It smelled like cigarette. The brand of cigarette father’s always using. Sometimes, he and dad shared the same cigarette stick when they’re together, sitting on the warm sound of the beach while living their lives as peaceful as possible. I liked seeing them with each other. It always brings me the comfort that I had people who would accept me, love and take care of me. They always say the past was irrelevant, that I was no longer the boy they found in that disgusting, dilapidated room—where I was kept, to become someone I didn’t want to be. The man who tormented me in a daily basis, training my body to withstand any kind of pain just because it was his dream to have the ultimate assassin similar to Matthias Blaise.
I wanted to kill that man. I wanted to give back every ounce of pain he gave me, for the span of two years I was with him, I wanted to torture him every minute of his life.
But I couldn’t.
I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t like my parents or their friends. I was just a kid, an abused kid who hated the world for letting me exist. I thought saving me from hell was enough to douse the flame of hatred I had been keeping for years but it didn’t. And they knew. Mikhail and Lucas knew I couldn’t let it go.
So, they let me watch it. For a five-year-old to see how they mutilate his body, how they tear him apart, letting him rest for a couple of hours before resuming their torture—they let me watch it. He was nothing compared to the two. They had knowledge on how to inflict pain on someone without the person dying. They knew where to inflict it. Those trainings that fucker gave to me, it was child’s play to those two.
I thought I had seen the most traumatizing thing in the world, but I was dead wrong. Those two, they were insane. But they knew. They knew I had to see it. I had to see how they kill and revive him for 48 hours, non-stop until they gave me a gun to kill the man.
I couldn’t forget the first time I held a weapon. He laid on the ground, eyes streaming with blood while looking up at me as if I was the grim reaper. I felt powerful. The man who I feared the most looked at me with the same gaze I had when he had me on his feet.
Mikhail and Lucas were no ordinary people. They were far from it. But they wanted to be one. They went through hell to attain the peaceful life they always wanted, and they wanted it with me. They dressed me, loved me, gave me food and shelter. They promised to protect me.
Looking down on my bound feet, I could smell the strong stench of drying blood mixed with my own sweat.
They were aware I could easily break the rope and get out of these four bricked walls. But I knew better what would happen if I did. They’re daring me to do it, tempting me to break another rule to keep me in place.
They promised to protect me.
I tried looking at father sitting on the wooden chair in front of me. It was dark inside, only a small bulb hanging on the ceiling provided us light, but it was enough for me to see the predatory gaze father was giving me. The flicker from the end of the cigarette he was smoking reflected the disappointed stare directed at none other than me.
I remained sitting on the cold tiles. The low temperature didn’t bother me but the look he was giving me did.
I disappointed them. Because of my selfishness, I disappointed the people who saved me from hell, providing a new life for me.
I closed my eyes, picturing Drew’s face in my mind. How stupidly innocent his smile was, his puppy-eyes staring at me in admiration—fuck, I never would have imagined I’d be addicted to the brat I’m supposed to protect.
“I won’t lie, Clark,” father finally said, throwing the cigarette on the floor. He stepped on it, his eyes never leaving mine. “I am disappointed with you.”
The ache in my body I was desperately trying to ignore came back. Only a few people could inflict pain on me. Unfortunately, one of them was in front of me.
“We don’t mind if you leave us for days, a month or even a year but disappearing without contacting anyone…not even Hiro?” Father shook his head. “You didn’t just worry us, Clark. You caused a lot of trouble too.”
I lowered my head. Ah, I want to see him. “I’m…sorry, father.”
“We taught you that every action has a consequence.”
I want to see him.
The clink of the belt woke me up.
You need to be strong.
No, I want to see him.
He’s a distraction. You won’t ever become like them.
I…already killed ‘him’.
It’s not enough. You know it’s not enough.
You know this isn’t enough.
You’ll remain weak!
“No one wants you, Clark. And no one will ever want you. Because you’re a—”