My stigmata itch with sensation. It is a constant reminder of my higher purpose, of my singular position in this higher purpose. I was a child, innocent to the evils of the world. Then, one night, I woke in such pain, a scream on my lips.
Blood dripped from my palms. When I saw it I was terrified.
It marked me. It meant something.I cannot shirk this mission anymore than I can shirk my own hands.