TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter revolves around our antagonist who had an abusive past and is graphic. So if you're sensitive or have PTSD, just skip through this. Summary in A/N.
"Shut up!" The man slapped his wife who was crying hysterically now. The 12-year old standing next to them was screaming and shouting for help but no one wanted to interfere. The man was crazy and beating his wife and son was something he did everyday.
"Stop! You will kill Ma!" The boy shouted at his father who didn't pay any attention to him.
The man's hands were now stained with the blood of his wife but he didn't care about any of it.
"Stop." His hands instantly froze as he heard his employer's authoritative voice filled with anger.
"Sir..." The man's voice trailed off as he saw his employer clench his fists.
'If I was Mayer, he wouldn't have been this scared' he smirked as images of the time when he was in place of that boy flashed through his mind.
*******
He was only eleven when his father gave him his first art lesson. He still remembered that day clearly. The musical voices his mother made, he still smiled whenever he remembered them.
The eleven year old him had felt weird looking at his mother who sitting backwards on a chair. Her arms and legs were tied and her shirt was torn from behind. As he walked closer to her he noticed that she smelled disgusting. It was the same smell his father carried when he came back after spending a night with his friends.
He jumped a bit when his father entered the room holding something small in his hands. The boy was curious about what was about to happen.
"Why is Ma all tied up Pa?" The boy asked in a soft voice. Even though he didn't like his mother a lot, he didn't feel good looking at her like this.
His father grinned and walked closer to him.
He crouched down to his height and spoke in the soft tone he always used with him.
"Boy, what you think about art? Do you like it?"
"I like drawing but my art teacher is a meanie."
The grin was intact on his fathers' face.
"Well don't worry today I'm going to teach you a new form of art. Something your teacher doesn't even know about."
"Okay Pa." He was very excited for this. He had always liked learning new things, especially from his father. His father had taught him to kill small animals with different and creative ways and he could now easily shoot an apple sitting on top of his mother's head in a single turn using his small fake gun.
"Come here, boy." They both walked towards the table placed next to his mother. She seemed to be sleeping now.
On the table he saw some of the most beautiful knives and blades. All of them were equally amazing but there was one that caught his eye. It was a small curved blade, the handle was black with small silver spikes on the end. He picked it up and heard his father chuckle.
"Excellent choice son." He was proud of himself now. "Now listen, this is different from the meaningless lines you draw on your sketchbook. Remember once you draw something on your skin, it can not be erased so be careful and watch me. Then I'll give you a chance to show me your skills."
The boy only nodded in response. His father didn't like it when he interrupted him during a lesson. He had made that mistake once and still had scars to prove how bad his father could get.
His father took the blade from his hand and placed a chair behind his mother. He motioned for him to come closer and cut the cloth coming in his way. He felt a little bad remembering his mother saying that this was her favourite shirt.
"Would you like me to play some music?" The boy asked.
His father felt proud of him. He was a fast learner and he enjoyed doing this more than him at times.
"Go ahead."
The boy rushed over and set the record in a gramophone. Soon the room was filled with soft classical music.
He watched his father place the tip of the blade between his mother's shoulder blades. The tip was so sharp that blood started to trickle down. His mother didn't even flinch.
'Pa must've used something really strong on her.' he thought.
His father had an odd glint in his eyes. He moved the blade downwards, causing more blood to come out. He started to hum along the music, throughly enjoying himself. The boy was amazed. His father looked like an amazing artist, drawing beautiful patterns on his creamy canvas.
He stepped back after a moment. The blood all around made it impossible to see his handiwork.
"Clean her back boy." He ordered.
The boy immediately went to work. He took a wet cloth and cleaned his mother's back. He gave a surprised gasp when he saw a beautiful red butterfly on her back. Blood was still dropping from different places but he didn't seem to care.
"Can I try it now?" The boy asked, feeling excited. His father laughed in response and gave him the blade.
"Be careful though, I don't want my wife to have an ugly back." The boy nodded and came closer to his mother.
He didn't realise that he was pushing the blade with a little too much force. He kept drawing and when he turned around to see his fathers' expression, he was greeted by a sharp slap.
"What have you done? You've ruined my masterpiece. Get out of here before I do something worse."
The boy ran out and got in his bed. He had thought that his father would've liked the knife he drew.
'Maybe he didn't like my drawing.' After all drawing was never his strong point.
He slowly went to sleep thinking about the fun he had in today's lesson.
He woke up screaming. He looked down to see his hands burning.
"Why are you doing this pa?" He shouted, the pain getting unbearable.
"You had to be punished for the horrendous work you did." He replied, pushing the burning coal more into his sons' hands.
The boy continued to scream. He begged for forgiveness but his father didn't listen. When he was finally done he threw ice cold water on him and walked out.
The screaming boy made a decision that very moment. He was going to make a mess of his father's hands and a knife on his back on day.
He was fourteen now. He had learned many things about himself by now. He knew that he enjoyed inflicting pain. Something about it made him feel powerful. Once he had intentionally pushed a fellow worker in the big grinder in the factory, where he worked with his father. He felt a sense of happinesses when he heard the churning of the body. Blood flying out of the big machine. The incident was marked as an accident because no one was with the late worker, well except the fourteen year old who had mastered the art of manipulation and deception.
He had also learned to control his desires by now otherwise he would've gotten into a lot of trouble.
It was his father's birthday when he found out the reason his father hated his mother so much. She was cheating on him with the factory's owner. He felt bad that day. When he saw his drunk father, he knew it was the perfect opportunity to fulfil his promise to
himself.
He tied his father to the bed and made a deep cut on his back causing him to shout. He told him to be quiet and that he was helping him. He ran to his room when the old man fell unconscious.
His father never mentioned that night and he was glad. He knew he had helped his father by giving him physical pain that made him forget the mental pain he was going through.
Later that week, he came home to see his father hitting his mother. By the amount of blows he was giving her head, he knew she would die any moment now. He looked at her bloody self, pleading for help. He just shook his head, cheaters had to be punished otherwise things in the world would go really wrong.
He heard a car horn and immediately got into action. He smacked his head in wall causing it to bleed and sat under the kitchen table, crying.
He heard men shouting and then, a gunshot. He kept his head down and gave out a loud sob, just to add more effect.
Minutes later, he saw a man in his line of vision. It was Mayer, the guy responsible for all this chaos.
"Come on boy, you can't stay here anymore." He looked at him with wide eyes and slowly came out from his hiding position.
Mayer dragged him outside and he saw the bodies of his mother and father.
"He killed her and then shot himself." He told him, sympathy lacing his voice.
The boy knew this was complete bullshit but didn't comment on it. He just kept sobbing.
"C-can you p-please drop me at the nearest orphanage?" He asked, his eyes wide with unshed tears.
"You are coming with me boy. I'm your father now."
"B-but I don't want to be a burden on you." He hiccuped at the end.
"Don't worry. I was already looking for a heir." He smiled and the boy tried smiling back. They both walked out of the dirty house and sat in a shiny car. He looked at Mayer, the fool was making the biggest mistake of his life but he didn't tell him that just yet. He just stayed quiet and waited. After all, good things came to those who waited.
As years passed, he realised that Mayer was scared of him. His parents' death was supposed to leave him in an emotional mess but nothing like that happened. Honestly, he was glad that it was over. They both were a headache and now Mayer was becoming one too. Mayer treated him well and provided him with everything he wanted.
He was eighteen when he had enough of Mayer's whining. He was always telling him not to beat his class fellows, that it was bad for their reputation and whatnot.
Mayer had a strong liking towards alcohol and the boy used that against him. When Mayer came home after a long tiring day, he offered him a shot of vodka. He had been doing this for days now so Mayer wasn't shocked or anything and finished the drink in one go. The night was long and fun for the boy and hopefully, easy for Mayer too.
The next day the town was in chaos. Apparently a very famous businessman, Mayer Reynolds died due to drug overdose. Everything he owned was passed to his son, who he had adopted at the age of fourteen.
Things were finally going the right way.
*********
The boy tugged at his shirt and it brought him back to reality.
"Jordan, please save my Mama." The boy pleaded.
"Sure." He gestured his guards to take the man away from the woman and the kid.
To avoid being the hero, he quickly walked out of the factory without doing the inspection he had came here to perform.
I'm a villain and I'll always be that, he smirked as he saw his guards push the abusive man in the trunk of a truck.
The man would have preferred going to hell if he had a choice since everyone knew how nice Jordan was to the people who vanished off the map like that.
"Sir, there's another report." A man spoke from behind. Fortunately, Jordan wasn't annoyed that his trail of thought was disturbed.
"About who?" He asked politely.
"Christopher Shaw. He was spotted outside Jonathan Smith's house."
"Hmm, I expected him to be there. And where else he had been?" Jordan turned towards the man and gave him his full attention.
"Sorry sir. That report isn't with me. 109 is supervising this."
"Then," he paused, "get that damn report!"
The man quickly trotted towards his car and dialled a number.
Jordan smirked to himself. He certainly enjoyed how fearful people were of him and how no one had the audacity to stand against him.
Chris hadn't learned the lesson from the death of his partners. But he'll learn it. He'll learn it soon.
*********
A/N
Summary:
'In this chapter, Jordan's past is being discussed. He was an illegitimate child of a rich businessman and his mother's husband was a mental who really needed help or maybe jail idk. So the man taught his sadist ways to little Jordan who already was really fascinated by all this crazy stuff. Long story short: the crazy man kills his mama and his real father takes him away. He, later, kills his father and becomes the heir of his business.'
Hola people,
I'm in no way justifying Jordan's actions. He grew up in a bad environment but he had a chance to change. He didn't take it cause he was really ok with what he was doing. Sick.
So any ideas on how he'll deal with Chris now? Comment your suggestions.
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