Stone Cold K*ller

prologue-epilogue part 1

***this chapter is an opening to the second book.***

5 years later.....

Julian Masters POV

Crickets singing, leaves falling, wolves crying.

The night is silent and yet not, alone with abandoning thoughts. The cool, crisp night air condensates every breath taken.

Ever since my body has been forcibly taken the S Serum years ago, my senses and physical being have heightened. Having the abilities of hearing a mile away, tasting ten times over average, my eyesight clear within night seeing. My body I can control how my hair color is, my eye color, and most recently, my voice. It has become deeper over the years, so deep as if monotonous wasn't enough.

When I ran away from Edmond and the Scientist, i never looked back--though it hurt.

Because I was leaving behind the one person that mattered to me.

I had, too, in order to become who I am today. Stronger.

Changed my name and identity once I learned how at such a young age. Worked in low down places, ate on the streets, and witnessed murderers. Scenes a teenager should never endure in childhood. Yet, my childhood was for and was only meant for experimenting.

Now that I have been found by Stone, I knew it was just the beginning. I knew all about him, his history. For a purpose, they have been met.

For her.

For I knew in my heart she needed out too, out of that place of the Galeons. So i orchestrated part of it.

In the end, I know I should regret it, for sure I should. But...I don't.

Because she is here, safe, with me.

"Papa! Watch this!"

Oh, and him. "Drake, get down before your mother beheads me," I say, "heathen."

It's been five years since Drake had been born, here in a little town between the Mountains of Alaska. We live in a small cottage in the woodsy area, where you can view the snowcapped valley ahead.

Drake slowly climbs down a tree branch, ever so daring for a shorty like him, "but Papa...." he whines, pouting.

I sigh, "It's dark and late. We head back now. Mama would commit horrifics such as a wooden spoon shoved up my ass." I complain a bit because I wouldn't put it past her crazy Italian roots.

Drake slaps his palm on his lips, saying, "Ooooh, bad word!"

I frown, "ass? No, it's not a bad word? It's literally your bum in fancy layman's terms."

He tilts his head, eyes squinting, "layman's terms?"

Right, "Let's go." I wave my hand, "come on, kid." I pat his dark head of curls as his dark blue eyes shine from the moonlit landscape.

We did make a pretty good hike in a long distance. About 2 miles up hill from our home. I made sure to bundle him up in warm clothing--as for me, I dont need much. My body produces huge amounts of heat.

As we near the cottage, I look down beside me to Drake as I walk along...

He is a spitting image of his blood father.

In that thought, when he was born and she had me hold him in my arms, so small, so pure of innocence.

At that moment, I vowed to protect him from harm...

After a couple of years passed, he started calling me Papa. None of us corrected him.

And now, I have found myself devoted to the two of them.