The Blackwell Brothers

Chapter 4:Adrien Blackwell POV

"Guosi hsirbkeo," she whispered, her hand weaving a mystical pattern in the air. I echoed her words, and the ancient tome before us began to levitate. Her face lit up with a radiant smile as she turned to me. Kneeling beside me, she cradled my cheeks in her gentle hands. "You did wonderfully, my baby. Mama is beaming with pride," she cooed, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead.

I blushed, pushing her away slightly with a shy grin. "Mama, please don't call me that. I'm a big boy now," I protested, my brow furrowed in mock seriousness. Her laughter was a rich, melodious sound that swelled my heart with joy.

"Forgive me, my dear," she said, her expression turning solemn. "Mama promises to address you by your name from now on." But I was adamant.

"No, Mama, please call me your baby. Never call me anything else," I pleaded, and she swept me into a warm embrace. I wrapped my arms around her, inhaling the sweet scent of fresh fruit and baked cookies that clung to her. As she pulled back, her eyes sparkled with affection.

"We need to practice more. You still have a great deal to learn," she said, picking up the black book from the floor and beginning to open it. But I was exhausted. "No, Mama, we've been practicing all day. It's already bedtime, and I'm worn out. I want to sleep, and I'd love a bedtime story," I said, and she bent down to my level once more.

"You're right, you need rest. We'll continue tomorrow," she said, carrying me in her arms and taking me to my room. She gently laid me on the bed and covered me with a duvet. From the drawer, she pulled out my favorite book, "The Beauty and the Beast." She read the story to me, and when she finished, she closed the book. But I couldn't help but wonder why the girl fell for the beast despite his cruel treatment of her.

"Mama, why did she like the beast?" I asked, and my mom smiled. "Because she has a kind heart," she said, stroking my hair and smiling. "Just like you."

"How do you know, Mama?" I asked, and she smiled. "Because I'm your mother, sweetie. You're a special child with unique gifts," she said, looking proud.

But I remained puzzled. "Why, Mama? What makes me special?" I yawned, and she smiled.

"Enough questions for tonight, little one. Get some sleep. We have a big day of training in the forest tomorrow, and you need to be well-rested," she said, kissing my forehead. "Good night, baby," she whispered, turning off the light. I heard the door close, and I drifted off to sleep.

My slumber was shattered by a blood-curdling scream, and my eyes snapped open. The scream pierced the air again, sending a wave of panic coursing through my veins. The sound was unmistakable - it was Mama. I rushed out of my room, desperate to locate the source of the scream, and what I saw made my blood run cold. My mother was bound to a chair, her skin being mercilessly pierced by a knife wielded by my father. The gruesome sight filled me with terror, and my twin brother, Scott, was seated on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. He flung himself into my arms, clinging to me tightly. "Make it stop, Adrien, please," he begged, his voice trembling with fear. "Make it stop," he sobbed, and I comfortingly patted his back.

I was baffled by the scene unfolding before me. Why was Papa hurting Mama? I gently extricated myself from Scott's grasp and rushed to my father's side. Mama's eyes were closed, her body covered in blood, and tears streamed down my face. "Why are you hurting Mama?" I cried out, my voice shaking with fear.

Mama's eyes flickered open at the sound of my voice. "Adrien, get away from here!" she yelled, but I couldn't abandon her. "Sit down and watch, child," Papa sneered, plunging the knife deeper into Mama's chest. Blood gushed out, and Mama's gaze locked onto mine, a faint smile on her lips. "You're a special child, baby," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Always remember that. I'll always love you. Never stop practicing." With those final words, her eyes closed, and her head slumped to the side. Fear gripped my heart, and I rushed to her side, overwhelmed by grief.

"Mama, Mama, please wake up!" I screamed, shaking her lifeless body, but she didn't respond. The unbearable truth dawned on me: she was dead, and Papa was the one who had taken her life. Scorching tears streamed down my cheeks as I wept uncontrollably, my face buried in her blood-soaked chest.

Papa's voice cut through my grief, his words dripping with malice. "Stop that, child! You're acting weak!" But I ignored him, my mind consumed by a singular thought: he killed Mama.

I lifted my head, my eyes blazing with anger. "You killed Mama!" I yelled, my voice trembling with rage. Papa's response sent shivers down my spine. "And that will remain between you and me, son. Nobody will ever find out about this, understood?"

But I refused to back down. "No, Papa! You killed Mama, and you'll pay for it! I'll tell everyone!" I shouted, my determination fueled by my desire for justice.

Papa's hand struck my face, sending me crashing to the ground. "Shut up, you worthless child! You're not telling anyone, and besides, you're just a ten-year-old boy. Nobody will believe you," he sneered.

I scrambled to my feet, my heart pounding with defiance. "You're wrong, Papa! Everyone will believe me! I have Scott!" I exclaimed, turning to my twin brother.

But to my horror, Scott's eyes welled up with tears, and he ran towards Papa, embracing him tightly. I stood frozen in shock, unable to comprehend how my brother could hug the monster who had killed our mother.

"I told you, child, you're utterly alone. Nobody will believe you," Papa sneered, his voice dripping with malice. He cradled Scott in his arms, and my heart shattered into a million pieces. How could my brother allow this monster to touch him after what he had done to Mama? But I knew I had to summon every ounce of strength within me. I didn't need anyone's help. I would seek justice for Mama, no matter the cost.

"I'll expose you, I'll tell everyone, and you'll pay with your life," I vowed, attempting to flee the room. But Papa's speed was lightning-quick, and he restrained me. He pierced a needle-like object into my skin, and my eyelids grew heavy. As I succumbed to sleep, my mind seethed with thoughts of revenge.

When I awoke, I found myself in a dark, silent room. "Mama," I called out, my voice echoing off the walls. The harsh reality hit me like a tidal wave: Mama was gone, and she would never return. I had to be strong, not just for myself, but for her as well. She wouldn't want me to cry. She wouldn't want her baby to be consumed by grief.

I woke up drenched in sweat, my mind still reeling with thoughts of revenge. The pain of losing Mama was still raw, and Atlas would pay dearly for his heinous crimes. He would pay for locking me in this dark, forsaken room without food for days. He would pay for every agonized scream that tore from Mama's lips. He would pay for every tear that streamed down her face. And he would pay with his life.