《Samael》 Prologue 0: They finally found me… ¡°There was another angel in the seventh heaven, different in appearance from all the others, and of frightful mien. His height was so great, it would have taken five hundred years to cover a distance equal to it, and from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet he was studded with glaring eyes, at the sight of which the beholder fell prostrate in awe. "This one," said Metatron, addressing Moses, "is Samael, who takes the soul away from man." "Whither goes he now?" asked Moses, and Metatron replied, "To fetch the soul of job the pious." Thereupon Moses prayed to God in these words, "O may it be Thy will, my God and the God of my fathers, not to let me fall into the hands of this angel." -Zohar Prologue 1: They finally found me.... --2158 January 25th-- The 707 finally landed, at the Tehran-Mehrban International airport. It was well after midnight and the A bitter chill air hung in the atmosphere, making our breath quite visible in the bright-lit cargo hold. The team were exasperated, the dark circles clearly visible under their eyes. Their face were pale and coupled with the circles made them somewhat zombie-like in appearance. They were flying for the past 36 hours well over the cautious limits of civil aviation abused all the more by the nature of their seating. Holed in the cargo section of a passenger flight. They plane landed with a heavy thump on the landing strip and a communal sigh reverberated across the team. They showed an expression of relief as they stood up and dusted themselves off. The nature of their mission didn''t allow for a military plane to be seen landing in the Iranian lands. I looked up at my fellow passengers and shared their collective tiredness. I gestured them to walk through to the opening door, turning the large handle and slowly stepping outside. We removed our oxygen masks, to be greeted by the thick fetid smell of the cargo, forcing us cover our mouths, and it was everything they could do to not vomit as we stepped out. The aircraft was well and truly a relic of the past out-dated and only used by those who could not afford to take a more safe and technologically superior aeroplanes brought forth in the dawn of the 2. This all the more increased the anonymity of the team as no one would suspect that the most skilled and powerful special-ops team of the US navy seals had smuggled themselves into foreign lands in the cargo hold of a Boeing 707 passenger plane. We the 84th battalion of the US Navy Seals, Nemesis, the elite of the military were sent here on an assignment, a mission to eradicate the last remaining roots of the Aun-Woer Syndicate. Aun-Woer Syndicate the most ruthless, malicious criminal organization in history, dabbling in everything from human trafficking, prostitution, to drug smuggling. Led by a man dubbed with the title ¡°The 6th¡±. We were the last component of a large-scale operation, whose purpose thoroughly lied in the decimation of the Aun-Woer Syndicate. We were the executors of the mission. ¡°A long day, my friends,¡± I said by way of apology. It was my idea to smuggle ourselves like this, contrary to films it is not easy to travel by means of an Aeroplane cargo base. ¡°I swear to god Captain, we are never listening to you again,¡± smirked Lt. Rodriguez. Rolling her eyes at me. ¡°God willing, a long sleep to follow it,¡± Our sniper Lt. Kyle gestured waving his arm over his yawning mouth. Followed by a mutual nod from the six of us. Soon our escort arrived in the form of a large Medical Supply truck, and we were escorted to the mission head quarters. ¡°Erfan hospital¡± A large burly man walked out of the hospital and quickly escorted us to the top floor to brief us on the mission. The man had short-cropped hair and bulging muscles that were clearly stretching the suit he was wearing to its utmost limits. I recognised him as the Chief military officer of the Iranian army, Salim Aziz. Under pitch-black darkness we went into the hospital to be briefed. The hospital was just a cover for the real operation of eradicating the Aur-Woen, It provided them with anonymity and the security was airtight so even if an Aur- Woen spy were to enter they would not suspect a thing. The Iranian army ran this facility. The doctors were military physicians, and the orderlies all men with battlefield experience. Security was tight, as one would expect. My team and the director had cleared security on the first floor, however, and the guard at the post touched the buttons to open the doors into the air lock. These opened with a hiss of hydraulics to reveal a second set, and they could see that smoke from one of my team member¡¯s cigar was sucked into the secure area. The soldier gave a mean glance at Lt. Hoffman, obviously disapproving of his smoking. Hoffman our heavy gunner, with a smirk took out a new Cuban cigar this time and started lighting it. Hoffman wasn''t one for rules; his baldhead and large tattoos was more than enough to scare an ordinary soldier. ¡°I would advice against that Mr. Hoffman.¡± The chief¡¯s accented voice resounded. ¡°This facility needs to be completely clean for a small mishap would result in another Pupa incident,¡± Chief Salim said. His voice full of pressure and managed to convey the severity of the situation. The air system was working properly. The very lives of everyone here depended on the exact performance of every subsystem here. The inner doors would not open unless the outer ones were locked tight. The director activated them, and we proceeded. After going through more than 20 different levels with tighter security following each, we finally arrived at the top floor where the Chief¡¯s office was located. It was considerably spacious, with a big symbol of the ¡®Unity Creed¡¯ on its back wall. The Unity Creed was formed on the aftermath of the Pupa virus, and was created to not let another incident like that occur again. Soon after the outbreak of the deadly virus 100 year ago almost all the wars across the world had stopped. People found it hard to care about such things when the virus struck. I found it ironic that a large-scale apocalyptic genocide was the only thing that finally bought the world together. That was the effect of the Pupa virus. ¡°I am glad you have arrived Captain, the situation with the Aur-Woen has gotten worse. Our last black op spy has gotten us the sample of new virus they are developing. It is all that remains of his legacy now; he was tortured and killed soon after delivering this to us.¡± The chief exclaimed. His hands trembling with anger at the mention of the death. ¡°After all the shit we went through 100 years ago, I would think humanity needs a break, but these assholes don''t know when to stop!¡± he scoffed, his eyes full of rage. He swiftly opened a large silver briefcase, containing nothing but a small glass vial of the virus. The fluid surprisingly horrid in colour. Deep scarlet with a hint of brown. ¡°We have monitored the process with small samples under an electron microscope. The human kidneys exposed to the infected blood were composed of discrete and highly specialized cells, and for whatever reason, this virus loves those cells. Consumes it to no end.¡± Chief gestured and a large holographic display blazed on the top of his desk. A 3D model of the virus entering a human bloodstream was shown. With the black infection penetrating deep within the small cells. It had been both fascinating and horrifying to watch. The micron-sized virus strands touched the cells, penetrated them and started to replicate in the warm, rich biosphere. It was like something from a science-fiction movie, but quite real. This virus, like all the others, was only equivocally alive. It reminded me of the videos depicting the horror of the Pupa virus of 100 years ago. The virus ravaged the entire world sending it into utter chaos, causing more than 1/3 of the population to fall. The situation was all the more made worse by the religious extremists branding the said virus as the act of god who had sent his wrath upon us. They were the once who dubbed the virus, ¡°Pupa¡±. A sick metaphor that the virus was going to rid the world of evil and bring forth a new age. Like a butterfly emerging from the Pupa. Born anew. The multiplication process was a microcosm of the disease process in a human community. It started slowly, then accelerated geometrically--the faster it went, the deadlier it became: 2-4-16-856-95,536--until all of the people in a community were eaten up and only virus strands remained, then the virus went dormant and awaited its next opportunity. People applied all manner of false images to disease. Calling it the descent of one of the horseman of the apocalypse, Plague. It would lie in wait for its chance; it would kill without mercy; it would seek out victims. All of that was anthropomorphic rubbish. It didn''t think. It didn''t do anything overly malevolent. All Pupa did was to eat and reproduce and go back to its dormant state. But as a computer is only a collection of electrical switches, which can only distinguish between the numerals 1 and 0; the pupa could only distinguish between life and death. When it was in threat f death, it ate. Nothing more, nothing les. But it did so more rapidly and efficiently than anything humanity had ever faced. Pupa was supremely well adapted and could reproduce so rapidly that the human body''s immune system, ordinarily a ruthlessly effective defence mechanism, was simply overwhelmed, as though by an army of carnivorous ants. In that lay Pupa¡¯s historic ruthlessness. It was too efficient. It killed too fast. Its survival mechanism within the human host also tended to kill the host before it could pass the disease along sometimes. It was also super- adapted to every specific ecosystem. For this reason, and since it could not survive in a human host without killing that host in ten days or less, it had also evolved slowly--without taking the next evolutionary step of becoming airborne, and it rapidly destroyed humanity. It had not become airborne, that was the sole reason humanity still remained. 50 years after the outbreak 6 young scientists cracked its genetic code to the molecular level and developed a cure. The general populous was not aware that the cure was developed by a group of young researchers and was lead to believe the government developed it instead. Only a select few knew this information. ¡°This is the new Pupa variant that Aur-Woen is developing, although a prototype, it contains more power and deadliness than the first. This one when exposed to the atmosphere immediately becomes gaseous.¡± The chief exclaimed! Everyone was dead silent. A Pupa variant that could be spread by aerosol would be catastrophically deadly. It was the worst-case nightmare scenario. This was the new strain, as repeated microscopy had established, and that strain was suspected to be capable of aerosol transmission. A new strain already implied it was more deadly but being able to become airborne was basically an Armageddon level threat. Hearing this my team visibly scared backed away from the vial. Their brows trickling with sweat. ¡°Don''t worry I wouldn''t be holding it out if I was not 100% sure it wouldn''t escape.¡± Chief Aziz sighed. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°Chief how do we stop this¡­¡± I said, my heart beating extremely loudly. All the fatigue of the previous flight disappearing. We are again, extremely close to yet another extinction level threat. My mind flashed back to the images my father showed me as a child. Telling me how I have the responsibility to protect the world from such an event from ever transpiring again. He said it was our family¡¯s responsibility to protect the world from such threats. He would explain to me the terror, the absolutely horrifying fear of not knowing if you will ever open your eyes if you once close them. ¡°Captain this is a SSS level classified United Creed secret, it cannot get out to the public. If anyone got wind of the fact that we have a developed vial of an advanced level Pupa virus. We will be in big trouble.¡± ¡°Luckily we have established that with our repeated attacks ¡®6th¡¯ is now cornered in Iran,¡± Chief Salim exclaimed. ¡°Are we sure it has not already mass produced?¡± Lt. Rodriguez asked. ¡°Yes our Intel is extremely sure that this is the only prototype of the virus. We are sure that due to the nature of preparation that is needed to make the virus, not another has been made.¡± Salim went on. ¡°Nemesis, your mission is to completely annihilate everything in the facility and blow up the place using the ¡°MTX 09¡± Explosives.¡± We looked at each other. Nodding our heads. ¡°MTX 09¡± was an explosive developed by the united creed when they were sure that they could not cure the virus. They would send these bombs to small communities across the globe with high concentration of the Pupa virus 70 years ago. They would mask these explosion attacks as terrorism when in fact it was the United Creed¡¯s method of containing the virus, which at that point seemed impossible to cure. Although inhumane, it was a necessary evil. This yet was another secret the public was not aware of. ¡­ Later that night¡­ I sat on the side of my bed, clutching a small picture depicting a happy family, with a beautiful wife, a handsome husband and two small girls. Each had the most beautiful smile plastered on their face. I choked back tears as I reflected on how much I was missing right at this moment. My children¡¯s small but significant steps in life. From walking for the first time, to their first words. I was missing all of that. They were 14 and 12 this year, and the fact that I hadn¡¯t seen them in months was eating me away. I was the captain of the most dangerous team in all of the American military. That came with strings. It meant that I would be part of the most deadly missions in the world. Every night before a mission I would look at this picture, steeling my resolve to know that I needed to comeback to my family. I vowed to myself that this was my last mission. I soon went to sleep knowing full well that tomorrow was not going to be easy. ¡­ I started to get dressed. Nothing I did from the moment I started putting on my pants was random. Every step was carefully planned. I was thorough with everything, I rechecked, and even double-checked. This method was a way of focusing my brain for the mission. These were the same steps I did before every mission. I slid my pants on and checked the contents of each of the pockets, in the military cargos pants. In one cargo pocket, I had my assault gloves and leather mitts for fast roping. The other cargo pocket had an assortment of extra batteries, an energy gel that was made for military requirements in the advent of the 22nd century. It could provide enough energy to survive for almost a month, just on one bar. My right ankle pocket had an extra tourniquet and my left one had rubber gloves and my SSE kit. In a pocket on my left shoulder, I felt the $200 cash I¡¯d use if we got compromised and I needed to buy a ride or bribe someone. Evasion takes money, and few things work better than American cash. I tucked my shirt in and picked up my kit and inspected it again. The Kevlar plates covered my vital organs in the front and back. I had two radios mounted on either side of the front plate. Between the radios, I carried three magazines for my H&K 4000 assault rifle, with a silencer and high penetration ammo cache, and one molecular fragmentation hand grenade. I also had several chemical lights rigged to the front of my vest, including the infrared version that can only be seen using night vision. We¡¯d crack the plastic lights and throw them in front of rooms and areas that we had cleared. The lights were invisible to the naked eye, but my teammates could see them through their night vision and know what areas were secure. ¡­ The explosion sent a shock wave that blew a hole in the gate. Lt. Rodriguez was the first through, kicking and pulling the scorched metal wider so we could fit. Guys quickly started to pile through and peel off toward their planned objectives. We entered thinking to find a dingy compound with a chemicals being fiddled with under extremely horrid conditions. But what we encountered was a high-tech underground research facility. The entirety was lit up with bright white lights and there were numerous people of all ethnicities, wearing white lab coats. My mind shifted looking at each of them. Their hands were slowly reaching for the guns in their holster. With out warning we pressed the triggers and riddled and each and every being in the facility with holes. The scene was a rain of blood. We showed no mercy killing anything that dare cross our path. We knew exactly how cruel these people could be. The only thing we had against them was the surprise attack and by the time they reacted it was all too late. ¡°Captain this is much smaller than we expected. We have a few too many explosives...¡± Lt Kyle snickered. His family had died in a terrorist attack by the Aur-Woen so he had no qualms at all about killing all these people. In fact I think he was somewhat enjoying it. ¡°Install them anyway we need everything here decimated.¡± I replied. The mission was moving quickly now. It had probably been about five minutes since we hit the ground, and now the Iranian army were swarming the compound. At least two charges had blown and, coupled with the helicopters, we knew they had heard us coming. Without a doubt, we figured the occupants of the compound would now be prepared to defend themselves. I took the MTX 09 and set the charges on the doorknob to the adjacent room. I always knelt while I placed breaching charges because I had been shot at through the door in Iraq many times. Fighters liked to spray the middle of the door, blindly firing where they thought a man would be standing. The third member of my team entered the compound. He was one of the last guys out of the helicopter and had just gotten to us. His job was to clear a staircase that led to the roof of the headquarters. As he started toward the stairs, which were directly in line with the door, AK-90 rounds tore through the glass above the door, narrowly missing him. I too rolled away as bullets started to spray through the door I was attaching the explosive to. I could feel pieces of glass flying towards me and through the force itself small chunks of it embedded in my Kevlar Kraton bulletproof vest. It was easy to tell that it was not friendly fire as we were using suppressed rounds. I grimaced, as I knew that our element of surprise was gone. The door detonated and a large amount of smoke was blocking my view. I soon could see faint outlines of a boy from my night vision goggles and slowly backed away. I could hear a cry of a small girl as well. That dint means we were safe if this was a hoax and someone was coming out with a suicide vest on, we were dead. I indicated a sign with my hand telling my team to back away. This was the ¡°6th¡¯s¡± compound. These were his people so we knew they were willing to die for him. One thing we knew from our Intel was that the syndicate treated each other extremely well and revered the ¡°6th¡± as though he were a god. Through the sweat running down my face and the grit in my eyes from the rotor wash, I could just make out the figure of a boy in the green glow of my night vision goggles. He had something swaddled in his arms and my finger slowly started applying pressure to my trigger. I could see our lasers dancing around his head. It would only take a split second to end his life if he was holding a bomb. ¡°He isn¡¯t here... don''t shoot.¡± A boy¡¯s voice called out. The voice low and quaint but everyone of us could distinctly hear it. A small girl was tightly holding onto his leg, sobbing uncontrollably. As I kept walking towards him I saw that the bundle had no explosive, but I could see thick red blood oozing out of the cloth swaddling the item. The boy was someone we had never seen before. Through the intelligence, we had assembled from many spies; we knew every one of the personnel that worked here. We even acquired a thorough layout of the whole enterprise. That''s why we were so confident to shoot everyone, as we were well aware of how atrocious these people were. There was no knowledge of who this boy was. He held the swaddled item in his left hand while holding an AK-90 in the other. While a small girl was holding onto his leg. He had the gun pointed at us, but I could tell he wasn''t willing to shoot. The boy was not wearing a shirt and only had a tattered black pants on him. His body was riddled with scars. His chest had deep wounds in the shapes of lashes while all around his body there were injuries resembling everything from knife wounds to guns. My whole team gasped when they saw they state at which the boy was in. The kid no older than 17 to have such scars that would send, even the most hardened of my group a tingle down their spine. His head of thick brown hair was swaying over his eyes and I could hear frantic breathing. He was not able to stand up straight and I soon noticed that his body had many knife wounds that were leaking fresh crimson blood. The boy then gently stroked the top of the girl¡¯s head and she eventually calmed down. ¡°Who are you¡­¡± I asked. The boy gave no reply before looking up at our team and scanning the area with his eyes. He seemed to not be fazed at the state of his injuries, and was frantically searching for something or someone in our team. ¡°I am looking for captain Demidov!!¡± he yelled. How did he know my name? ......................................................................................................................................................... Hey guys been a while aye... I have a solid reason for the month long hiatus but it is agin family matters so id rather not bore u with it. I am going to be taking a break from writing xianxia for a lil bit and try a new genre. I recently read Riddick and some novels by Yintian and decided to change my story a lil bit for Avalon. So might need time to incorporate that. Hope you guys like the new fic. PLEASE msg me if anyone has an idea of how i should do stats and tables for the fic will be greatly appreciated. P.s. Gonna do Harem this time :D Prologue 0.5: My beautiful childhood… Prologue 0.5- My beautiful childhood¡­ I was sitting in a small room with cream coloured walls. A bright fluorescent light was lit, making every ounce of my interviewer¡¯s face visible. The interviewer was dressed in scrubs, and was carefully making eye contact with me. The corner of his eyes twitched as I stared back at him. My indifferent expression unwavering. My mind was still racing through the events, which transpired today. The blood, the injections, and bone shrieking the screams of pain. They were a series of montages and flashes. Uncontrollable tears formed in the corner of my eyes as I slowly regained my sense. The Interviewer was somewhat startled at my sudden crying, and his expression turned soft. ¡°Where is my sister?¡± I asked ¡°She is safe. I think someone is also interviewing her. Trust me we will keep her safe.¡± He smiled. I didn''t know if it was genuine or a fa?ade to make me feel more comfortable. I never understood people very well anyway. ¡°How did you end up in that place? Why were you carrying the head of Dr.Sasha Vichekov? How did you know about Captain Demidov?¡± He asked. I stared blankly at him. My eyes still dreary. ¡°I grew up there¡­¡± I started. ¡­ * FLASHBACK * Cold, shivering air filled the extremely dark room. Blue flashes of light were sporadically appearing and disappearing. Followed by teeth clenching screams. From the flashes one could see that electricity was arching through the inside of a small cage. One could see small body repeatedly beating against the edge of the small cage quivering and shuddering in pain. ¡°AAAHHHHH¡± the small voice cried. The small boy no bigger than 2 years old was naked in a small cage. His body had reminiscence of charred tissue and his earlobes were visibly bleeding. ¡°Pleashe¡­Pleash¡­mwake it stwop¡­¡± the boy whimpered. Tears were uncontrollably pouring from his eyes. This scene would have made anyone feel heart-wrenching sympathy for the boy. The inhumane brutal torture of a 2 year old was not something anyone could watch. His muscles were aching, and periodically the body would convulse from the reminiscent electricity coursing through his body. The electrodes were attached to the sides of his forehead and were also sending in juts of electricity directly to his body. The electric shocks soon subsided and the boy was lying on the floor of the cage breathing in heavily from the terrifying amount of agony. The lights of the room abruptly turned on, revealing a tall man in a lab coat whose face showed no signs of aging. The young man had unruly black hair, and an almost twisted expression in his eyes. Anyone else would be extremely scared of the expression this man had, but to the boy, he was his sole paternal figure. To the boy this man, his torturer, was his sole family. 6th they called him. The man crouched down and slowly opened the cage. His face showing an expression of sympathy, that anyone could tell was completely forged. The boy slowly crawled out, his face drenched in tears. His body clenched with fear as he saw the expression of man who was leading him out of the cage. The boy recognised that expression. It was the expression that meant something bad was going to happen. The man gave a small chuckle, seeing the boy¡¯s frightened appearance. ¡°Its okay son, I just need you to do a small thing.¡± He whispered. ¡°Fathwer pwease, I cwant twake thwis anymowe¡± the boy cried leaning into his father¡¯s chest. ¡°All you need to do is kill this kitten,¡± the man said handing the small weak animal to the boy. The animal whimpered cutely and scratched it ears as it was passed on from hi hands. ¡°I cwant..I dwont want to,¡± the boy cried. His tears pouring down. The boy looked at the small creature and thought of wringing it neck sent shudders down his spine. He was only 2 years old, but the pain he had been subjected to was more than anything a normal person would feel in their entire lifetime. ¡°Its easy, Sam, just like how I taught you. Hold its neck and twist it to one side.¡± 6th said. His face showed no sense of sympathy or discomfort in the act of killing this small defenceless animal. Rather he looked as though he might enjoyed it. ¡°I dwont want to¡­¡± the boy replied. He was in tears and in enormous pain, but his innocent heart still refused to be perturbed by his father¡¯s insistence. ¡°Well I am quite disappointed in you son¡­¡± 6th spoke, shaking his head and showing a look of displeasure. ¡°Sowwy fwather..i jwust cwant..¡±The boy looked down. ¡°Well I am sorry too, my son,¡± 6th replied. His hand becoming a blur and pushing the small naked boy violently back into the cage. Turning of all the lights and continuing the torturous session. The boy¡¯s entire body again clenched. The muscles tightened to an enormous degree and all his sensory nerves were fervently attacked, pain coursed trough to every part of his body. His mind went blank and his cries echoed through whole darkness. The boy was subjected this sort of pain, but around the 5th time, he finally gave in. ¡°CRACK¡± The sound echoed through the entire hall. The boy cried. His hands were covered with blood and were trembling with fear. The small animal¡¯s neck was wrung in the hands of this 2-year-old boy. He quickly ran to the corner and violently vomited, and howled in tears. His mind was in complete shock from the guilt and pain. ¡°There¡­ There¡­ my boy¡­ You did good,¡± 6th said, rubbing his hands on the top of the small boy¡¯s head. 6th then went on to tightly hug the boy close, a if showing paternal love. ¡­ The boy was confined in the dark cell for years. All of his childhood he had no interaction with others. His only reason for living was to be able to receive praise from his father. His every action, was so he wouldn''t fall short of his fathers expectations of him. He had grown up with a psyche of always trying to please his father. His father taught him every deadly martial art known to man, forging him, and making him into a weapon. He taught him to be ruthless and desensitized him to violence. His personality was slowly altered to always seek victory no matter the cost. The boy was also taught in everything from mathematics, language, science, arts, and was becoming not only skilled but also extremely intelligent. Although he had all the knowledge required the lack of communication with outide world had rendered him almost mute. The boy barely talked, and only opened his mouth when his father addressed him. 8 years later. The boy¡¯s heart was beating erratically. In the utter darkness he could see nothing. His mind was racing uncontrollably trying to determine where the Lion was. He could hear it¡¯s growling but the hollow structure made it impossible for him to determine its position. The growl sent an echo throughout the small room causing a tingle to go up the boy¡¯s spine. The lion¡¯s every step sent an echoing reverberation throughout the small chamber. The boy in the centre was erratically turning trying to determine its position in utter darkness. He tightly grasped the shaft of his crude dagger. The effects of prolonged usage clearly visible on its jagged edge. His brow was dripping cold sweat, as he could here no movement anymore. Utter silence¡­ ¡°RAWRRRRRR¡± suddenly a roar was heard and through the darkness a towering lion¡¯s body could be seen lunging at the boy. The boy¡¯s body suddenly became a blur, and with astonishing speed for a ten year old, he dodged the monster at hairs breadth. While in motion he plunged the dagger at the side of the lion¡¯s abdomen with ferocious strength, and expertly used the lion¡¯s own motion to make a large deep laceration on the side of the lion¡¯s body. This hot blood oozed out of the side of the lion, and one of its intestines dangled out of it body. ¡°RAWWRRRR¡± the lion boomed from the pain. The boy was huffing and wincing in pain, as even though he was an expert in martial arts his small body could not withstand the shock that the lions body gave with its enormous weight. His left wrist had cracked in the process and a deep throbbing pain echoed in his ears. The boy was not deterred by this painful sensation, but instead his focus amplified. The boy held the dagger in his right hand and faced the lion with his body in a horizontal position. Making his surface area the smallest possible. The lion again lunged but this time did not jump in the air and instead came charging in as though it were a bull. Noticing the subtle differences in wind patterns¡¯ the boy jumped into the air again dodging the lions charge and while on top of the lion plunged the dagger deep into the body of the lion. ¡°RAWRRRRR¡± the lion cried again and this time crashing onto to the floor. The boy wasted no time and quickly retook the dagger before plunging it directly into its throat. The blood gushed out and completely drenched the face of the small boy. Suddenly the lights turned back on and the boy stood there in a completely white room littered with blood and other animal tissue. The small boy¡¯s body was clearly visible now, revealing numerous scars across his small and lithe frame. His hair was unruly and he had no clothes on. Anybody who saw him would surely think he was a malnourished poor boy. ¡°Well done my son!!!¡± a voice boomed. The figure of the 6th was seen slowly walked in. His facial features hadn¡¯t changed at all in the last 8 years. He still retained his handsome and twisted outlook. The boy gave a deep bow. ¡°Thanks father. What is my next assignment?¡± the boy asked, he no longer had any expression on his face. The crying scared little boy was no longer visible, replaced with a fierce and daunting child. ¡°No son, with this you have finished your training with me. Its time you learnt why you are here,¡± the 6th replied. The boy was slowly led towards the door that had been locked since the earliest moments of his childhood. He could see faint bloodstains and dents on the thick metal door. Remembering the numerous times the boy had tried to break the door wanting his freedom. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. His eyes glittered at the thought of finally seeing the world. He slowly followed his father and found himself in what seemed to a high-tech lab. It was something out of sci-fi movie with various large glass cylinders housing chimeric animals and even humans incubating. The boy tensed with caution when one of the specimen¡¯s eyes suddenly fluttered open. The whole place reeked of various chemicals, and had a faint smell of placentae wafted through the air. The boy was not affected by the horrid conditions but instead remained calm and collected. In the dark room he was forced to kill various beasts continuously and was used to the horrid smell of rotting flesh. This amount of pungent odour was nothing to him. The boy tensed with caution when one of the specimen¡¯s eyes suddenly fluttered open. ¡°What is this place father?¡± he questioned. Slowly fallowing behind his father. ¡°Hmmm¡­ lets just say it¡¯s your fathers happy place,¡± the 6th replied, snickering at his own joke. ¡°Well here we are,¡± 6th said, pointing at a large door located at the end of the room. The door was emblazoned with the insignia of the Aur- Woer syndicate. A Celtic tree of life. It represented rebirth, just as a tree will shed its leaves in the fall, hibernate in the winter, and be reborn with new leaves in the spring. The door was pushed open and the father and son walked in. The room was rather large but seemed to be a office of some kind. The room was devoid of anything except a small bed and a desk and chair. There was only one picture that hung at the end of the room. It was a picture of 6 young people, each wearing lab coats, looking to be in their 20¡¯s, with smiling faces on. They seemed to extremely close friends from the way in which they composed themselves. The boy noticed that in the middle was a younger version of his father and looked utterly surprised. He had never seen his father smile in such manner. His father looked almost human in that picture. The boy was made to sit across the large wooden mahogany desk, before the father pulled a file open. ¡°Son, from now on, you will travel around the world!¡± the 6th exclaimed. ¡°Really father...are you serious!!¡± the boy exclaimed. He was beyond ecstatic. ¡°Yes my son, you will, I will give you an assignment and you will go around the world to do it. How does that sound?¡± the 6th said. ¡°Thanks father!!! I am so happy!!¡± the boy cried. He had been in the small dark room his entire life. But with learning and reading he had become rather fond of the outside world. Being able to see and experience beautiful things thoroughly exhilarated him. ¡°Your first assignment is to kill this man..¡± the father explained pointing at a bald hipanic looking man¡¯s picture from the file. ¡°Wha..¡± the boy started. Staring at his father in disbelief. All his romanticized illusions of his travelling disappearing. ¡°Son you need not worry. Killing a person is nothing different from killing animals. Put what I have taught you to good use. Kill this man¡­¡± ¡°OK father¡± the boy replied resolutely steeling his nerves. He was no longer sensitive to death. ¡°Father what¡¯s my name¡­¡± the boy asked meekly. All this time, this is what he wondered. He had never been called by his name. ¡°You are Samael ¡°sam¡± Collins, son of the 6th,¡± he replied. ¡­ 2 Years later¡­ For the last two years Sam had killed more than 100 people. All high level officials, who he later found out, were committing atrocious crimes. For Sam it didn''t matter if they were malicious or good. He was told to kill, and he killed. The 6th wasn''t afraid that Sam would escape, as he understood a child psyche extremely well. He knew that his son would never betray him. This was the boy¡¯s home, and he would always return. Sam was now on his newest ¡°assignment¡± holed up in Moscow, in the chilly winds. His assignment yet again was to assassinate a high-level crime boss. He posed as an orphan and would assassinate the boss when he came to donate for the orphanage. The man committed dreadful crime in the night, and then the next morning out of guilty conscience would donate and volunteer at the orphanage. Sam was stealthily looking outside from his room upstairs when he suddenly realised something was amiss. The electricity suddenly went off, and the orphanage became eerily quiet. Usually power outages were normal due to the cold weather, but not hearing a single sound from the other resident children made him realise something was gravely wrong. ¡°The boy¡¯s not in bed,¡± a man shouted angrily. He could hear loud footsteps a meter away, and terrifyingly realised he had been caught. He herad loud banging noises as the men tried to break the door down. When nothing worked, they suddenly quieted. Sam soon realised what was to happen and immediately ducked. A barrage of bullets penetrated the door and the loud noises sent shivers down Sam¡¯s spine. He threw off his duvet and spun towards the door that he knew would crash open at any second. The only light was a tiny glimmer through the curtains and Sam felt blindly along the sideboard, desperate for some kind of weapon. He stopped when his hand touched the base of Boris¡¯ marble lamp. Sam charged into the light, clattering into his assailant as he swung the heavy lamp and smashed it into the side of the man¡¯s skull. It was too dark to see if the first blow had knocked him cold, but the second left no room for doubt. Sam spotted a holster under the man¡¯s jacket and reached towards it, but found two men plucking him off the ground before he got hold of the gun. Each man tucked a hand under one of Sam¡¯s armpits and made the room shudder as they slammed his back against the wall. The larger man punched him in the stomach. The punch would have crumpled most grown men, but Sam had taken worse in martial arts training and surprised his attacker by kicking him in the balls. As his assailant doubled over and stumbled backwards into the coffee table, Sam reached out for the other man and grabbed his long hair. He quickly looped some hair around his wrist. The man threw a soft punch as Sam snapped his arm backwards. The hair pulled tight and the dude¡¯s neck crunched. He went down so fast that Sam barely managed to let go before going down on top of him. After a panicked breath, Sam ran forward to finish off the man who was trying to untangle himself from the coffee table. There was enough light from the abandoned torch for Sam to see him reach for his gun. Sam grabbed his wrist, twisted the pistol out of his grasp and pulped the man¡¯s face by repeatedly smashing the barrel against the bridge of his nose. Three down, one to go, Sam thought, backing up to the wall as he inspected the automatic pistol in his bloody left hand. He wasn¡¯t familiar with the type, but it looked like it was ready to shoot. ¡°Mikhail?¡± the leader repeated, sounding a touch uneasy now. ¡°Did he get away?¡± Sam crouched down low. A flickering light came through the kitchen doorway, suggesting that the leader was nosing around with a torch. ¡°Have you got the boy or not?¡± he repeated. Still not aware that his companion were already incapacitated. Suddenly the leader shot a barrage of bullets towards Sam¡¯s direction. The bullets were too many and one of them flew into Sam¡¯s legs making him stumble. He threw a plasma grenade down and started running with all him might towards the window ignoring the pain coursing through his leg. He reached the end of the room and jumped through the window with his entire force landing and landed unto the thick layer of snow on the other side. He quickly stumbled away before running for cover. Soon he heard a loud explosion behind him, as the plasma grenade activated decimating any of the remaining people in the orphanage. He was sure the children were already taken somewhere else and was relieved he could get away. He nosed around his body for the communication device his father gave him, and to his dismay found that he had dropped it in the orphanage. He soon discovered that his leg was not only wounded but the bullets were laced with poison. The poison made the wound protrude with green veins, writhing. He propped himself on one knee and in this desolate freezing cold alleyway, he realised he might die. All the events of his life flashed past him. The wound was slowly getting worse, and the dehydration and lack of food only made the pain much, much worse. His vision became hazy and his mind became numb. He was on the edge of hell, when he saw her. Beautiful brown hair cascading down her side, and cerulean blue eyes that pierced his soul. A woman who looked in the prime of her 20¡¯s rescued him, as though an angel from the sky. ¡­ ¡°That''s how I met Sasha Vichenko.¡± I replied¡­ ................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................ 2nd chapter for my new fic. Please tell me how you like it so far. I really need assisstance with this one guys please msg me if you want to help me with tables stats and other stuff for my new fic. http://www.google.com.au/imgres?imgurl=http://www.coupletattoo.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/unbeatable-celtic-tree-of-life-tattoo.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.coupletattoo.com/unbeatable-celtic-tree-of-life-tattoo-inspirational/&h=813&w=862&tbnid=phw0eR9hzvNC9M:&docid=OfEFZwYObBlXgM&ei=i_uoVYz-HMK8mAWeqbPADA&tbm=isch&ved=0CDcQMygGMAZqFQoTCMzvk8Kb4sYCFUIepgodntQMyA - (the Aur- Woer Insignia) Comment rate and review Prologue 0.75: My first love… Prologue 0.75: My first love¡­ *FLASHBACK* Sasha POV: I was walking home from the fertility clinic with a bright smile on my face. I was completely ecstatic. My husband and I had been trying for months and finally I was pregnant. Suddenly I noticed a figure a small boy from the corner of my eye. I looked at the small boy shivering, quivering in the cold weather. He was huddled between two alleyways, and had covered himself in the rubbish discarded by other people to keep warm. The rotten smell from the heavy potato based diet of these Russians was assaulting my nose as I slowly trudged in the snow and walked toward the boy. To my utter surprise the boy was deathly pale. His head was hung low and his lips were parted, and cracked. His chest was slowly heaving, but I could see that he was having trouble breathing. Possibly a broken spine. ¡°AHH!¡± I shrieked when I realised that I was crouching over a puddle of blood red snow. I quickly shuffled about until I saw a gun shot wound on the ankle of the boy. Thick black blood was oozing out of the wound. The boy was desperately putting pressure with the last ounces of his strength trying to stop the rapid flow of blood. Black? Oh my gosh! He was poisoned. What on earth happened to this boy? I brushed the hair covering his forehead and slowly brought my hand over to measure his temperature. Hi body was completely frozen, and some of the tips of his fingers were pale blue. Fortunately the boy had a tourniquet just over his ankle blocking the flow of blood, stopping the spread of the poison. ¡°Please.... Please help me¡­ ¡° He whispered. ¡­ In my small apartment I placed him on the bed. Wiping his forehead and turning up the thermostat to extremely hot temperatures. Through sweat I was hoping to regulate the poison if it had travelled to other parts of the body. I was desperately hoping my husband would come through the door any time as he was a much more experienced doctor than me. As the bullet entered the boy, it caused laceration and crushing wounds. It had punctured tissue and bone, crushing aside anything in its path. When it passed through tissue, it created a cavity that was quite largely making it hard to stop the bleeding. I quickly sterilised the ends of the nerves blocking all the bleeding. This cavity must have closed behind the bullet less than a second after the bullet passed, but the cavitation caused damage to nearby tissue, organs and bones via shock waves. The tip of the bullet contained small amounts of poison. Although definitely not deadly I knew that it was meant to incapacitate enemies so they can be tortured for information later. I slowly saw the boys face return to a healthy colour, after I applied an antibiotic ointment, and bandaged his leg. I saw that other than a broken heel through impact there was not much nerve or severe tissue damage. He was recovering incredibly fast, inhumanly fast... The poison itself was slowly expelled out of his body after several changings of the bandages. I took his shirt off and to my utter surprise I saw multiple scars. Deep horrendous scars. I stifled a scream when I imagined the amount pain and torture this boy must have gone through. This boy must have been terribly tortured. My heart tightened with pain when I saw the boy in such a state. ¡°BOOOOM¡± My door suddenly flung open and a team of armed men walked through the door. There was a man, wearing a black suit was leading the charge. He was scanning around the room until he noticed me taking of the shirt of a small boy. ¡°Umm¡­this isn¡¯t what this looks like,¡± I muttered somewhat embarrassed. ¡°I was actually helping him¡­¡± ¡°I see you have found my son!!¡± The man interrupted. He had a bright smile on his face and to my utter surprise ran up to me giving a tight hug. ¡°Sir, please get off¡­¡± I muttered. ¡°I am sorry I am just glad my sons alive¡­¡± he said quickly shuffling away from me. ¡°I am sure you are.¡± ¡°Thank you for giving him treatment. I will get out of your house now. Sorry for the inconvenience my son caused you. AHAHAHA¡± he chuckled. I was completely shocked. His son was just shot. This is a small inconvenience. I couldn''t believe what I was hearing. ¡°Sir I hardly call a gun shot wound and nearly bleeding in a frozen wasteland a ¡®inconvenience¡¯¡± I raged. ¡°Yes I am sure. I will make sure to tell him not to go to the bad parts of town next time¡­¡± he tittered. Poking the small boy¡¯s forehead childishly. ¡°Sir your ¡®son¡¯ has extremely thick lacerations all over his body. Furthermore he has been shot and is still regulating the poison from his body. I am not sure what¡¯s happening but I would like to call the police to take a look at him before you take him away.¡± I sternly interjected. This man had a maniacal look about him and was somewhat giving me an unsettling feeling. ¡°I know this child hadn¡¯t gained the scars in the last 2 months due to the amount they had healed. These scars must have been brought on when he was quite young.¡± She asserted somewhat still frightened by the numerous gunmen. ¡°It is painfully obvious that the boy had gone through large amounts of child abuse.¡± She said slowly reaching for a phone behind her. ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± the man looked at me. Pursing his lips as if he were somewhat sorry for me. Before I could blink the man suddenly rushed at me. Arriving in hairs breadth in front of me. He was a shadow and didn''t make a single sound when arriving to my side. He placed his palm on the lower part of my navel. ¡°I hate killing pregnant women. You know¡­¡± he sympathetically nodded. Swiftly taking a butterfly knife from his pocket and handling it expertly in between his fingers. He looked at me as if I were really unfortunate. ¡°For saving my son. I will make it quick¡­¡± he whispered. My mind went blank. What just happened? How did he know I was pregnant? Why do I deserve to die? I just got the best news of my life. Why is this happening? ¡°FATHER STOP!!!¡± suddenly a voice came from behind me. ¡­ Sam¡¯s POV: The woman worked tirelessly. She was clearly panicked doing her best to control the poison. I tried to move but my body was in complete shock from staying in the cold bleeding. It barely moved. Her brow was dripping with sweat and she vigorously did her best to save me. I couldn''t help but feel small amount of warmth swelling up in my chest. Even when in the dark room, whenever I was hurt by a bloodthirsty beast. Nobody came. I was forced to learn large amounts of injury and trauma recovery during my training. My father would throw a box of the necessary medical supplies and I would do procedure myself. I remember once I had an extremely deep cut of my back when I was 6 years old from a wolf that I had just killed. I was seriously bleeding. As punishment my father refused to give me the necessary anaesthetic when doing the stitches. He forcefully hooked my skin repeatedly telling me that this should never happen again. Needless to say I made sure to not get hurt in places where I couldn''t see or treat myself. The warmth only got more profound when I saw her see my body wasn''t exactly normal. She stifled a scream as she saw the scars on my body. From the corner of her eyes tears swelled up as she covered her mouth¡­ She cared¡­ After many missions I was somewhat aware that my treatment wasn''t right. I knew that the things my father was doing to me was not normal. But seeing her reaction the pain I was suppressing all these years burst forth. Small tears trickled down the corner of my eye. The feeling was new to me. I was still in immense pain but the thought that she was here was incredibly comforting. All my life I wasn''t someone who particularly needed comfort, or mutual affection. I was always detached. I never got close to or cared for anyone. Even when on missions I never befriended anyone. Who is this woman? Why is she caring for me? I heard a loud bang followed by a hurried entry of numerous people. From the sound of the footsteps alone I easily counted that approximately 20 people had hurried in. They seemed to be equipped with guns. I knew that this was definitely my father. Somewhat surprised as to how he found me. Sasha was fiercely confronting my father of my ¡®treatment¡¯. I again felt the same warmth. Every time she expressed care or concern for me my heart slowly felt indescribable cordiality. What is happening to me¡­ I noticed that the confrontation was taking a turn for the worse. My father would surely kill her. The thought of her dying sent me into panic. I didn''t make sense but I didn''t want her to die. Her survival became my top priority. If anything were to happen to her¡­ My heart felt intense pain just at that thought¡­ ¡°FATHER STOP!!!¡± I yelled. Slowly sitting myself up. Still on the make shift medical bed. ¡°Father you cant kill her¡­¡± I asked. ¡°Why not!?¡± he asked as if leaving her alive was completely ridiculous to him. ¡°She has seen your face, and mine!!¡± ¡°She saved my life father¡­¡± I replied. ¡°All these year I have done what you have asked no questions asked¡­ Just this once I am asking you a favour.¡± ¡°Please father¡­I am begging you!¡± I asked, giving him a deep bow although it was giving me immense pain. ¡°Hmm¡­Alright. Just this once¡­¡± he replied. Turning away. I could hear the disappointment in his voice. My heart trembled at the thought of disappointing him but when I looked at Sasha I couldn''t bear for her blood to be on my hands. I looked at Sasha. She had somewhat confused look on her face; I could see that all these events happening in such quick succession were too much for her. Any normal person wouldn''t be okay after the events that had transpired. She quickly recovered and then gave me a apologetic gaze. I could see that she was in deep inner conflict. I had no idea what it was but I could tell she was hesitant about something. I slowly stood up and limped towards my father. I turned to give one last look when I realised the lady had a firm grasp on my hand. ¡°I cant let you take him!!¡± she exclaimed. I was completely startled. Does this woman not care for her life? What about her unborn child? ¡°Ohoho¡­You still have quite the bit of courage.¡± My father snickered licking his lips. ¡°I cant let you harm this child any longer. I have already dialled 000 they should be hearing our whole conversation right now¡­¡± she muttered. When in the world did she dial the police? I soon noticed the Surface phone in her pocket glowing. The holographic display blinking bright red with the words Emergency sprawled across it. ¡°Hmmm¡­I don''t want to go back on my promise to my son¡­and also cant let you live knowing about us¡­¡± my father muttered out loud not even mildly scared of the oncoming police. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Guys lets just take her with us!!¡± my father chuckled. His smile reaching an unnaturally large size. His insane eyes once again sending a jolt down my spine. ¡°FATHER NO!!¡± ¡­¡­ 9 months later¡­ Sam¡¯s POV: It¡¯s been 9 months since my father forcibly dragged Sasha to Iran. The first few months due to her incessant crying my father refused to feed her and repeatedly exercised violence on her. She begged to make a single call. A single call to let her husband know she was fine. My father refused to grant her that luxury. It was heart wrenching to watch her in that state. My mind was wrecked with a new unfamiliar emotion, guilt. In the beginning she refused to talk to me. Looking at me as if it were my fault. Her emotionless eyes further wrecked my heart with remorse. It was my fault¡­ I couldn''t bare to see her in that state either. I repeatedly intervened but my father was immensely stronger than me. So strong that I was not able to retaliate even slightly. To remind me not to interpose he constantly implemented new methods of torture onto me. From carving my flesh to even burning. Burning. This was completely new to me. In my experience blood doesn¡¯t have a smell at first, although it is very visible, tends to flood your memory and when it stains clothing that smell imprints itself on the memory event as it were there in the moment. But blood was something I had grown accustom to. I was used to those smells, but the smell of burning flesh was much more apparent and different than anything I had ever experienced. The smell of burned flesh was like smell of burnt hair, yet exponentially grown by the method in which he burnt me. Implementing a blowtorch on me while Sasha was screaming did not help me one bit. The only way I can describe the smell of my skin is that it was as if leather was left out in the rain long enough to fester slightly, and then it was burned, or at least how I image that would smell. The addition of the burnt clothing created an earthy smell, to the total experience. Sasha¡¯s desolate screams coupled with the fact that, her pregnant frame was heavily bruised in various places, gave me extreme pain. I had yet again intervened and was beginning to see that my father was getting tired off my repeated interferences. The flames. The tissues under the skin started to boil and bubble, and the skin eventually separated and fell off, exposing bare nerve endings, which are constantly irritated, The pain was like having a fire that won''t go out. Seeing me in such a scene was enough to change Sasha¡¯s behaviour and she became extremely docile. The next few months I rarely went on assignments. Refusing my father¡¯s requests for which he rewarded me with torture. I wanted to stay with Sasha. I knew from the beating of my father her pregnancy was extremely precarious. I couldn''t let anything happen to her¡­ I didn''t know then but those were the first feelings of love I was developing. An overwhelming emotion with an emphasis in the need to protect and enrich the life of another person. I never felt something so profound before¡­ That night Sasha gave birth. All the knowledge my father had given me finally came to use and I myself a 10 year old helped in bringing, Alex into the world. A small beautiful girl. She was named after her father. I could tell after the despair, which Sasha had been feeling Alex¡¯s existence had become her only source of happiness. The girl was born with a weak constitution and needed care. I begged my father to help her, but he couldn''t care less. I could tell that to my father my recent behaviour was alarming. He started to notice the subtle changes, in the way I acted. My nature of indifference was peeling away and was developing feelings for the first time toward someone other than my father. He could sense that slowly I was slipping away from his grasp. I increasingly grew close to Alex. The cute girl wouldn''t leave my side and when I held her in my arms she would slow drift away to sleep. Her cute frame making tiny whimpers that gave me indescribable joy. Her small head was resting on my shoulders and I was rocking her back and forth. Sasha was looking at me holding her small child and gave a smile so bright that it haunts my memories to this day. ¡­¡­ ¡° This is your new assignment¡­¡± my father said flinging a large file over the table. I had barely seen him these past few months due to his new ¡°project,¡± and had somewhat grown accustomed to a nonchalant lifestyle. I would train all day taking regular breaks to help Sasha with taking care of Alex. I knew that me leaving may give way to my father¡¯s repeated abuse so when he handed me a new assignment I was somewhat distraught ¡°Father is it okay if I stay here¡­¡± I whimpered. My voice barely audible due to the fear in my heart as to how he would react. ¡°Hmmm¡­ what did you say?¡± ¡°I was wondering if I could stay here. At least until Alex is old enough to take care of herself¡­¡± I urged ¡°BANG¡± My father stood up slamming his fist into the large mahogany table splitting it in half from the sheer force. I was frozen with fear. I had never seen him so angry. His usual eyes were replaced with ones that were blood shot and his body was visibly trembling. ¡°WHAT DID YOU SAY?¡± he urged. Daring me to answer. ¡°I THOUGHT YOU WILL RETURN TO YOUR SENSES AFTER SOME TIME BUT TRULY I AM SICK OF THE WAY YOU FUCKIN ACT NOW.¡± He screamed. ¡°Father I¡­I¡­¡± My voice wouldn''t come out. I was sweating profusely; my father words induced extreme fear into my very soul. ¡°I DIDN''T THINK I WOULD NEED TO RESORT TO THIS, AS THIS IS OBVIOUSLY BENEATH ME BUT, IF YOU KEEP DOING THIS I WILL MAKE SURE SASHA AND HER CHILD ARE DEAD BY THE MORNING. YOUR RECENT PUNIHMENT WOULD BE A CAKEWALK COMPARED HOW AGONIZING I CAN MAKE IT FOR THEM.¡± he screamed. I stepped back extremely frightened by the sudden surge in anger. My jaw was clenching and cold sweat was forming on the back of my body. He was going to kill them. I could tell he was definitely going to kill them¡­ ¡°Sorry father¡­sorry father¡­¡± I cried tears pouring down my face and falling to my knees. Although I was someone whose mind was no longer comparable to an average human. In front of my father, I was a mere 10-year-old child. Unable to do anything. Frightened beyond my mind. ¡°YOU MAY LEAVE¡­¡± He responded quickly turning back. ¡­. Sasha POV: I know it not Sam¡¯s fault, but I couldn''t help but be mad at him. It was his fault I am here. Bearing my child in the den of the most powerful criminal organization in the whole fuckin world. I sometimes wished I didn''t save the boy. His every sad gaze and every method to try to get close to me sickened my very soul. He didn''t seem to care though. The way he looked at me, as if his whole world revolved around my existence. The boy every morning came to feed me. I refused and sometimes even spat at the small 10 year old. He never gave up. I pushed him away. Slapped him, pinched him even once kicked him. But he stayed, and wouldn''t leave until I ate everything. Time to time he would touch my belly, just like that criminal 6th did, as if to check if my child was okay. I knew it wasn''t fair to hate the boy. He had lived a life of abuse and torture that I couldn''t even begin to envision. This all the more made me crazy. I didn''t know who to direct my anger to. I couldn¡¯t even be mad at the asshole 6th, he wouldn''t have left me alive if his son hadn¡¯t asked me to. I could tell that my incessant crying was getting to him. But what could I do¡­ except cry¡­ I got a wakeup call after about 2 months. I was crying screaming almost when the 6th walked in. He was trembling with anger. He came and slapped across the face with such force that I flew to the side and slammed on the wall. He then kicked right in the stomach. I coughed up blood all over the white wall. I started begging, I didn''t want to die. Not before I gave birth to my child. He clenched his fist and pulled his arm back to punch me. I flinched in response covering myself in the foetal position. Bracing myself for the worst, and hoping that nothing would happen to my baby. Trembling with fear¡­ But no punch came. From the corner of my eyes I saw Sam¡¯s face distort in pain as the punch landed to the side of his face with inhuman strength, creating a large gust of wind from the sheer force. Sam was flung back, blood pouring down his ears and the corner of his left eyeball. His hair flaying wildly and his cheek swollen. Surprisingly no tears came. I had realised on my first few days that 6th and Sam were incredibly strong. They moved faster than the wind, and when fighting were so ferocious and powerful it sent chills down her back. They were monsters¡­ When Sam refused to let his father abuse me any longer. The 6th¡¯s anger began to rise. I could see his maniacal expression turning stone cold. Then he proceeded to torture his son in the most inhumane way I had ever seen. I couldn''t bare to look at the boy whose small lithe body was abused and tortured in ways that felt as if I were trapped in a horror movie. The room that night echoed with screams not of Sam¡¯s but of mine. The boy made no sound whatsoever but never gave up no matter how much his father tortured him, his unyielding gaze never faltered. That was the day I changed. I no longer hated Sam, in fact I cared for him. He was boy who showed no expression or even the slightest feelings on the outside but there were few times that he would show emotion. Emotion so genuine that seeing this detached boy¡¯s expression brought indescribable joy to me. He showed the purest of smiles when caring for Alex¡­ After that he would often go on missions and come home looking more and more lifeless each time. These days of being away from us were taking a huge toll on his emotional state. Going on like this would undoubtedly break the boy. I couldn''t let that happen¡­ Maybe prior to knowing familial love, or any sort of affection he wasn''t aware of the importance of this sort of emotion. But now that he knew what was happiness and through my conditioning of teaching the boy what was good and bad. He was racked with guilt after each and every ¡®mission¡¯. ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­ *End FLASHBACK* Sam POV: ¡°If you loved her why did you kill her?¡± the interviewer rudely interrupted. ¡°Can I finish the goddamn story!¡± ............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................ been a while guys sorry for that Not gonna promise regular releases but here ya go....