Sean wiped his mother’s forehead. Sean was a good little boy like that. Taking care of a dying mother. When Sean turned eighteen, he took care of poor old mum. Dying in her death bed. Of course that’s what Sean saw, but that’s not what I see. I look through Sean’s eyes as his mother told him the magic words.
Kill them before they rise. The words washed over me, cleansing me. Cleansing me of Sean. This person wasn’t Sean’s mother. But in a cruel way, she was mine.
Sean was the fourth in line to receive forty-seven billion US dollars in a trust when his father Henry died. See, Henry was the world’s leading company’s CEO. Powerful bastard. I was born when Sean turned thirteen.
He was kidnapped, brainwashed, stripped of memories. They were trying to fracture his identity, give birth to a loyal freedom fighter. My ‘mother’ was part of an underground coalition not too pleased with Henry’s actions.
‘Mother’ looks at me with pity. Don’t deny what you’ve done, monster. This isn’t freedom fighting. I’m sorry Sean, I tried to keep you alive best I could. But I can feel you slipping through my fingers, from my mind.
KILL THEM BEFORE THEY RISE! The words compel me forward. Sean had siblings. I’m sorry Sean, she wants to inherit it all. No money for any of you.
Freedom fighter my ass. I’m a murderer, that’s what I am.