Villains' Perfect Match

Chapter 1

There sat a little boy in a branch of a tree--the branch was not to thick nor too thin. Just average.

Like his life.... Not too dull nor too grand.

He had a father, who is a stern-looking man yet honest and a loving mother who is boundless in terms of benevolence.

He had a lovely childhood.....
Things turn out good......

Until his father, A lowly baron and their guardian had no choice and sold the poor little boy's mother to a high ranking aristocrat of the government.

For a child his age it was too sudden and he wasn't used being apart from his mother. Little did he know that he wasn't the only troubled one, but also he's father.

Time passes by, his father almost lost it.

Every time he could remember his wife he will rage all his anger and hatred to his own son, given that his son is the spitting-image of his wife.

"Those blue eyes, don't look at me with those eyes" The boy immediately closed his eyes as per his father's command. He was shaking--trembling in fear. Afraid what his father might do to him.

His father suddenly patted his head, "Good boy." he said.

He was dumbfounded for what his father said to him so he lifted his head to make sure he heard his father right.

When he lifted his head he was surprise to see his father smiling.

(Thats right..... he's smiling creepy right?)

For a moment, all was still and quiet and he felt a tiny flicker of hope but it was squished when his father's eyes slowly turned to a scowl.

"Didn't I told you not to look at me with those eyes?!" he yelled. Making the little boy stiffen and tremble again.

"To begin with, your eyes are the same as that whore!"
Without warning he grabbed the little boys neck and tried to strangle him. The little boy tried to struggle, but struggling only made things worse. Each time he would struggle his father tightens his grip causing the little boy to gasp for air.

"Your the same. Your the same as your fucking mother right from the start." he said.

"Had another man......" he muttered.

Coldly, without looking at his son, he reminisced the unforgettable moments with his beloved wife, in spite of his efforts to restrain himself, he burst into tears.

He shook his head and turn his gaze towards his son and lift him by the neck, until the boys feet could no longer touch the ground.

"How can I pity you? Yeah, that's right." he paused.

"Is there any proof that your even my child?!!" he yelled at the poor boy. The little one was coughing and waving his hands trying to break free from his father's tight grip.

His vision became blurry and before he knew it he already lost consciousness.

What was a house that was once filled with joyous laughter, was now filled with tears and painful groans?

.....

.....

.....

Beaten black and blue, filled with countless wounds--the little child's body has to endure every single one of them each night. Alone.

One morning, the door opened and there stood a lovely figure accompanied with rays of light--his beloved mother.

His mother was too shocked to say a word to see the boys poor condition, his legs full of bruises, hands full of wounds and a body as skinny as a twig. Nevertheless, she did not hesitate to come inside the house and hug his son.