HeReadzItAll
- Reads 5,193
- Votes 102
- Parts 10
Malakai Talon Wick was born into silence and shadows.
The only child of the man they called Baba Yaga-John Wick.
He didn't grow up with bedtime stories.
He grew up with scars that weren't his, guns buried in concrete, and a father who moved like a ghost.
His mother, Helen, was the only warmth in that cold world-her love the thread holding them all together.
At fifteen, Malakai entered the underworld.
Not as his father's apprentice-but as his equal.
They moved together through blood and fire, until even killers whispered his name:
The Wraith.
Not because of how he fought-but because no one ever saw him coming.
By nineteen, his legend stood beside his father's.
Then-they stopped.
John made a deal with the devil for peace. One final job. An impossible task.
Malakai followed him, not for peace-but for Helen.
They took the contract from Viggo Tarasov and carved a path to freedom.
Then they vanished.
Five years of silence. Five years of peace.
But Helen got sick.
No bullets. No blades. Just time-and time they couldn't kill.
She passed quietly.
John shattered.
Malakai didn't cry.
He stood still at her funeral, unmoving-his grief silent, bottomless.
The next day, two gifts arrived.
A dog for John.
And for Malakai: a black half Japanese Oni mask-his mother's final gift.
To the son she knew was always one breath away from becoming something monstrous.
Then came Iosef Tarasov.
Arrogant. Ignorant.
He broke into their home.
Stole the car. Killed the dog.
Helen's final gifts-destroyed.
And something ancient awakened.
They tried to bury who they were.
But now-the Baba Yaga walks again.
And beside him-The Wraith.
Silent. Lethal. Precision incarnate.
A son forged in blood, carrying the mask of death his mother gave him.
A father with nothing left to lose.
They are vengeance.
And the underworld will remember:
You don't steal from the dead.