Written for the Writing Challenge Contest July at the Review Game.

"What do you want to be when you grow up, Son?" His father asked.

Dean, who was five years old at the time, had thoughtfully said to his father what he wanted to be when he grows up. His father had no clue what the child was thinking. Did he even know what he was saying? His father quietly thought to himself.

"Well… Don't you want to become an astronaut, or a firefighter like other kids?"

Dean playfully fingered his cheek while thinking. "I want to become someone like Uncle!"

His father sighed. Well, He pats his son's head. He'll grow up.


While sitting on the grass just outside the library, eighteen-year-old Dean was engrossed in a small, black book.


He made no move to answer the call…

…Until he was shoved on the back. If one could call that shoving…

"Oh! Sorry, what did you say?" Dean removes his glasses, and faces the petite girl.

Flustered, she pokes his shoulder. "Max's looking for you." Dean nods as he lies on his back.

"Hey! Listen to other people while they're talking!" Her cheeks turn into a pinkish hue, to which Dean replies with a bright laugh.

"Don't worry! He'll come in any second now. I can, without doubt, promise you that." Dean beams at her.

"Whatever. You-"

"Deeeaaaaan!" A tall, energetic boy comes running toward them. He is carrying a bunch of papers on his arms. "Dean! I've been looking all over for you! "

"What did I tell you?" Dean says and winks at the girl. "Max, I really appreciate everything." Max hands him the papers.

Max grins. "It's alright, dude! No need to be so formal, y'know? We've known each other for ages, and you're like the brother I never had!"

Meanwhile, a car pulls up a few feet away from them.

"Oh… Look guys, I gotta go. Thanks again Max!"

He walks into a spacious office and finds a man standing with his back toward him.

"Dad, I hope you can understand. This is what I decided. This is what I decided since a long time ago." Dean starts.

"Not this again. Not now. The company is currently-"

"I'm sorry, Dad. But nothing can change my mind now." Dean politely says while attempting to clean up the coffee his father threw to his feet about a second ago. "I know we've talked about this a hundred times already… And I know you're sick of it as much as I am…"

"So stop it!" His father slammed his hand on the desk.

"I'm not stopping." He stands up. "I can't stop."

"You're mother wouldn't have approved of this as well." His father moves closer to him.

Expecting another blow from his father, he braces himself, and is immediately thankful for doing so.

In a large courtyard, located outside a church, a little boy waits while snow falls endlessly from the sky.

"He's late again." The boy mutters.

A tall, burly man approaches the boy, and wraps around him his scarf.

"Dad said he went off to exterminate the ones who killed Mom."

The tall man in a dark cloak simply nodded.

"I don't understand."

Gunshots echoed through the place.


The little boy was found the next morning, next to his uncle's dead body, covered in blood.

A priest slowly steps out the church, and into the cemetery. He continues to walk until he reaches a certain gravestone. Setting down flowers, he whispers:

"Our promise. I did it."


Messy, I know. Well, that's to be expected since it's a long time since I actually wrote anything properly... If this can be considered proper. Hope it wasn't too confusing... And... Yeah. Thanks for reading.