|𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 named Persephone moon goes through a series of traumatic events at 13 runs away and becomes an assassin for the benefit of her son also to get away from the betrayal of her family. Along the way she meets a beautiful ma...
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|6 YEARS LATER|
-PERSEPHONE MOON- I sensed my son walk in but I didn't want to wake up. I had a heavy duty kill yesterday 12 men to be exact. All armed.
They ended up dead. As expected. I am shadow. So it's expected of me to get every kill I'm owed.
"Mommy get up. ITS TRAINING DAY FOR ME!" Abaddon said excitedly while patting my cheek lightly.
I open my eyes to see my pride and joy his red locks lazily laying around his head. And his beautiful grey eyes sparkling with happiness.
I'd never get sick of looking at my little me.
"Little bean I'm tired." I groaned sending him a fake glare. If he got the real one he might run.
"Please mommy. Get up. дедушка said he needs to speak with you!" he said tugging on my arm.
(Translation: grandpa)
I groaned and complied with him. I got down on one knee infront of him.
"I love you kid. Now go to the living room and wait for mommy." I said
He smiled nodded and ran away. A tear trailed down my face. Gosh. I'd never thought I'd be a mother. I love every bit of it.
I quickly wiped the tear away knowing if abaddon saw me he'd turn into the FBI real quick to know what happened.
I'm not ready to tell him. "Hey don stop growing it's making your mommy sad" he would cry because the only thing he would understand is that he was the cause of my sadness.
When it was the opposite. He was the cause of every bit of my happiness. Everyday I don't regret getting raped that night more and more simply Because I got a ball of happiness to compensate for my suffering.
I pulled myself from my thoughts and trudged to the restroom.
I looked in the mirror. I was 5'4 curvy due to childbirth and exercise. And my vibrant red hair was past my butt. I never thought to cut it. Eyes still grey. But they're dead except towards my little bean.
Most people call me cold hearted and devious. I call it ominous and calculated but hey. Call it what you want.
Nobody gets the treatment my baby boy gets.
I stepped out of my clothes and into the shower. The water cascaded down my arms that were littered with tattoos. My favorite is the first ever one I got.
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