Fifteen: The Sleepwalker

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When we were nearly two-hundred forty-three (seven), my brother Aleksander made his first kill

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When we were nearly two-hundred forty-three (seven), my brother Aleksander made his first kill.

I remember it clearly, my father locked the two of us in the dungeons of Muspelheim refusing to let us out until at least two other inhabitants of the dungeons were dead.

My brother had no issue with it, my father had barely even locked the doors before Aleksander was pulling an innocent woman's eyes out. I can still smell the blood, hear the woman's pleas as she screamed for her life.

Alexander didn't care, he pulled her eyeballs straight out of her sockets then embedded a dagger right in her kidney. He smiled as she slowly bled to death.

At the time, I was huddled in the corner of the dungeons focused solely on one thing.

'Don't cry.'

Crying was not tolerated in the walls of this castle, crying was fear and fear weakness. Weakness was absolute without a doubt unacceptable. If there was one thing my father taught my brother and me, it was that weakness was never allowed.

Above all else, alike to any other royal of the nine realms, the King would not have weak children. His children were to be nothing less of strong, fearless in their wake.

Unfortunately, I was one of those children, Surtur refused to allow my brother and me to be weak. Perhaps that was why he made us kill so young, so we would never be weak.

I remember after the woman my brother killed died, Aleksander turning to me. My little self clutched onto the dagger my father expected me to kill a person with so tightly my hands changed to white.

Aleksander was annoyed I had yet to kill someone, apparently, he had better things to do than to watch me throw a pity party. He pushed me toward a man who whimpered as I approached him.

Who would have thought a grown man capable of flinching away from a little girl?

Sniffles erupted from me as I desperately tried not to cry.

"Remember: you are not afraid." My brother had told me, watching me with a psychotic but excited smile.

I remember repeating that phrase in my mind, refusing to let the tears fall as I took that man's life. After he was dead, father didn't keep us in there any longer and expressed how proud he was of both of us. At the time, I didn't realize this was where my father would begin turning both my brother and I into some of the most feared beings across the universe.

We would soon be known as the ripper twins, the ones who showed no mercy to the enemies of Muspelheim. My father would train us into the perfect weapons against the long-standing Asgard, together the three of us were destined to cause Ragnorök, the fall of Asgard.

In the beginning, there were two long-standing empires, Asgard and Gallifrey.

The fall of Gallifrey already happened. Asgard was meant to meet the same fate, and my family was the destined cause.

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