"Are you out of your mind? I could hurt you." The veins started to pumped up in fear of what i'm capable to do. Everything was a blur to me, the room becoming sketchy as the time passed by and he's here down in his knees-looking up at me. A look of...
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I have never feel furious.
All in my life, I remain calm and behaved like they monitored me as a helpless dog I was. They all know me as the weapon, a weapon who shouldn't left rusted. They know me as the Supreme President filled with inspiring ambitions in his goals, and that way they couldn't destroy my well-being, and my unreachable standard form of reputation.
My name is protected in a locked-up cage, along with the headmistress' name protecting my position. With the legacy of my own family line.
I had never wished to be known as a Zamien, the well-known Zamien's Heir with a long dedicated history leadership of presidency.
With all that means, the name of Zamien were unable to be rusted, dirty, and with their sick series of algorithms and monitor-tracking, their underground employees were able to filter out any connections, profile information, and the edge verge of their systems out of civilization that maintains their filthy rich creations within the use of dirty money.
And I was told from a young age that my existence were desire to kill, to have a use of my potential to murder that it only exceed to that path of my own being. I was no exception of the classified murderer of the Zamien's, unable to escape or even break the cycle of the Zamien's bloodline in killing.
The potential in me were unbearable to hold, yet it was the only thing that I was able to yearn; was the hungry power amongst the Zamien's, unexpectedly becoming the heir other than my relatives who were waiting for all their lives to become the successor next in line, only for a twenty years old; the youngest amongst them to get the entire inheritance of the walking legacy of the Zamien's descendants, inshort, me.
The hatred grew inside them, completely eating them alive—all due of my existence being the caused of their fury that takes them long enough to release from their agony. My mother had always told me to keep my shits together, not to get the emotions best of me because it isn't something that a successor be, upon that, I was raised to follow the things I was told to. Building high walls around me.
Completely unreachable. I build myself to be the feared leader I am; I've succeeded, and no one question my authority of administration. I refused to give them the satisfaction of my downfall.
And it's a first, the fucking first time I lost my patience when I saw the only girl I hold my strength into, the only one who stared at me directly in the eye—with no fear in her. The same girl who has spoken to me with no filter; Someone who's not afraid to be put up against me, with thick long walls surrounding her that were unable to be destroyed, even me, and is now here infront of me.
Looking so hurt and scared.
I could almost see her eyes being so dwell red–small tears building in the corner of her eyes that disappears right away when she blinked. My palm placed on her left cheek where such a red sting of mark were visible. I would dare to harm anyone who hurt her, within the use of my skills of killing.
