"She's a strange one, isn't she?"
Throughout time, there's been a certain.. tradition, if you will, that occurred to everyone from a famous dynasty. It passes down from grandparents to parents, parents to children, and the cycle continues for eterni...
This chapter was kind of hard to write. I hope you enjoy it. :) Pretty short because I'm trying super hard to get back into writing!
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Samuel(third person)
Warning: Scenes of sexual and physical abuse.
"So, he's dead."
"Yes."
The two men spoke quietly, almost inaudibly, walking down the paved sidewalk shoulder to shoulder. Meetings such as this were common, about every two weeks or so. They were often late into the evening, but this time it took place bright and early at seven thirty.
Dark brown hair covered the eyes of the Samuel, but a small scar was still visible underneath his left eye. The older man appeared to be in his mid to late fifties - perhaps a bit older. He wore a long black trench coat that reached to his ankles, and a brown hat that somewhat tipped just above his wrinkled forehead.
"And...how did he die?" The man asked.
"I~" Samuel slightly froze in position with a curt sigh. How could he possibly explain to his mentor that he was the one who killed Edward? He couldn't. He simply couldn't. "I'm sorry, Kenny."
That was all the older man needed to hear to know that his accomplice was murdered by his own mentee. Kenny grunted a bit before spitting onto the ground, right besides his boot. "I see. You aren't forgetting what you're supposed to be doing, right, buccaneer? Time's runnin' out." The man went to turn around and Samuel gulped, watching intensely as Kenny shoved his old, wrinkled hands that have been worn by battle into the warmth of his pockets. "Love ain't gonna save ya. You've always been a boy that felt too hard."
Samuel's eyes immediately widened and he appeared to go into some type of trance. The warning 'love' noticeably struck him, filling his mind with scenarios that happened long ago. His head began to ache, and he dropped to his knees, his chestnut hues beginning to water with warm tears. Love. He absolutely hated that word.
"Sammy - oh, my little Kano." His once beautiful mother appeared before him in a different reality. Transported back in time, Samuel lay in his bed back in his room from the Underground. He was on his back, and a heavy weight resided on top of him. He refused to open his eyes, far too terrified to witness what was happening, though he already knew. "K-Kano, my sweet Kano."
The tears remained the same. It raced down his fiery cheeks but he somehow managed to keep loud sobs muffled within his scratchy throat. His body jerked, and still he refused to open his eyes.
