Nothing Would Ever Be The Same
Tessa laughed, the sound bubbling out of her small chest, as she clapped her hands at the last flicker of candlelight. Her ninth birthday. Her golden hair caught the glow of the chandeliers, bouncing with every excited movement. She pressed her hands together and closed her eyes, silently wishing that this joy—the laughter, the music, the warmth—would never end.
She opened her eyes. Smiled. And blew out the candles.
Around her, the table glittered with little gifts wrapped in shiny paper. Her doll sat upright, perfectly dressed, watching her like a silent companion. The scent of chocolate cake mingled with roses from the vases lining the hall. The soft hum of music floated through the air, the voices of her friends and family carrying gentle laughter. Tessa pressed her tiny hands to her cheeks, wishing this moment could last forever.
But then…
The door burst open.
Men in black masks stormed in, weapons flashing in the candlelight. Crystal vases toppled, shattering with a deafening crash. Screams ripped across the marble floors, bouncing off the walls. Smoke, sharp and biting, stung her nose. Her stomach dropped as she clutched her doll, her tiny fingers tightening around its fabric.
Her parents shouted. Her father tried to push the men back, his voice breaking with desperation. A gunshot cut through the air, and he crumpled to the ground. Her mother lunged toward Tessa, but another shot rang out, cutting her down. Tessa froze, horror rooting her in place, tears burning her eyes.
The masked men fought the guards with precision, brutal efficiency. Tessa’s world had narrowed to the sound of shattering glass, gunfire, and her own rapid heartbeat. Every second stretched, each one filled with terror. The doll slipped from her hands, tumbling across the floor, forgotten.
Then they cleared the room. A path opened. And through it…he stepped.
Tall. Imposing. Handsome in a way that made the chaos fade behind him. Every movement deliberate, every step measured, like a demigod walking through a battlefield. His expression serious, unreadable, commanding. The click of his polished shoes echoed faintly over the crashing and screams.
Tessa sat huddled with her doll, blonde hair falling across her tear-streaked face. Her cheeks flushed, eyes wide with fear. She was frozen, unable to move, her small body trembling.
He stopped in front of her. Crouched down, slowly, deliberately.
His cold hands brushed her hair from her face. She flinched. A shiver ran down her spine as his fingers lingered, tracing her cheek. He studied her, and when he saw her trembling, he smiled.
“What's your name, baby girl?” His voice was deep, masculine, curling around her like ice.
“T-Theresa,” she whispered, barely audible, her lips quivering.
“Theresa…” He smiled wider, the kind of smile that both fascinated and terrified. “You’re coming with me.”
Before she could protest, before a second passed, he lifted her effortlessly from the floor. She was on his shoulder, pressed against him like a bag of rice. She couldn’t scream. Couldn’t cry. All she could do was stare at the lifeless bodies of her parents as tears streaked her face.
Outside, in the forest near her home, a helicopter waited. Its blades whipped the air into a frenzy, wind biting her cheeks. He carried her to it, and with a final, cold glance at the destruction behind them, they lifted into the night, the mansion shrinking below them.
Tessa’s chest tightened. She looked back once more, then forward. From this moment on... nothing would ever be the same again.
