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I listen to your words, a sour taste on my tongue at your accusations. My eyes run across you, picking up on the marks decorating your body, a frown turning my lips downward. It may not have been me that marked your body like that, but a twinge of guilt still hit the bottom of my stomach with a sinking feeling. You're more damaged than I had originally noticed and unconsciously I step back from you. "I never claimed I was innocent," I tell you, my voice low, unsure of how to continue. I wasn't expecting this, I had no idea. You've caught me off guard and despite my previous words I find myself aching to turn and leave from here. Escape you. "I follow orders and that's all." I'd tell you that I'd never killed before, but I'm not quite sure you'd believe me at this. My head cocks to the side at your last statement, and I can't stop the words before they fall from lips. "So why let us live?" My eyebrows furrowed in my own frustration, my own lack of knowledge. "Why let us live if you hate us so much? I'm right here. Why not kill me as soon as you saw me?"