanted a taste of what her father had before they hit the road.
 
The girl glared; her tears and cries fell away, turning into malice and a burning hatred, but what could she do against this man? The girl knew she had to be clever; she had to survive.
 
The girl soon learned that she was indeed special; she was a member of the Serpico clan of assassins, the most infamous clan of assassins in living memory. The kind that ended regimes and warred with entire nations behind the scenes.
 
The clan had dozens and dozens of members, each a hardened killer, but among the ranks of the clan was the coveted Thirteen. The upper echelon of the clan, its strongest members, and the ruling class.
 
Each of them is blessed with one of the dark boons of Belphegor the Faceless, the founder and first patriarch of the Serpico clan. And the little girl was lucky to inherit one of those dark boons, and that made her invaluable to the clan.
 
Even if she was just some low-born wretch, an accident from the impulsive rape of a defenseless young village girl, she had Serpico blood all the same, so the how was irrelevant.
 
The young girl met the man who saved her one day in the inner sanctum of the clan. He initially seemed proud of me until he realized that the little girl wasn’t a boy. The girl's boyish hair made that an easy fact to overlook.
 
He told the little girl that from this day on she was to live the remainder of her life as a boy, by the name of Belphegor, in honor of the clan’s great founder. Bel, for short.
 
I was then taken away to the House of Silence, the clan’s training grounds, where I was taught the blade and subterfuge.
 
How to lie and manipulate people like marionettes. I was personally taught the art of torture and how to break people by figuring out what gets under their skin and how to enjoy the pain, both giving it and receiving it.
 
A scared little girl went in, and a monster came out—the Vermillion Reaper—that's what they called me.
 
‘Don’t look so shocked, Master; you wanted to know the truth, didn’t you?
 
My name is Belphegor Ars Serpico!
 
I’ve killed more people than I care to remember—men, women and children too.
 
And there you have it. I’ve spilled my guts and told you everything, not skimping on a single ghastly detail.
 
So tell me, Master... What will you do now?