A/N: Read the Info first. 

He ran until he couldn't anymore. He didn't remember where he was. He was terrified of what was waiting for him back home. He was doubtful he could even name it his home. He was anticipating him back home. He was only 6-years-old when they informed him that she departed. He wasn't going to return home to see that monster. He was determined to run from the Shadow. The little boy felt the drops of water scattered onto his face. He could see his silhouette walking in his direction. He was searching for him and determined to find him. He dropped inside the puddle of water and gasped when he saw the glass shard impaling his skin. He bit down the whimper and picked himself up. He had to keep running from the Shadow.

Mother warned him to stay away from the shadows. "Stay away from the shadows," she continued, "They'll kill you without any remorse." The boy wondered where he was going. He didn't recognize these streets. People were eying him with concern, "Do you see that boy?" He stared at his palms to see the blood dripping from his hands. He pushed through the growing crowd, eager to escape from the Shadow.  He ignored the shard of glass, impaling his palm.

His blood went cold when he heard sharp footsteps. He wasn't going to let him go. He turned the corner and hid among the boxes of the vacant alleyway. He feared the shadows lurking among the night, 'I can't stop now! I have to run before he finds me.' He tried to make his appearance seem smaller when he heard the heavy footsteps.

"Where the hell are you, boy?" He covered his mouth to hide his heavy breathing. He had to restrain himself before he finds him. He wasn't going to let that bastard succeed. The man regarded the traces of blood drenching the concrete floor. He saw the man approaching him, "Too late, little one-" He pulled the bag clean off and grasped his neck. The man traced his hands onto the shard of glass. The man was on his knees when the boy watched him fall. "Paint the floors with your blood." He dug the glass into the man's neck before yanking it out. "Monster," the man choked out. "You're just like your father," the man laughed when the boy kicked him down. He looked at his hands to see the fresh layer of blood lacing his hands. It took him a moment to realize his mistake and felt the hand grabbed his bloody wrist. "Look at the mess you made, son." 

His fear overcame him, "You're becoming just like me." The man's manacing smile haunted him, "Now that your mother is gone, you can join the family business." He shook his head, "I'll never be like you." His grin grew and howled in laughter as the boy struggled against his grip. "Who said you had a choice." The boy screamed in horror when his father slammed his head against the cold concrete floor.

"Get the hell up," his father slammed his leg into the boy's stomach. "No one wants a pathetic, useless boy!" His father grasped his hair and dragged him down the hallway, "NO, PLEASE STOP!" No matter how many times the boy pleaded, his father pay very little of his rants. This boy was going to become a killer like himself. 

The boy stared at the white walls that screamed at him, "SHUT UP!" His father isolated him from the others and kept him busy with training. When he turned 12, the boring white walls' screams became normal. He was numb with feeling when he slit her throat open. He returned home to see his father throwing his tantrum.

'One of the most feared leaders is throwing a tantrum. I could kill him, but I would become the killer he wants me to be. I won't let him know that his successor will betray him.' The boy lost his sense of identity when his father locked him up. He wondered why he's still here. He had the chance to run away from this. He could escape, but his father would track him down.

During dinner, the boy ignored his father's ambitions about the organization. "I have a surprise for you," the boy quirked an eyebrow at his father. The boy followed carelessly into his room to see a lady tied onto the chair. "Her name is Mitsuki Bakugou," he yanked the brown bag off her face.

The boy's eyes widened, yet he caved into his stoic expression. "What would you like me to do, father?" The man was surprised that his son was accepting the role. His grin grew, "I want you to kill her when she wakes up." His father walked out of the room and returned with a gun and mask. The boy took the silencer from his father, "What is with the mask?" His father smirked, "A killer can't reveal their identities unless they want to die." He unclicked the back of the mask and put it on his son.

He turned back to see the lady wake up, "Wait, let me go!" The boy counted to 3 while smiling under the mask. "One, Two, Three." The silencer was barely audible when he pulled the trigger. Her lifeless body slumped against the wooden chair. "Good work son." His father glanced to see his son's sinister smile. "Son put the gun down!" The boy shot his father in the leg, "You're not my father." He turned his back to the man and walked away from him.

"You fucking, child! You better come back. I own you." The boy laughed. "YOU DON'T OWN ME ANYMORE!" The boy shot his father right in the eye and watched him drop the ground.

"Mama told me to watch out for the shadows. I will choose who I will be." Every step he took got heavier when he heard his father's words. "GOOD JOB, SON. YOU'LL BE THE SAME KILLER I WAS. YOU'LL BECOME THE KILLER THAT LURKS IN THE SHADOWS, WAITING TO STRIKE. YOU'LL SOON LEARN THAT YOU WON'T FEAR ANYONE EXCEPT YOURSELF!"

The boy wished that he didn't believe every word he said. He wanted it all to be a lie, but the world didn't work that way. He will soon learn that there's no way to escape the darkness.