The Elevator

Bonus Chapter: Xavier's Childhood

Xavier 

I stare at the small pebbled gravestone. There is nothing extravagant, there is nothing extraordinary about this place that is hidden away. You wouldn't be able to tell this place existed unless you knew where you were going. There on the small gravestone, scratched into the surface was the scruffy handwriting of a small boy who wanted somewhere to remember someone he lost. 

Here lies Isabella Marvis. 

A kind and loving mother who would never be forgotten. 

My mother was an extremely beautiful woman, she was happy with the simplest of things. She wasn't materialistic, she wasn't cruel. She was kind and her laugh was something I could never forget. She always tried to see the best in people, even my father. 

My father, well he was the opposite of my mother. He wanted power, he craved riches, he didn't care what means he took to get them. His indifference to my mother was something I grew up watching. My mother would try and hide the tear that escaped her eye when my father was abusive or cruel. She was hide her flinch from the touch of her children because she was in fear of being hit or abused. She lived in a world of fear all thanks to my father and his mistresses. Neither didn't hesitate from causing her harm. 

My father was extremely close with my brother. For him, he was all that mattered. He was the heir to the Kingdom that he had built. The Kingdom that was built on the blood and pain of others. He didn't care who he hurt. He abused his powers of being a wolf. Both my father and brother enjoyed taunting the humans, for they believed they were despicable beings, unworthy of the life they lived. 

While Kieron was sheltered under my fathers wing, I was protected by my mother. Whatever blow or hit came my way, my mother took. While I would thrash about trying to protect her. My brother Kieron would watch on with a smirk on his face. Enjoying the torture, the pain of the woman that saw him come into this world. Still to this day, I don't understand how or why he hated my mother. For she was a good woman. Anyone would have been lucky to have her. 

It wasn't until my tenth birthday that I would never see her again. My father had brutally beaten my mother until she was covered in black and blue bruises. His eyes flamed like the devil's. He didn't care as he looked at the woman who was meant to be his mate crumble before him. I still remember her coughing up blood as she was laying in a foetal position, clutching her knees tightly to her chest. 

I screamed, I cried, I pulled back and forth, trying to pry myself out of the arms of one of my father's goons. It was there that my brother stood tall, next to him, with the same cold and callous look in his eyes. My father looked at him with a smirk. There he looked down at his son, his pride, his joy. He calmly spoke words, that no father should say to their child. 

"Kill your mother Kieron." My father's face was filled with menace. 

"What are you talking about? Why would you ask him to do something like that? What is wrong with you, you sick bastard?" I screamed at the top of my lungs, watching my mother whimper as her eyes were glazed over.

BANG. A fist collided with my face, the crack of my nose filled the empty room. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. Despite the force that hit my face. I didn't care, all I could do was continue to pry my body away from the man who was tightly clutching my arms. All I wanted to do was run to my mother, I wanted to do was reach my mother, stand in front of her, protect her from the beasts that were destroying our happiness. 

My brother, looked at my father, for a second his eyes flashed with a shock, it was then that I saw a child, not a monster. It was then that a slither of hope creeped in my heart. However it was short lived, for that look of innocence and surprise just disappeared. It was replaced with a coldness that was reflected in my father. He took slow and steady steps towards my mother, he knelt down and lifted his hand and gently caressed her face. My mother closed her eyes at the soft touch of her skin. Her eyes tightly squeezed closed, I could see the expression on her face, she was memorising the gentleness of my brother's touch. I saw a small tear escape her eye and just as her mouth opened by brother pulled a silver knife that gleamed brightly in the darkness. 

Before a word could leave my mouth, the knife swung through the air, grazing the skin on my mother's throat. It was there that a river of blood poured out onto the floor. I couldn't help but let out a huge sob. The pain was excruciating, the wail that lingered in the air was one that sounded like I was being throttled. However, that pain soon became so numbing that I felt my body become limp, I felt myself give up. I couldn't work out what I had to live for anymore. 

The sickening part was my father didn't cry, he didn't feel pain, he just looked at my brother, his eyes twinkled with excitement and pride. He looked at the boy he had made. He was almost a replica of the sick bastard I called father. My brother was stone cold and he stood up and looked into my father's gaze. 

"You have made me proud my son. You do not bow down to weakness. You are the perfect heir to my Kingdom." My father announced. 

Everyone looked at the father-son duo. The goons that decorated the room all bowed their heads in respect. While I stood their emotionless, my fist was tightly clenched at the scene in front of me. Both of them ignored my presence and walked out the room. Soon, it was just me and my dead mother left in the cold concrete room. I sat with her, my mother's head in my lap, I stroked her hair gently, praying that this was some type of sick game. However, I couldn't ignore the coldness of her skin. 

I don't know how long I spent there but my eyes closed and I dreamed of her. I dreamed that her soft cheeks were still rosy, her skin wasn't marred with bruises or cuts, she was laughing, she was smiling. However, the ache in my chest kept telling me it was a dream, it was nothing but an illusion. By the time I opened my eyes, my mother's body was gone, my older brother was stood in place, looking down on me with a sneer on his face. 

"Your pathetic, she's dead, she's not coming back. It's time for you to stop being mumma's boy and start being a man. Get up and get to work. Don't make me ask you again. You won't like it."

That night, I disappeared into the thick forest. I found the place where I would hide with mother and I found the largest stone where I scratched her name, her personality, her role in my life. No matter what they did to me, I wouldn't forget her. I wouldn't let them turn me into the sick monsters they were. I wouldn't lose my humanity. I wouldn't lose the morals that she taught me.

As I scratched the last words on my grave, I promised my mother I would put a stop to the man I called father. I would try and save my brother even if he was unredeemable. I would try and bring peace to her resting soul.