Adam Roberts is my name, a charming middle-aged hottie born in eternally stunning New York City. I am blessed with a wonderful wife, a son, and two stunning daughters. All I have in this world are my wife Eve, my two children Aquamarine and Pearl, my son Jordan, and they are the love of my life.
Due to circumstances, my family and I am currently residing in Mexico. Here, I have a sizable food business worth millions of dollars, in addition to the money I earned from my old "work," which is also worth millions. Despite my wealth, I lead a peaceful and respectable life. A lot of folks aren't even aware that I'm rich.
I know it might seem like I have it all which is by the way true, it was not always like this. A few years down my picture-perfect life lies some dark truths. It was the darkest part of my life. I am about to tell you what many don't know about me. I can promise you it wont be a nice story about ferries and magic and that shit. There will be violence and some real gore that will make your faint heart cry blood.
Are you ready?
When I was still at nursery school I lived with both of my parents. They were not as rich as I am today but they where rich enough. We had nice cars and some servants to tend to our huge house and household chores.
I and my parents had a great relationship. During holidays we would go to amusement parks and have fun as a family. Dad sometimes would even invite my friends families to join us. Mom would read me bedtime stories every night without fail. She would personally take me to school every day with her car. They attended all my school events and where well known within the school committee.
My birthdays were always the best. Mom and Dad made sure to cancel all their important time-sensitive appointments to be present at my parties so there was never a day I felt unloved or neglected. However things started to fall apart after my eleventh birthday.
The mood in my house took a complete 180 turn. The small happy world that I had cherished completely shattered into bits and pieces. My parents started to argue about every single small thing. Even when a spoon fell it was a topic for a new argument. It was always like they were waiting for every opportunity to tear each other apart.
Even that was not the worst part. As time progressed their arguments went up a notch. Before they tried to hide their arguments from me and only fought behind closed doors. But they obviously did a poor job trying to hide it. But these days they didn't seem to care anymore, they fought openly like it was a normal thing to do.
They even started to forget about my school activities. Whenever I tried to speak to my mother she always seemed distant and I had to repeat my questions a few times to get a proper answer. As for dad he was rarely at home. When his phone rang he would jump like a cat and answer it immediately. His face would seem horrified and he would always leave with his car and get home late.
On the 3rd of April 2001, it was like any other usual day. Same old machine like routine, wake up, school time and sleep. Something was different this day, however. After school time I waited for about half an hour for my driver. He was usually never late before. He was a very punctual person. At times he would even scold me for my late coming.
This did get me a bit alarmed but of cause I let it slip. I took public transport back home. After all what could be so wrong? Maybe something got the guy busy somewhere. He is a busy guy after all. Between my mom and dad's constant travels, what could he do about it?
I did not Know what was waiting for me back home.
As soon as I got home, I knew in my bones that something was amiss. It was different from what it was, but I couldn't pinpoint exactly what. There were no sign of the servants that regularly move about. Even the security guard wasn't present, by the way. The air tasted strange as I got closer to the house's front door. There was a strong metallic odor that I could taste.
Sweat started to drip down my face. My skin crumbled up and my throat got dry all of sudden. With every foot step I took It was getting harder and harder to lift my feet. The smell also got more dense. I stood at the front door afraid of opening to see what was inside. I was afraid because of the strange mood at home. More importantly I was afraid because I recognized the metallic smell. It was the smell of blood.
I put my hand on the door handle and opened the door slowly while keeping both of my eyes closed. The air from house the blew across my face. The thick smell of blood made me drop to my knees in suffocation. I unconsciously open my eyes.
What I saw was a sight I never forgot to this day. Pools of blood stained the beautiful marble floor. Bodies piled like books on a shelf. Flies flew over them like they would at a dumping side. I covered my mouth with both of my hands and rivers of tears ran down my face. My mind went blank.
My body moved on its own. I ran around scanning every corner of the house but my parents were nowhere to be seen. There was one room I had not checked. Master bedroom. Earlier I was told to never enter the master bedroom without my parent's permission but in this situation...
As I took steps towards the bedroom it was getting harder and harder. It felt like the air was against me . Like my body was pulling me down. Like a thousand nails prickled me at the same time all over my body. I hated my self. I hated the world for putting me there that day.
I discovered two bodies as I opened the door. They were in a really poor condition. Their stomachs had been torn open. Their intestines exploded everywhere. The other organs were displayed in a showcase-like arrangement on the ground. I would have never recognized it was my parents if not for the fact that their heads had been severed and displayed on a dish for everyone to see
My heart drowned. My eyes were hallow and lifeless. That's when a tall man with tattoos on his face appeared from behind. I did not even hear him coming until he was already there. He stood in front of me and laughed while pointing at my parents dead bodies. I did not understand what he was saying as he was speaking a foreign language.
Yet I was certain. His jokes were directed at my parents. He must have committed the crime because his clothing were covered in blood. At the time, I could think of only one thing. He must perish.
I wanted to kill him and tear his guts but my body did not obey me. I was scared shit out of my wits. All of a sudden something hit me on the back of my head. A warm juice flowed down my back and then lights out.