AN: /This is a new series we will be working on a lot more sometime soon, particularly after other stories are finished. This it to see if any readers are interested in this sort of story. Enjoy./
The past will often attack the present with the pain of your memories.
-Seiichi Kirima
Prologue: Christmas Eve
The night was quiet outside- the moon full and proud, casting shadows on the town. But inside lights shown bright and laughter bellowed loudly- smiles and shining eyes on everyone there.
All except little Felix at the stubborn age of 7, who was sulking in his room, stomping around for all the good that did. He was upset he couldn't be at the party too, feeling neglected of attention and missing out on all the fun the adults were having.
Trying to sneak down had been a mistake, as his mother caught and scolded him before bringing him back up to his room.
"No Felix, you're not allowed down there! How many times do I need to I tell you?" His mother berated.
"Why not?!"
"Because it's for grown ups, I told you already that you're too young."
"But that's not fair!" Felix whined, stomping his foot in frustration. "There's nothing to do up here!"
"I have half a mind to ground you, Feli. Don't push my buttons."
"Go ahead." Felix said stubbornly. "I hate this family! I wish I didn't have one."
Hurt flashed across her face before she hardened her facial expression, saying harshly, "If you woke up to us gone, you'd be sad."
"No, I'd be able to do whatever I want!"
"...goodnight, Felix." His mother said, expression unreadable as she closed the door behind her.
"I hate you!" Felix yelled angrily, throwing his pillow at the door before falling onto his bed, huffing into the mattress, "So stupid! Uhg!" And eventually, after his anger had faded, he passed out.
He woke up to a peculiar noise; a muffled shuffling, like something dragging across the floor.
"M-mommy?" He called out into the dark hallway, creeping out of his room. "Daddy?" Getting no answer, he crept down the hall and opened his parent's bedroom door.
No one there.
Feeling more panicked, he snuck down the stairs and into the living room, peering around the corner.
There was a strange man there in a black suit, white porcelain mask covering his face.
"W-who are you?" Felix called out curiously, though scared out of his wits. The man turned toward him, and that's when Felix saw them. His parents' cold, lifeless bodies laid on the floor, skin now appearing diseased with blood streaming out every orifice of their face.
Their necks were covered with scratch marks, almost like they were attempting to rip something out of their throats. It was horrifying to see, and even more traumatizing to a young child.
"M-mommy?" The young child whimpered, "Daddy?!"
The man came closer to little Felix, who quickly put on a fake bravo and shouted, "S-stay away! Leave me alone!" Picking up a random present next to the Christmas tree, he threw it at the man and tried to open the door that lead outside.
It wouldn't open.
Yanking and twisting desperately, he turned to see the man right behind him, watching. He leaned down and peered into little Felix's face, white poker face unchanging as he just stared.
"...Don't worry, I'm not here for you." His deep voice spoke -devoid of emotion- before standing up straight and unlocking the door, gently pushing Felix aside and walking out into the night.
Taking his personal cell out of his pocket, he hit the speed dial, speaking quickly though calmly, "Obiective amplasate și eliminate.."
"Și băiatul?"
"A fost in grija."
"Excelent. Contactați poliția pentru a avea grijă de mizerie. Apoi curat și un raport de bază pentru urmatoarea misiune."
"Înțeleasă."
"Cei Aleși apreciază serviciile tale."
"Sunt fericit pentru a servi." Hitting the end button, he took out a disposable cell and dialed 911.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"There are two more associates of your government taken out tonight. A newly orphaned boy is in need of a home, residing in 347 Danker Ave. See to it that you take care of the problem. The Alesi Family sends their regards."
"Wha- Sir, I need you to stay on the pho-"
Then hung up, tossing the cell into a nearby trash can, and left the scene. It would soon be swarming with cops- he didn't need the heat.
The cops were greeted by the sight of a little boy crouched over his dead parents, sobbing into his mother's chest as he held onto her, curled into fetal position.
It broke Sheriff Helena Shire's heart to pull him away from her, wailing and flailing himself wildly as he tried to reach for his mother again, hiccuping. "I'm sorry mommy, I didn't mean what I said! Please wake up! MOMMY!"
The newly orphaned boy got his wish.
MP (Masked Person)- Targets sited and disposed of.
POP (Person on Phone)- And the boy?
MP- Taken care of
POP- Excellent. Contact the police to take care of the mess. Then clean up and report to Base for your next assignment.
MP- Understood.
POP- The Chosen Ones appreciate your assistance.
MP- I'm happy to serve.