I Transmigrated and Got a Husband and a Son

Chapter 691 - 695

CHAPTER 691: Understanding Hera's Pain

"Hera Cruel."

She was known by many names and for the crimes she committed, and even for the crimes she didn't commit. Many feared her and what she was capable of. Others didn't even want any business with her. There were countless lives under her belt, and their restless souls would always creep up to her feet, trying to drag her to hell where she belonged.

However, Hera wasn't always as special and fearsome as she had become. As a child, she was just like any other child: curious, innocent, and a ball of sunshine. She hadn't always understood the environment she was growing up in. She had questions - thousands of them. Even though her parents, Vicenzo and Felice, tried their best to explain everything to her, it never answered all the questions in her innocent mind.

The only time she understood was when she was at the tender age of four. When that piercing noise she often heard in the past sounded louder than it should. Her father's arms were wrapped around her tiny body protectively. She could still remember how the usually confident Vicenzo shuddered in fear while she looked at him blankly.

"Papa," she whispered, hugging him back, only to feel something hot on his back. When she retrieved her hand and shifted her gaze over her father's shoulder, her eyes landed on her palm, and that red, sticky stain was on it.

Hera had seen enough growing up, and she knew many of the uncles and aunties had disappeared after getting shot. She slowly peeled her eyes from her palms, only to see her mother rushing to them and how she fought fiercely.

Felice was yelling, calling her husband's name. On the side, Bear was also fighting and shouting the names of their people. She could see the people around her fall one after another, the aunties and uncles who had been good to her, now lying in their own blood. Their bodies would fall to the ground with a faint thud, but those who could still fight didn't have the time to mourn.

That night, Hera stopped asking questions about why there were so many people in their house. She stopped wondering if she could go to school and even grew interested in the weapons that she would always see in the house, no matter where she looked.

She understood; that night enlightened her.

Their lives were a matter of survival. If they didn't pick up their weapons and fight, they would lose everything. If they grew soft or weak, they couldn't afford to pay the price. Therefore, ever since that day, Hera, despite the fear lingering in her tender heart, had to keep an open mind in any situation. She didn't cry every time she saw someone die right before her eyes; she wouldn't even blink.

She remembered everything since that night - the good and the bad. She promised not to become a burden. They were lucky that Vicenzo survived that night, even though he was shot while protecting her. However, she didn't want to be in that position again. Thus, another promise she told herself was that she would reach a height where no one would ever touch her, no matter how much they tried.

Hera lost a lot of people on her journey. She attended countless funerals, carrying the lives of her men on her shoulders as she carried on. Even so, she often wondered when she would hold another funeral again or how many people she would lose next. Would she be the one facilitating them? Or would she be one in one of the caskets that the earth would receive?

Her every step was heavier than the last, but she was unstoppable. Her 'evilness' knew no bounds. People called her heartless, ruthless, and a devil incarnate. Someone whose death would be a favor to the world.

However, no one aside from Hera knew the nights she would crawl on the floor while she tried her best to stay sane. No one knew how she would hide in the dark to cry her heart out as silently as possible. They had no idea how many times she slammed her head against the concrete and how she would pound her fist against her chest just to keep her heart beating.