Amissis Imperium

Minister of War

I stared up at the large, heavy doors in front of me. There was nothing but dread being filled throughout my entire body – my fingertips were shaking and I didn't want to meet the man that was going to be behind these doors.

Brendon had told me that only Vincent would be in here at this time. It was going to be up to me to get rid of the man that had --

No.

No, stop that, Natalie.

He doesn't mean anything to you.

He wasn't your father.

There's no way that a father would do the things he did to their daughter. There was no way that he would force his daughter to get an abortion without her consent. There was no way that he wouldn't put her feelings ahead of his own – her dreams and ambitions ahead of himself.

I had always thought of my father as being a blank silhouette when I was growing up. Even as a mysterious, undefined character, I imagined him smiling and laughing from my childhood. I had seen pictures of what a father should be, even Ally's fathers were smiling and cracking jokes. So, I had selfishly envisioned him as being similar to them.

I had wanted my father to be kind, selfless, and nurturing --

That was asking for too much...

I had no idea what he had even looked like, mom – well, Katherine...she never had any pictures of him. Not a single picture of Vincent had been hung around the house, not a glimpse of him adorned the walls of the abode.

I would ask, sometimes, when I was child. I would inquire about my father, but she was quick to dismiss my questioning attitude and would manipulate me into thinking about something else.

All these years, that silhouette that had been conjured inside of my mind was brought harshly into reality. I met the man that I had wanted to meet when I was child. It was clear as day as to what was coursing through my mind:

He was better off being in my imagination.

Much much better in my imagination than in reality --

Never meet your heroes.

I opened up the doors slowly, keeping the gun that Brendon had given me behind me. I didn't know what good it would do to pretend that I was holding something else out of his sight. To me, it seemed less threatening to do it this way –

If only my father wasn't a psychopath.

"Natalie," Vincent spoke over to me, at seeing that I had entered the room.

I hadn't even taken a single step in the large room that he was in all by himself. He was a good distance away from the doors himself. He was situated in a large chair, almost akin to a throne towards the back of the room. His leg had been crossed, laying lazily on a knee as his arm was resting on the arm rest. It was propped up and held his head up as he dug a clenched fist into the side of his cheek.

We locked eyes for a few seconds, the air feeling incredibly tense between the two of us.

The gun felt heavy behind my back, but I should have known that Vincent would have seen through me. He had years of experience that I didn't have in being a homicidal maniac. I could feel that my throat was beginning to grow dry and itchy.

Vincent's face gave nothing away as a slow smug smirk grew across his face. It began to fill me with even more unease, and I clenched the gun that I was holding tightly to prevent the trembling that had wanted to show itself through my fingers.