the broken road to redemption

My name is Marcos, once a professional assassin, bound by the darkness that consumed my existence. The company I worked for thrived on the blood I spilled, gaining millions from the lives I took. I became a tool, living for nothing but killing, trapped in a cycle of self-loathing, unable to break free for fear of abandonment.

One fateful day, I found myself standing outside the principal's office, filled with resentment towards the man who had shaped me into a monster. His back turned to me as he gazed out the window, I couldn't help but despise him. He was among the most vile individuals, capable of murder without remorse. I realized with a heavy heart that I had become just like him.

Slowly, he turned to face me, acknowledging my presence. "Thank you for being here," he said, acknowledging the success of my last mission, the most challenging one yet. His hands rummaged through piles of papers on his desk as he continued, "You eliminated 200 men singlehandedly with just a rifle. How did you manage it?"

"I suppose luck was on my side," I replied, deflecting the question, as I often did.

He chuckled, aware of my evasion. "Last night, I had a dream about you. I remembered the young, dirty and repulsive boy I took from his mother. And now, look at you, with all these muscles. How old are you, Marcos?"

"I'm 20, sir," I replied, my voice laced with bitterness.

"You're only 20, and already known as the strongest. I have never seen someone with your level of talent," he remarked, acknowledging my prowess.

"Do you know what they call you now?" he asked, a sinister gleam in his eyes.

I remained silent, refusing to dignify his question with a response.

"The Silent Killer," he said, relishing the fear my name invoked. "They believe you're a towering figure who devours your victims, as no one ever finds those you've killed."

"Please, tell me the mission before it's too late," I implored, growing impatient.

He sighed, placing a sheet of paper on the table, containing all the details of my next target. "Your objective is Olivier Farwell, a prominent politician. He's been searching for us and has stumbled upon dangerous information. Kill him before he has a chance to speak."

"Failing is not an option," he emphasized, his words echoing in my mind.

With the mission details in hand, I embarked on my journey to the mansion where Farwell resided. The fortress-like residence stood no chance against my skills. Swiftly, I dispatched his guards, one by one, until I reached his bedroom. In a swift motion, I eliminated him, leaving no trace of my presence.

On my way back to the hotel, a sudden impact jolted me as a vehicle collided with my car. Stepping out to assess the situation, another gunshot pierced the air, abruptly ending my life.

In the void that followed, darkness enveloped me, accompanied by the sound of cascading water. A voice emerged, overwhelming and crushing my soul. Its deep timbre made understanding its words impossible, except for one phrase that reverberated within me: "I found the right person."

As my soul was violently torn from my body, agony consumed me. It felt like an eternity in the abyss, with nothing but the eerie sound of rushing water. The pain was excruciating, as if my very being was being dismantled. The darkness held me captive, and I feared I would be lost forever.

And then, a baby's cry shattered the darkness. Opening my eyes, I found myself gazing into the concerned eyes