CHAPTER 6: Shadows of the past

Marc was a master of disguise. He had made a name for himself in the world of assassins, and for good reason. He moved silently through the shadows, always searching for his next target. Tonight, he had a particularly important target in his sights: Lukas, a notorious terrorist who had destroyed Muslim memorials in Islamic countries and taken countless innocent lives. He was a man who struck fear into the world, and Marc was determined to put an end to him.

The location was perfect, the lighting dim and the atmosphere tense as Lukas disappeared into a dark alley between the dreary high-rise buildings. But suddenly, Marc sensed he wasn't alone. A noise behind him, a quick hiss, and before he could react, he was attacked. The attacker was fast, and in the darkness, it was difficult to follow his moves. Marc fought back, but the unknown man outpaced him and escaped into the night, police sirens blaring in the distance. Marc, angry and confused, could only watch as his target disappeared.

A few days later, he found himself in the same position again. Lukas was there again, unaware that he was once again in the crosshairs. Marc closed his eyes and took a deep breath, determined not to fail this time. As Lukas returned to the alley, Marc followed him, shadow behind shadow. Suddenly, the same attacker leaped at him again. But this time, Marc was prepared. He faced him, and a short, fierce struggle ensued.

Marc knew he had to gain the upper hand, and with a quick, well-aimed blow, he brought his attacker to the ground. The night had fallen silent as he captured him. Marc knelt over him and tied his hands together with rope. The attacker gasped, staring at him with panicked eyes.

"Why did you do this?" Marc asked, the anger barely contained in his voice. "Why did you attack me?"

The man closed his eyes for a moment and suddenly began to laugh, a crazy, psychotic laugh that echoed in the darkness. "Your parents paid me to kill you, you filthy piece of trash," he shouted, smiling.

Marc's heart skipped a beat. The words were like a drumbeat, shattering his thoughts. "My parents? Why?"

"They're afraid you've become them. They hate you more than anything," the attacker confessed. "They didn't want you to come back. You never did anything to hurt them, but that doesn't count for them. They can't forgive you for running away."

Marc felt anger and pain mingling within him. "I ran away when I was 17 because they beat and abused me, and now they want to kill me. Why?"

The attacker grinned. "Because they can. Because they don't know what to do with you anymore. You're a curse to them."

Marc felt anger rising within him as he considered the words. He remembered how he had often sneaked out of the house as soon as he realized they were drunk again, to escape the chaos. These skills, able to move quietly and unnoticed, had made him what he was now.

"You're arrogant," Marc said coldly, giving his attacker a threatening smile. "And I'll make you regret it."

He pulled the man up and led him into the darkness, into the shadows that had always surrounded him. Marc knew he had to make a decision, one that could change his life forever. He was an assassin, but also a son. And as he roamed the night to uncover his family's secret, he realized that the darkness harbored not only his enemies, but also the ghosts of his past.

The echo of the night rang in his ears as he finally muttered the phrase that summed up all his determination: "Next on the list are my parents."