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Another life as a human with Ack's ability

Shine_Sati · Fantaisie
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13 Chs

Chapter 1.5: his parents passed away

Chapter- 1.5 His parent passed away

Training Arc

I was one month old when my parents died.

The same thoughts circle over in my mind but the pain never gets old. It happens so often that I feel like I've been living in the past for most of my present.

The only thing that keeps me sane in this moment is the that burns in me.

Every emotion and every memory that surfaces in my mind takes away little pieces of my compassion. My resolve falters and my humanity withers.

I guess I could stand to compare myself to those monsters in my way.

No matter how hard I try, I can never forget the feeling of complete terror that I had felt that day. The terror that still has me waking up in the middle of the night covered in sweat and tears.

Each blood-curding scream was etched into my mind leaving a psychological stain that had only one cure.

One that I have been searching for my entire life and today, especially today, I can't seem to keep the memories from flooding back.

Especially as I saw the black shadow figure of a man's scary face staring at me in the mirror.

They say the eyes are the window to the soul, a phrase that doesn't pertain to me in this slightly. My eyes have never held genuine emotion since that day, I doubt they ever will again.

We lived Japanese in a Kyoto town in a secluded house where the trees surrounding us and the rain were daily visitors.

I can still remember waking up to a lush green scenery surrounded by acres of evergreen.

Living a normal life doing normal day-to-day tasks and I struggled to remember how it felt but I believe I was happy.

I say we were normal, but I suppose to others we would be considered unique.

Despite my seemingly classic upbringing, I should mention that my father had been harbouring a big secret.

A secret that always gripped us in a certain level of danger.

My father was a glorified Ack Agent. But don't get it twisted. They were not the types of 'Agents' who searched for Acks because they hoped to find evidence to provide a legend they heard of in the veins of other beasts.

I will assure you that Acks are very real and they are not the glittering fantasy creatures from legends that most young boys from manga and anime make them out to be.

They are real and they are deadly.

Throughout history,ck attacks and mamassacresave have been recorded in olden books and journals.

In the modern day, these attacks have persisted but with the rise of the uniform government, a secret society of armed forces was created to ensure the safety of our population.

And my father, in particular, were not just any Ack agents, they were the most skilled hunters to ever train in the forces.

They have killed some of the deadliest Ack in history Nightmare Queen is one of them.

Having said this, being one of the greatest meant that every Ack in existence wanted you dead. I can't recount how many times my Athers and my uncle had been attacked throughout my childhood.

Though my father was always for any situation that was thrown at them our safety was ensured by the government that heavily guarded our gated territory.

We were protected.

We were supposed to be protected.

That night my father had taught my uncle how to use a katana for the first time. My uncle was a natural, being that my uncle had his blood coursing through his veins.

Afterwards, my uncle was sent off to bed with his sister she is my mother to my uncle.

I remember that my uncle told me that he heard the sound of a loud crash from the kitchen followed by a series of terrifying screams that to this day he couldn't seem to forget.

He threw aside his covers and ran to the source without any hesitation of the danger or death he could face.

The scene that my uncle remembers next will have forever been engraved into his memory.

My mother lying on the floor... Blood pooling from her throat-legs twisted in ways too grotesque to even utter out load. My uncle remembers his desperate cry and how hard his knees hit the ground next to her.

She was still conscious, still reaching for my uncle's face but the amount of blood she had lost left my uncle hysterical as he reached out to compress her wound.

She looked at my uncle with tears in her eyes. And gave my uncle the most painful look before she turned still.

Painful not because of the pain she was in, but because she mustered up a smile before leaving my uncle.

With her arms dropping to her sides she loosens grip on the ring she had in her left hand.

The clanging sound was the only thing pulling him away from the horrid silence that ensured, my uncle it in his hands only because he didn't know what else to do.

My uncle doesn't think he believes that anything that happened was reality.

So, my uncle was there for a while, closing teary eyes, telling himself that this was all a dream, and praying that my uncle could wake up from this nightmare.

At some father, his hands were bloodied as he dashed to the backdoor of our house. Crouching down eyes level kissing my uncle on the cheek he told me to run.

To run far, far away before closing the door behind him and shooting someone inside the house.

He slammed on the glass door and screamed "RUN! NOW!" and so my uncle ran.

My uncle turned up the speeds a few levels on the treadmill my uncle currently pulling his away from the horrid silence that ensued. He took it in my uncle's hands only because my uncle didn't know what else to do.

My uncle doesn't think he believed that anything that had happened was reality.

So, my uncle sat there for a while, closed his teary eyes, telling himself that this was all a dream, and praying that my uncle could wake up from this nightmare.

Some part of his wishes was that he had stayed with my father that night. Maybe then my whole wouldn't have to live with the pain of his cheat every time my uncle remembered his desperate voice.

His hazel eyes but my uncle decided to run until my uncle's legs began to burn and his face was covered in gashes because of the sharp branch I hadn't bothered to weave through.

The last thing my uncle remembered was the cold rain that dropped on the mossy floor, not to me.

And blackness many years have passed since then and my uncle is remembered as a survivor. But my uncle understood that tough girl died that day.