Fate

2

Declan's POV

As I sit behind the steering wheel, I can't help but feel like somethings wrong. Why? I don't exactly know. My heart beat has quickened since we left the grocery store and my palms are sweaty.

Pulling into our driveway, it gets worse. My heart beat has tripled and I'm practically leaking sweat. I notice the door is wide open. Dad never leaves the door open. I ask mom to grab some of the groceries while I look around the house. Walking directly in, I see my fathers head departed from his body.

I feel a sob rack through my body. Why? I hold it all in when I hear my moms footsteps approaching. "Don't go in there ma," I say, my voice breaking a bit.

"Why baby what happe-," her sentence was cut of by a piercing scream. She dropped everything she had picked up and rushed over to my father.

"Ma," I said, uneasiness in my voice. "Ma," I repeated, a little louder. "MOM!" I yelled. She turned her head back to me and I felt a pang in my chest. "There's no use, ma, he's gone," I say as I reach for her.

I gather my mother in my arms and cover her eyes while stepping over my fathers limp body. I take her to the guest room, laying her down and kissing her on the forehead.

Once she's sound asleep, I walk to the kitchen. I can smell the brassy blood and it makes me want to cry too. But I can't. Not cause of the whole male thing like "I'm a man and I can't cry". It's "my moms already breaking down and if she sees me crying she'll cry even worse".

I reach up to get a glass. I need to wash the knot in my throat down. As I round the counter, I see a note by my fathers head and I'm quick to snatch it up. With fumbling hands I read,

"Dear Declan, I know you'll be home soon and I just wanted to let you know that this whole thing was an accident. I tripped, fell and beheaded your father. You have my condolences. Just know that it should have been you, but you weren't exactly available. Call me to reschedule. Your greatest enemy, Faith Marshall. P.S. here's my number ***-***-****"

What kind of sick game is this? I immediately reached for my phone that was placed in my pocket. It rang and rang and rang. No answer. So I tried again and again. Who the fuck is Faith Marshall and why is she my enemy?

I rushed back to my mom and woke her. "Read this ma," I say. I watch as her eyes scan the piece of paper. She turns so white I'm afraid I've given her a heart attack.

What does she know? "M-marshall?" she stuttered out. "Yes, ma. Why are you so pale? What do you know?"

She hesitated slightly. "Can you clean up your fathers body so we can talk?" she asked. I slowly nodded. This was going to be the hardest task of my life.

After cleaning up my fathers remains and putting them in a bag, I shower. This information isn't more important than washing my fathers blood off of my body.

Taking a shower was relieving. I walk back into the kitchen afterward to see my mom sitting there, staring at where my fathers body once lay. I touch her shoulder softly and say, "Tell me what you know."

She takes a deep breath before starting. "It all started with your fathers great great great great grandfather. The Marshalls and the Russos were great friends. So great, in fact, that they started a mafia together. Went to war, sold and shipped drugs and guns, and did many illegal things together.

"That great friendship ended when your great great great great great grandfather slept with old man Marshall's girl. It's kind of sad that so many people died over a girl. They killed the girl, too. That started this war. And it's been happening for generation after generation, kid after kid. Your father wanted to stop this madness, start a family, and settle down but Alfred Marshall didn't want that. He wanted to end your father. So he tried. And tried and tried and tried.

"Your father didn't want you to be unprepared. That's why he signed you up for MMA and taught you at home how to fight. He failed to show you how to use a weapon. Perhaps, that's my fault. I told him to hold off until you were eighteen but I guess we're just too damn late," she paused, sniffling. "Anyways, Alfred had a daughter. He tried for a son but his wife isn't fertile anymore. Your father's been keeping track of all of them. And now it's your time to ruin this 'Faith Marshall'," she said with finality.

"And I will mama," I say, grabbing her hand in reassurance, "I will."

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i think these are a bit short but idk. tell me what you think😐😽🤬😈🥶😿🥺😿😭👺👹🥺👹🥺😼😈😼😳😻🙄😳😛🥶🥺😗🙄👹😗