name: Michael
age: 15
occupation: youngest mercenary alive
personality: he doesn't trusting anybody because of his past, and hes usually really cold but truthful, but if you somehow manage to get past all of that, he is a really nice guy, who will give his life for a stranger, and when anybody asks him why he responds "well i don't want to live all that much anyways, so why not die helping somebody?"
history:Michael was born in a hospital in Georgia at 12 o' clock at night, he was a "mistake." When Michael was just five, his parents, not wanting anything to do with their "mistake" sent him off to military school. Of course he would come home for the holidays, but during that time his parents would always argue, and he would cry alone in his room, usually his mom came to cheer him up ant tell him everything would be alright, then on January 15, when he was to turn 14, his parents had a huge argument, and like always he went into his room to be alone and try to shut out their yelling, when he heard a gunshot... followed by a fight, followed by another gunshot. Afterwards his door opened, and his mom came in, her white shirt turned red, and like always she gave him a hug and told him everything was going to be alright, then the clock struck 12, and the kitchen knife his mom had been hiding came down as she said "happy birthday...Michael!" He felt the pain of the knife as it went down his back, and his first reaction was to run, he ran to his parents room as the blood ran down his left arm, and then he stopped cold at what he saw. he saw his father, with a gun, on the floor shot in the head, the blood already pooling around him. he heard his mom coming so he picked it up and ran outside, not wanting to kill his own mother. it was snowing outside, and oh how he loved snow, but he coulden't stay and play, for his mother was almost upon him, the bloody knife in her hand, so he ran faster, and turned a corner... but was trapped by a barbed fence, and as he turned around to get away, he saw his mother, charging at him, knife in hand, so he shot... and he lowered it as his mother fell. a single tear ran down his left cheek, he was in shock after all, and as he stood there, he heard his mothers last, dieing words... "it's all your fault." and he cracked. He was instituted, at an asylum for crazy people, he was quickly let go, and from that day forward, he was never the same, he trained in combat everyday, and never trusted anyone, and being such a fighter, he was quickly hired by a mercenary company, it seems killing had become a business now. He became, the youngest mercenary alive.
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