“Revenge,” He started, pointing a drunken finger at his daughter, “isn’t a force to be reckoned with. If nature wanted someone to be dead, they’d be dead.” Annabelle had no good memories of her family. Her sisters were terrible to her, along with her horrid mother. Her father was rarely home, spending his nights drunk at the bar down the street. Sometimes he would come home before she went to bed and she would sit there, watching him slur out nonsense and stumble around the room. She never took anything he said seriously, but she’s never forgotten what he’d said about revenge. Of course, she ignored his warnings, now, not thinking a thing about them.

“Annabelle Wellington, fancy seeing you here.” Annabelle stared at the face of the man who had ruined her life, locking her away in that horrid place. He was the reason she had to endure years of pain, filth, and the company of pigs as “friends”. And, even against her father’s wishes, she wanted revenge. Little did she know, revenge would be the fall of her.

“I’m not a killer, William!”

“But it’s in your nature, Belle; you have to in order to survive.”

And we all know, there's no messing with nature once it's decided your fate.