Lorelei — that was her name. A name that inspired fear and cruelty throughout the path of those unlucky enough to meet such a being.
She was born in a small town not far from the ocean. Though surrounded by a dense forest that isolated it from the rest of the world — with only a single dirt path leading into town, mostly used by merchants — it was still considered a nice place to live. Or so people thought.
Truth be told, famine had reigned over the town for decades now. The town was not necessarily poor; most families were actually well-off. But the demands for food were never met, for reasons still unknown to this present day. It was as though the kingdom had deemed them worthless and unneeded for their own benefit, leaving them to wither away on their own.
Her family was not spared either.
In the town, food was gold. And unfortunately for them, they were not rich enough to afford even simple necessities, let alone food. Her father had to steal from other dwellings just to provide enough for his wife. His body was already crippled and sick; he had lost an eye from being stabbed during one of his thefts. He already knew he did not have long to live.
"Might as well not waste the food on a dead man," he said to himself while walking away from town, after giving the stolen food to his pregnant wife. He kissed her on the forehead a final time before departing far enough to find a place where he could fall into an eternal slumber, never to wake up again.
The newborn baby clung to her mother's soft hands with her tiny fingers. Then, suddenly, she stopped moving — as if something was being drained out of her, as if her very life was being taken away. Despite the feeling, her mother still hugged her and smiled.
"Lorelei — that is her name," she said to the woman who had assisted with the birth.
Not even a second later, she dropped dead on the ground.
This marked the beginning.
From that moment on, Lorelei was submitted to nature's only rule: survival. Rumours spread through the town, and soon enough, she had already been given a nickname — the fiend. She had no one to rely on. And anyone who came into contact with her soon ended up greeting heaven's gate.
Time passed, and she barely grew. She didn't have much food to eat. If she were lucky, she would be able to get a loaf of bread from the kind merchant around the street. If she weren't, she could spend days without having a single thing to eat.
In town, there was a merchant who always came up to her and offered her food whenever he saw her. He had long, light brown hair tied in a ponytail, and he wore big, circular glasses that he would always adjust on the bridge of his nose with a swift hand movement. He was also the one who gave her a stuffed animal, as well as a book that he would read aloud to her to teach her how to speak.
On a fateful day, misfortune struck.
The merchant accidentally held her hand because he wanted to show her something he had brought from the capital. His body froze before he could even take another step, and he dropped to his knees. His glasses fell and shattered into pieces — just like how Lorelei's life shattered at that exact moment. Everyone saw the man's lifeless body, with the child desperately trying to wake him up. But he was gone. Dead.
After that incident, she was treated even more harshly than ever before. The stuffed animal that the merchant had given her was torn into pieces right in front of her eyes. She was then kicked onto the floor and beaten to a pulp until she could barely move. She stayed on that ground for the rest of the night — until the first snowflake of winter slowly fell onto her cheek.
She hated winter. For her, it was the worst moment of the year — the moment when she was most vulnerable to death.
The next morning, she saw other children playing with each other. From the little she had learned, she softly muttered:
"Mighy Igh joyng you?"
She barely knew how to speak, nor did she understand the meaning of the words she was uttering. All that guided her were instincts.
The children — as well as the adults — treated Lorelei as her nickname implied: a monster. She was neglected and even hurt, but she did not understand the concept of being hated. She didn't know what she had done wrong every time the other kids would throw rocks at her and shove her head into the garbage taken outside the dwellings.
She was always covered in bruises. During winter, she would sneak into houses just to feel the warmth of a fire. Every time she tried getting close to anyone, their parents would come rushing, throwing the child aside and beating Lorelei half to death. Stomping her into the ground. Treating her as the trash they deemed her to be.
All alone, she played make-believe with toys she would shape out of mud after the rain. And even then, others would still chase her down like a wild animal. She did not understand the concept of death. Whenever someone's lifeless body was presented to her, she would still hold their hand — as if she were trying to bring them back to a life they had failed to keep within their grasp.
One day, the town surrounded her, screaming and hurling insults.
"Go away! Go away! You vile demon! Go away! Go away!"
Lorelei could not understand what they were saying. All she understood was that they were pointing her toward the forest. So she ran. Far. Very far.
The forest was damp and dark. She was only a child, yet she was not fazed by it. Lorelei was used to being alone. She was used to being scared.
The trees seemed like giants towering above her head as she walked into the unknown. She was attacked multiple times by wild beasts. One even succeeded in biting off her arm. After a tenacious struggle, she managed to grab hold of a pointed stick and stabbed the beast through the head with it.
With the little strength she had left, she sat down next to a tree.
Blood gushed out of her dismembered arm. She didn't know what to do. All she felt was the pain — one of the first concepts she had understood from birth. Pain. She was familiar with it.
She used her other hand to try to stop the bleeding, but before she could even do so, a voice screamed:
"Stop! Don't touch it!"
She looked toward the voice's origin. She saw a figure approaching her. When the figure got within range, she grabbed the stick and pointed it forward. But her vision blurred, and eventually, she fell to the ground.