Villian Like

Chapter 24: her past and her tears pt.1

It's been months of grueling training for Damion and Amandala. And she still wouldn't tell him what battle they were going into. He debated talking to her, but every chance he had, he chickened out at the last second. But today, that changes.

He walks into her large office, bile rising into his throat. He saw her at her desk, moving holographic files around while mumbling to herself. He then cleared his throat, getting her attention.

She looked past all the files at her adopted son and asked, "What can I do for you, kid?" She asked, looking back at her files and notes.

He began to play with his bracelet. “Um,” he started, still scared to ask this question: “I've been wondering…….why are we going to attack the heroes?" He muttered out

She freezes; she never told the kid her reason for everything or her motives. She let go of the files in hand and began to close everything, startling Damion. He began to panic internally that he had offended her, but he noticed her strong aura of caramel dimming. 

She slowly stands up and approaches a wall. And before Damion could blink, she punched a crater into the flat surface. Damion and towards her as she slumps on the ground in front of the hole in the wall. He places a hesitant hand on her shoulder, scared to upset her more.

“I knew it was coming.” She mumbled out, and while rubbing her face, she looked up at Damion, “I should have told you when you told me everything.” She then turns around to face him, grabbing his hands. “And for that, I'm so sorry for not telling you what my motivation is.” She whimpered, her voice and strong facade cracking. 

Damion wrapped his arms around her shaking form. And just like that, her walls fell, and rivers of tears began to silently stream down her face. She grabbed onto her son, having never felt like this before. Years after bottling up everything that happened to her, she finally reached her limit. Damion let her silently sob into his chest. He knew what it's like to have a painful history, but he knew it had to have been worse for her. 

Minutes passed, but it felt like hours. The tense atmosphere went from a whirlpool of emotions to a still sea. Damion grabbed her face to make her look at him.

“You don't have to tell me, Mamá.” He whispered, whining away her tears and snot, “You can show me if you want to.” He offered while pulling his wild hair back, revealing his cloudy eyes.

She looked up, still whipping her messy face, before nodding. He slowly leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers, trying to use his mind-melding abilities. Everything behind his eyelids went darker than usual.

He then opened his eyes to reveal some sort of doctor's office or lab room. He began walking around, touching the beakers and test tubes, until he reached a door. He opened it and came face-to-face with a long, dark hall lined with cages. He began to walk down them; each one had a series of numbers, but something in his gut told him to stop. 

 

He turned to his right and saw a shaking, small figure huddled in the corner. He crouched down to get a better look when the tiny body turned and revealed its familiar blood-red eyes and dim caramel aura.