The Black Swordsman

Chapter 39: A Dark Revelation

5 Years Ago:

Vassago Casals, now age 17, made his way home with four grocery bags, two in each hand, staring at the ground, not making eye contact with anyone he passed by. He knew that the majority of the people that lived in the town had heard what Vassago had done and many were terrified of him while others couldn't stand the sight of him. To Vassago, killing his father was the only way to protect his mother but in the eyes of everyone else, it made him a killer, plain and simple. Vassago couldn't blame them for the way that they felt. It wasn't their fault that they were scared of him. Usually, Vassago's mother was the one who went grocery shopping but, for some reason, she wasn't in the best of moods that morning and had yelled for Vassago to get the groceries for her. It was clear that she was already drunk despite it being so early, a common occurrence these days. He didn't mind helping, though, especially since it got him out of the house which was a rarity these days. If he wasn't inside of the house, then his mother didn't get the chance to scold him at every chance that she could. The grocery bags that Vassago was carrying were beginning to get heavier after the two miles he had to walk to return home. Luckily, he was almost home so soon he would be able to give his arms a rest.

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Vassago opened the front door to his house, awkwardly, while still carrying the two grocery bags and kicked the door shut behind him since his hands were full. He lifted the grocery bags using what little strength he had left and placed them on the kitchen counter. Vassago didn't get a greeting from his mother so he figured that she must have either been passed out on the couch in the living room or just didn't want to see his face for whatever reason. Rather than give it too much thought, he began putting the groceries away, already knowing where each thing went, since he had seen his mother do it a million times.

I wonder if mom has work, today? he thought to himself, frowning.

He rolled his eyes, recalling how many times his mother had been skipping work, lately.

We aren't going to have enough money for rent, let alone groceries, if mom keeps skipping work so frequently. God, forbid I give her grief about it, though. Maybe, I can get a part time job or something? I wonder if my mom would even allow me to do something like that? Hell, who would even hire a killer like me? Then again, I might not have a choice. I'm not the one I'm most worried about it. Someone has to protect and support...

Vassago heard a crashing sound coming from the living room, where is mother was usually sleeping and then heard a child's crying, causing him to immediately stop what he was doing and rush to check what was going on. When Vassago had made his way into the living room, his mother was standing, clearly intoxicated, so much so that she could barely stand. On the carpet, was a 5-year-old girl, huddled up into a ball, crying, with what looked like a giant wet spot on the back of the shirt she was wearing. The small girl was shaking and, upon closer inspection, she was bleeding through the shirt. Vassago's eyes then noticed a broken beer bottle next to her, indicating that his mother had thrown the beer bottle at the small girl, who was Vassago's little sister, Lilith. The cries coming from his little sister filled Vassago with rage as his mother made her way closer to Lilith as she continued to weep.

"Just when I thought my life couldn't get worse with one cursed child...I had to have another...but rather than a demon...she was born a fucking monster!"

Vassago's mother stomped on Lilith's side over and over again while she could do nothing but shudder and cry. Devil. It was the name that Vassago's mother had used to describe him his entire life. Monster. It was the name that Vassago's mother had used to describe his sister ever since she was born. To Vassago, it truly seemed that his mother was incapable of ever loving them. A part of him always knew this, deep down.