"Ow..."
The young blond muttered under his breath, wincing sharply as Hannah applied the antiseptic to the cut on his cheek.
His usual, blank expression was broken into a sustained, rough grimace as the liquid continuously stung the raw, darkened flesh that had been soaking the gauze pad all this time.
The wounds on his hand were wrapped in a brand-new plaster, indicating that they had already been tended to by the staff woman.
"God... How does one get slashed like this?"
Hannah whispered, her lips forming an ugly sneer as she kept her ministrations on Chaos' cheek.
The young killer did not bother to answer, feeling his tears well up in his scrunched eyes, for the stinging sensation was proving to be too much for him to handle.
But pain was an old feeling—an old friend that had always been there with him ever since his birth.
Pain of losing people, pain of the abuse that he had endured, pain of all the harsh training in Moscow. Physical pain, emotional pain—and worst of all—pain of being a disappointment.
He had felt every single one of them in these 20 years of living, and he knew that it was only the beginning.
And so, he didn't really bother to think about it, for his mother's words were proven to be true.
"Thinking only makes it worse..."
When the staff woman finally finished cleaning up his gash, she stood up on the ground before opening her mouth to give out a satisfied sigh.
Alright! I guess that will do it," she said, wiping the blood stains from her gloved hands. "Paulie turned on the geyser a few minutes ago, so the water's probably warm now. Go take a shower."
Chaos just looked up at Hannah with blank, half-lidded eyes before nodding slightly and standing up from the bench.
Handing him a towel, the brown-haired woman turned around, stepping towards the exit and leaving the young blond to fend for himself.
Rising up from the steel seat, Chaos draped the towel over his shoulder and walked towards one of the shower stalls.
As the shower began running, droplets of warm water washed away the stains on his pale, lean body—cleansing him of both his own blood and the blood of the people he had to overcome to survive.
Vague memories raced through his mind like flashes. Vague memories that he knew he could never share with anyone. Vague memories... that always haunted him whenever he was alone.
"Please... Please..."
The voice... the sweet, low voice of a girl... no older than a sixth grader...
Click. Click.
The rhythmic sound... of someone clicking a retractable pen... as if trying to signal something...
"Please don't kill me... Please..."
The girl... crawling on the bleeding ground... eyes welling up with desperate tears... as the world blurred away around her...
"I beg you please... I beg you..."
In front of the girl... laid a chilling scene... a small hand... much like her own... leveling a handgun at her helpless frame... as a finger tightened on the trigger...
"I— I... Please I... I don't wanna die..."
The haunting words... repeated over and over again... the girl trying her hardest... to convince the hand for mercy...
Dilated in fear... her eyes shook relentlessly... and her face was an ugly mess... bleeding profusely... from the slashes it had received...
"I don't wanna die... I don't wanna di—"
BANG!
Just as the gunshot cleared, Chaos immediately clamped his eyes shut, his calm, blank face hiding the depths of a regret that only existed behind his lids.
"And I talk about love..."
The young blond muttered under his breath, slowly opening his eyes in the steam and gazing at the puddles of water that were pooling around his feet...
.....
.....
.....
The training hall was just as chaotic as ever, children wrestling heedlessly with each other, teenagers sparring with all their strengths and young adults trying to bring out their hidden potential in their brutal clashes.
The supervisors intently observed their fights, sternly intervening only when the violence grew to its peak.
And the fights did turn gory, slowly and slowly as one of the older trainees almost strangled his opponent to death, like a savage beast.
Blood spurted out of the other senior's mouth, flecking his opponent's face in a desperate attempt to distract him. But that didn't stop the squeezing.
Struggling for air, the young man grabbed the strangler's inner elbows, yanking them forward to loosen the suffocating grip.
But that only fueled his fury, causing him to give two hard elbows to his opponent's face, before pushing his head against the hard surface to crush his skull.
Blood sprayed from the young man's nose and mouth as he slammed a palm into the strangler's face, his thumb hooking towards the socket, trying his hardest to drive a finger into his opposition's eye.
However, the strangling teen did not budge, avoiding the thumb by fiercely jerking his head away. He stood his ground and went right back to his strangling, his eyes brimming with just enough intensity and willpower to finish off a kill.
And then it happened...
Click.
The same pen click from Chaos' memory. Only this time, it was done just once.
And immediately, without wasting another breath, Matei stopped choking his brother, loosening his grip entirely.
The young, bloodied trainee on the ground gasped frantically for air, coughing up some more gore in the process as the staff members moved towards him with clinical indifference.
Matei himself gasped for air, his chest heaving with each panting breath as he moved out of the way for the staff to take care of his broken opponent.
All his section mates were standing in two lines, surrounding the supervisor—an intimidating man who was wearing a brown suit, sitting on a steel chair with a pen and a notebook in his fists.
They were all silently dazzled by the young man's performance, but none dared to show any flicker of enthusiasm for him, as that would have gotten them to be punished or even 'expelled'.
Writing on the notebook, the supervisor looked up at Matei with a cold, thin smile, only allowing the other trainees to give a round of applause when he began clapping his hands.
And that was just one fight, for the entire hall was filled to the core with silent but deadly blood-spilling, all under the absolute control of the supervisors.
However, that wasn't even the end of the chain, for the supervisors were human too. And when they faltered in handling their sections, they were overseen by none other than Boris, the chief supervisor of the academy.
But of course, no one came close to the power of the one who stood above them all—the matriarch of the entire Belayev family: Likho.
And when Boris was notified that she was going to enter the hall in a short while, he immediately rushed to his walkie talkie, commanding the supervisors to arrange the children in an assembly.
.....
.....
.....
Getting out of the shower stall, Chaos hurried to get himself ready as quickly as possible, for he thought he was already late by five minutes for his mother's lecture.
Even as a cold, emotionless killer, the young blond couldn't escape the clutches of time. And had to run to the training hall once he was fully dressed up.
The hallways were a desert, not a single staff worker in sight, for this was the most important time of all their lives. The lecture of the mother they hardly saw every year.
And when the young killer reached the entrance, the doors were closed, indicating that the lecture had already began.
He gave a couple of gentle knocks on the door as pushing it roughly might just interrupt Likho's lecture.
Opening the door slightly, a staff worker made way for Chaos to enter and when he did, Glaz immediately spotted him.
She quickly closed in to her little brother, wrapping her arms around his and silently pulling him to where he should be standing.
"Where were you, Love? Sila was almost about to send Hannah for you."
She whispered quietly, prompting Chaos to become really apologetic.
"I- I am sorry, I was in the shower..."
Moving him to his spot, Glaz immediately sensed the guilt that was washing over her little brother, causing her heart to clench tightly.
And without any hesitation, she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek to wash away all his sorrow.
She smiled at him, knowing that even though he was a real concern for targets in the underworld, he was still a child. And that, he would always be her little brother.
"It's okay. Just stand here, alright?"
The young blond immediately felt better, nodding and curving his lips to give a faint smile at his elder sister, before slowly shifting his focus to their mother.
The speech was ongoing, occurring only a couple of long steps ahead of Chaos. And it was an introduction, a testament to the hundreds of trainees that the mythic woman standing before them was indeed real.
At least, that was the case for the newcomers. For the 'old ones', she was a goddess they saw perhaps only once a year—but they saw her nonetheless, and the sight was never forgotten.
But nobody batted an eye. Nobody expressed joy or anger, watching and listening to their so-called mother speak. They could only do that in their chambers, when they were outside the confines of their training.
"And not a single second has been wasted..."
Likho's words cut through Chaos' focus, her eyes prancing around on her children's faces as she collected them all onto her memory.
"My children... Look at your hands... And look at the world outside these walls..."
She swept her hand steadily, pointing at the layers of the hall and holding onto the podium as she spoke.
"Look at the skies from your windows..."
She pointed at the ceiling and the large glass gaps on the top of the walls, prompting the young blonde to move his eyes to them.
"And you will see it's beautiful."
It was beautiful... Much more beautiful than the life he had to survive to come this far.
"But everything needs a price."
And that caused Chaos to turn his focus back to his mother, for he knew that was the truth. Everything does need a price.
"And this price can only be achieved if you use your hands. Not for good obviously."
The trainees were all still, not a single beat of sound escaping from the ranks for they knew what was coming.
"But for what you are needed to do."
Something that Chaos had been taught over and over again.
"Morality... doesn't exist... It's a myth... created by a system that hides its own tail."
The cold, hard truth of Likho's words reverberated through the entire hall, a silent agreement of all the supervisors and the assassins to bow their heads down.
"And that tail is the very thing you need to prepare for."
Her voice was incredibly calm, almost like a whisper, pulling every ear in the hall towards her.
"For, my children, you are the price. You... are the price... of your own lives."
But her voice didn't keep being that, molding into something firmer as she continued her speech.
"And you will only get it back once you paid for it."
Chaos gulped at the haunting words, his blank, emotionless face becoming one of a more darkened expression.
"And what better way to pay than to do what I train your hands to do?"
Indeed... what better way to pay someone than to do what they raised you to do?
For Chaos knew, at the end of the day, he wasn't raised out of love.
No... no, he... was raised out of spite... Spite of all the crimelords that hired him to do their bidding... Spite from their hatred... Spite from their benefit... And spite from their vengeance...