His screams fill the room as the bullet shatters his kneecap. I hold a mask of cold indifference on my face, as the man whimpers on the floor. I glance up at the other men in the room as I tuck my gun away. Their poker game now completely forgotten, they watch me with fear filled eyes. I turn and walk to the door, making myself pause and look back to deliver the last piece of my warning.
"You've got till the end of the month to get us the rest of the money or your a dead man."
With that I turn and leave the shady hotel, my heels tricking on the concrete as I walk across to my car. My hand beginning to shake but I don't let my iron mask fall. Don't give myself the luxury of tears, instead I take this new horrible memory and shove it deep into the vault inside my mind.
I've been doing Abe's dirt work for nearly 5 years, making threats, spying, interacting prisoner, hacking security systems and a whole lot more. He orders it and I obey, without question or argument. I learnt to keep my mouth shut and opinions to myself the hard way. My father shows me no mercy when I displease him, he is cruel and ruthless.
It was not always this way, once there was a time when he truly loved me back before he died. The first 5 year of my life where full of laughter and love. My mother, Janine was a dampier and when she fell in love with my father, they ran away together. Not caring about the stigmas associated with mori dampire relationships. They loved me and each other world came crash down around us the day he die. For six months we thought he was gone, truly dead. But we were wrong, they didn't just kill him, they turn him. And then one night he came back for us. The fight was brutal and end with mum setting our house on fire with him still inside. We ran back to her homeland, Scotland in search ofsafety. And for a short time we found it behind the wards of her old academy. But that safe came with a heavy price because 3 yearslater, my father returned, more powerful than ever before. He brokethe ward and with his follower proceeded to rip the place apart. It was a massacre, the likes of which the mori world had not seen in over 100 years.
He took me from the bloody ruins of the academy, back to Russia and the centre of his empire. To be raised amongst monsters, until the day of my 18th birthday when I would become one as well.
I have less than 6 months left now. With every passing day I feel the noose draw tighter, and my operation for escape dwindled. I've triedmany times over the year to run, but every attempt failed and earnme countless scars for my trouble. During these last few week I have been even more reckless than usual, flirting with danger at every turn because I would truly rather die than lose what little humanity I have left.
The sun begins to sink in the sky as I speed along the winding back roads towards my father's country estate. Novosibirsk fades into the distance behind me. My hand grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white as the wrought iron gates appear ahead. Just one more week, just one more. I promise myself, one way or another I will escape my father.
Please tell me what you think so far, some constructive criticism would be helpful.