Daring {Markhyuck}|| Completed

•Chapter 47•

*flashback*

"Now show me what you learned and don't come back until you've brought the dead body with you," Mark's father slammed the door shut in fourteen year old Mark's face.

Mark shuddered in the cold, winter storm. All he wore were a plain t shirt, jeans, and a pair of jogging sneakers. His attire was not fit for the weather.

He wanted to go back inside, but he knew his father had already locked him out. If he were to catch him sneaking back in, then he surely would be punished badly.

Mark never wanted to be apart of the mafia and before his mother passed away, Mark would complain to her and beg her not to let his father do that to him.

But it only lasted for so long because as soon as she was dead, his father forced him back to training and his brother was already working in the mafia gang.

Mark wanted to cry, but he did not have the energy to do so. His body felt numb, probably because of the cold too.

He knew he could potentially freeze to death out here but his father did not care.

He searched through the streets of the city, trying his best to stall and prolong encountering a bad person. He really did not want to kill anyone...good or bad.

He had no choice however, this was his job. Either he had to kill or he will be killed by his own father.

Mark was constantly in a life or death situation when it came to his father and older brother.

Mark's hands were shading purple on his finger tips as the snow smacked against his face, hitting his neck and chest which would surely get him sick tomorrow.

There was already five inches of snow on the ground, the accumulation adding up every ten minutes as it inches higher.

The snow was seeping through his sneakers; his feet were cold and practically frozen.

If this keeps up, he could catch a frost bite.

Mark had been out here for almost five hours, the dark settling amongst him as the streetlights illuminated the city.

The hairs in his nose were frozen as he crossed his arms over his chest to create some friction with his hands to warm himself up.

He could not have gone in any building either because his father has a tracking bug on him.

So it was just him suffering through a winter storm for no reason.

Mark's legs shakily and stiffly made his way towards the alleyway where there would usually be some robbers or drunken people.

He was not scared of them, no. He knew how to defend himself after all these torturous years of training.

But he did not want to kill them...his mother taught him better than that.

At the far end of an alleyway was a man probably in his early fifty's who was bundled up in a coat, hat, scarf, and gloves.

He was sat up against the wall of a building probably drugged up as Mark continued walking.

Was he a potential candidate to kill?

Mark stared at him for a few seconds before shaking his head and continuing his walk.

However the man stood up, Mark hearing the footsteps approaching from behind him so he swiftly dodged out of the way from being grabbed.

Mark felt a rush of adrenaline fill his blood, heating his like strong fourteen year old body.