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 façade 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.
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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…
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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)
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