Misha found himself in a bright white lab decorated with transparent glass. He remembered walking into the dark study as the whistling sound pierced his eardrum. He slipped and fell into a secret compartment that was emitting faint light.
He pulled his blue fur hoody tighter, teeth chattering as cold cut through his skin. He walked with steady steps as he once again curiously looked at every transparent manual, analyzing and recording formulas and codes.
'Papa will definitely kill me today,' He thought absentmindedly. 'I'm officially a dead meat.
With deeper thoughts, he continued forward. Searching for the whistling sound.
He figured he was now standing in the middle of a very long hallway.
He felt tired.
'Should I go back?
Misha knew very well what the man he lives with is capable of. He was pretty sure he would regret disobeying the rules, climbing the forbidden east wing, and coming down here.
"What are you doing here?
A rigid tone, yet soft, filled the hallway.
It sounds like a child. A very young child.
Misha was puzzled and a bit panicked. He could only hear the voice but not the owner. He also noticed that the whistling sound had ceased.
"My name is Misha, and I'm sorry for intruding,' Misha felt watched…like a prey.
He trembled as he pulled his hoodie tighter around him for comfort.
He has decided. He is leaving this place. His curiosity will be the death of him one day.
Misha didn't know how his true thoughts would affect his future.
Currently, he is looking for the exit. If he had known this kind of thing would happen, he wouldn't have come down here.
"So, you are the bundle of trash Dad keeps around the house.
Misha almost felt his heart stop. Right before him was a young child of six. It is almost like he was standing before his papa, but in his mini version. The child wore a white lab coat his size, a pair of blue gloves in one hand, and a pair of transparent glass goggles hanging down his neck.
Misha felt weak beyond words.
'So, this was the heir Papa was talking about.
After a quiet observation, Misha knew this boy was probably a prodigy. Maybe he is more than that.
'This was the boy who is going to replace me?
Misha just couldn't believe it. He felt so many emotions swirling around his heart and mind. But one stood out the most.
He was jealous. So damn envious. For the first time in his life, he wished he were something to be proud of.
Looking closely, the boy was more beautiful. Misha was already feeling wretched and downcast. The child resembled Bram in all aspects. Except his pale skin was like snow. His eyes were vibrant silver, that has the same judgmental and degrading look as Bram's.
"Very absentminded boy, are you?'
"I-I I'm not absentminded,' Misha blushed in embarrassment. The boy scoffed, his hands in his pockets.
"You know very well you are not allowed in the study, let alone in here?
Misha blinked. "I very well know that. But I can't help it.
The boy raised an eyebrow. "Your IQ is too low to follow such simple instructions.
Misha frowned. He didn't like the way this little devil was speaking to him. But he decided to let it pass. Papa had called him things way worse than this. This was nothing; he could handle this.
Choosing to ignore the boy's comment, he proceeds to do what anyone would have done in this situation.
"What's your name?'
Asier gave him a very cold look. "You are not worthy to know my name. You have a second to leave this place before I call security.
Misha panicked. He just wanted to get to know the child after his papa's heart. The boy was being arrogant and unfeeling.
"W-wait, you can't throw me out just like that,' Misha trembled as he moved forward to grab the little boy.
But before he could, Misha saw a flash of steel swipes in front of him.
'He was born with the tattoo ability?' And a dangerous weapon to boot.
Asier swung his gigantic sword made of pure ice towards Misha, who had a pure, terrified look on his face.
"Don't ever try laying your filthy hands on me,' Asier sneered in disgust. He was repulsed by Misha since their encounter. Now the trash wanted to disrespectfully grab him.
He could see the fear and helplessness in Misha's eyes. Sometimes he wondered why Bram didn't dispose of this pathetic waste of space.
"I'm sorry,' Misha managed to choke out. This was not what he expected. The little thought of getting to know the little boy vanished, replaced with the feeling of fear and abandonment.
However, Asier turned away as if one more time with the fool would trigger his killing intent.
Misha scrambled to his feet. He staggered towards the direction he came in, his heart almost pounding out of his chest. He made it to the stairs he had fallen from earlier. He climbed with so much pain radiating within him. He wanted comfort. He needed someone beside him to hold him and tell him that everything would be alright.
Hot tears slid down his cheeks. Before he knew it, he was sobbing painfully as he appeared in the study. He clutched his hoodie to his chest. It was dark everywhere and silent. But his cries were loud. Too loud.
But Misha wasn't aware. If he had, he would have thought about what he would answer the man waiting outside the study.
The whistling sound had resumed. This made Misha pause. He looked back down the compartment under the study; hot tears heavily poured down his cheeks. He ignored the sound and made it to the door.
With a creak, the huge door opened. Misha, as slow as he was, didn't see his papa watching him with unknown eyes. The boy was too absurd in his self-depreciation to notice anything.
Bram watched as his son sluggishly walked out, with red eyes and a bit of snot in his nose. His black curls were matted against his forehead with sweat, and his clothes were rumpled.
'He must have met Asier,' Bram guessed with a tilt of his head. He wasn't angry, nor was he happy about Misha disobeying his orders. The boy already looked like he was going to commit suicide after this.
"Was it fun?' Bram questioned with a dead tone. He watched as Misha suddenly flinched. The boy started to back away with pure dread in his eyes. But as usual, he was clumsy and stumbled on the floor.
Bram patiently watched as the boy curled his knees to his chest for protection. He began to weep bitterly.
"P-papa?' Misha helplessly called as he sniveled.
Bram wasn't one to cause physical harm to a child; however, he detests weakness and dependence. When Misha proved to be a useless product, his interest was pushed to Asier. He wanted a child like himself, and so far, Asier has proven himself more capable than he expected.
"I-I…I have no excuse for what I did,' Misha trembled as he quietly stood up. His papa is not one to shout at him. He executes his punishments with silence and action, and that is what he fears about his papa. His punishments were brutal, ruthless, and beyond normal.
Bram gave him a once-over. "Go to your room and reflect. You should know better than to disobey my orders.
Misha was shocked at this development. Normally, his papa would harshly send him to the dark, cold box. He would be there for weeks. Sometimes he would be allowed to talk to the servants at that time. And sometimes it drives him crazy to be contained in such a tiny, cold black box.
He was dazed for a moment but snapped out of it when he noticed the glares his papa was throwing at him.
With a dash, he disappeared down the stairs and out of sight.
Bram chuckled in mockery. His light pupils gleamed with hidden motives.