Cerberus Novel – My parents have always abused me since I was three years old. Now I am eight years old and it is still the same. But I became better, smarter. I am a genius, I know everything, and I can survive. That tomorrow on my 8th birthday, I would run away and never look back. Several months later, I got a tracking the request from the Russian mafia to find someone who kidnapped a baby girl 7 1/2 years ago. After a while, I got some clues. I looked at my computer and saw my so called ‘parents’ staring right back at me. The people that tortured and abused me from day one smiling in their wedding photo only to be psychotic maniacs to a toddler when they get home. Why would the Russian mafia want me to look for a kidnapped girl? Am I the kidnapped child? Who the heck am I?
After 3 hours pass of me cleaning, doing laundry, and preparing food for dinner, I finally have some time to read. I walk into my dads study and pick out a book on advanced chemical reactions and bonding that looks to be around 400 pages long. I started reading books out of my dad’s library when I was around 3 years old which is also a year after my parents started abusing me. I don’t know why they started or what caused them to hate me so much but as an 7 year old there isn’t much that I can do about it. I’ve read almost all the books in the study and have reread some of my favorites that were on computer programing and wilderness survival. I walk into the main room and sit on the couch reading my new found book and letting my sore muscles relax. I thought to myself that it’s 6 o’clock and I should go prepare dinner.
After 2 hours I can hear their drunken slurs and heavy footsteps approach the basement door and I run to the Corner trying to push myself into the bricks as I brace myself for the inferno I’m about to endure. “Hey you little bimbo where are you?” my dad drunkenly calls out to me as he stumbles down the stairs. “Come out, Come out, Wherever you are” mom says looking around the room until our eyes meet. “found yah” I look up in horror as my dad turns and walks towards me. He grabs my arm and drags me to the middle of the room as I kick and squirm. I don’t make any noise or beg them as they tie me to the chains hanging from the ceiling that leave my legs dangling below me. I know that me begging and crying will only push them further and I’m not going to give these to psychopaths what they want.
My dad finishes chaining me up and walks back upstairs to get some ‘tools’ I can only assume are going to hurt more on top of my pre-existing injuries. “Tomorrow is your birthday right? Well we might as well give you a present to wake up to.” My so called mother coos close to my ear as she leans back and punches me in the stomach. My dad walks back down the stairs with some glass beer bottles, a belt, and some salt. I silently let a tear drop from my eye as I watch my dad hand a bottle to my mom and approach me with his belt. “Tonight is special you little bimbo and I’m going to make sure you remember it” with that my dad winds up his arm and whips the belt against my back earning a whimper from me. My mom breaks the bottle on the floor and digs one of the jagged edges into my exposed rib cage causing me to let out a blood curdling scream.
Whip after Whip followed by cuts and and a barrage of punched and kicks leave my cheeks tear stained and the rest of my body covered in blood. “AHHHH” I scream as a searing pain covers my back and I realize they just poured the salt all over their handy work. With that they seem satisfied and unhook me, letting me fall to the floor and lay curled up in my tattered and blood soaked clothes. I couldn’t fall asleep but I did manage to crawl my way over to the pile of ripped up rags that I call my bed hoping that it would provide some warmth to my freezing body. I laid awake in pain thinking about why I’m here. Just then I made a promise to myself, that tomorrow on my 8th birthday, I would run away and never look back. I starred up at the ceiling planning my escape for tomorrow and the thoughts of freedom led me slowly into the darkness.
Two weeks later, I had rented an apartment, getting a dog called Hades and a little boy called Blake as my family. And I had two friends- Emily and Charlie. I started renting my apartment and I am starting to make real money from doing the accounting for different underground groups and I have also been building firewalls and programing my computer to work and 15x its original capacity. On some of the off time that I have I research about different topics such as schooling and fighting. I have hacked into the nearby bank and created a bank account for myself so that I could deposit and keep my money safe without ever having to meet people in real life. I have also learned that I am far above average intelligence even for people in college I am able to run circles around famously solved math problems. I have been able to create a backstory and a paper trail for my fake name.
I have gotten a social security number, birth certificate, and all the other documents needed to make my fake self real. Everything is generally easier when I can just hack into something and create documents that prove legally that I am a person. My fake name is Athena Hugo and I am 22 years old and my birthday is September 26, 1996. I am an orphaned only child that grew up in a group home in Detroit. I liked the name because Athena is Greek mythology like Hades and the last name Hugo is the name of the only movie I have seen. I watched it on my computer a few days ago while I was exploring different websites. Being 22 means I am a legal adult and allows me to do most things like drink and rent apartments. Now I was content with my new life.
Viktor It has been 7 1/2 years since our princess was stolen from us, 7 1/2 years of looking and wondering if my only daughter was alive or hurt. When Anastasia was taken her mother and my wife, Alice couldn’t handle the loss. We waited over 10 years of having kids trying to have a baby girl that we could protect and that my wife could bond with. We both loved our sons but a baby girl is all we could hope for after having 5 sons. My wife wanted a little girl that she could talk to about weddings and dresses, but that was all taken when we lost Anastasia. After 4 years of looking my wife died suddenly in a car accident, I had to get myself together in order to take care of my 5 sons who needed a father as they dealt with the loss of their mother and sister. I still haven’t given up looking but the only lead we have ever had was a last name and a photo including only one half of the face of the person who stole our daughter.
The picture in off of one of the security cameras he must have missed when escaping with my daughter and it caught half of his face. We were only able to track down the last name, ‘Lewis’ at the time when the crime originally took place, but since then we have had no leads. Through some of my friends in the Italian mafia I have heard around about a specialist who can find anyone. Getting in-touch with this so called specialist sounds like a hoax but I will try anything if it means I can have my little girl back. The way to get in-touch with this specialist is to commission them through the dark web and see if they accept it or not. So even going all the way to get in-touch with them there is still a chance they won’t even look at what you want them to do. I had my main hacker put out the commission earlier this morning and now we wait to see if they take it. Anastasia At night, I have just spent the last 2 hours editing and making sure everything with TRI is going well.
That is a company which was found by Emily, Charlie and I. I’m happy to say I posted the adds and website 4 hours ago and we already have 25 sales. It is now 1:30 am and I am just now starting my commissioned assignments. Scrolling through the commissions I have already agreed to all of the 6 accounting jobs, and I am now taking a closer look at the THEIA tracking cases. The tracking cases are always more tricky because I don’t want to have a part to play in some sort of sick psycho murdering thing if I don’t need to. I have agreed to 2 tracking commissions and the 3rd has caught my interest, it’s a commission to find someone who kidknapped a baby girl 7 1/2 years ago. Tracking the request back to its original sender leads me to believe it was sent from the Russian mafia. I have worked with them before on their accounting and they seemed trustworthy enough, I didn’t detect any suspicious coding within the commission, and it pays really good money so why not.
A white male in his late 20’s – early 30’s partial facial picture and the last name ‘Lewis’. I type the information into THEIA and sit back waiting for a hit, one of the newer upgrades to my THEIA program is that it can also search archived files and old traffic, security, and posts as long as they are still backed up to a main drive connected to an internet or satellite connection. While I wait for a hit of my THEIA program I start to knock out the other 6 accounting jobs that I need to do. After 4 hours of nonstop work I am finally done with my accounting commissions and sending my results. While I am about to make myself some toast my THEIA program gives off an alert that it has a lead, I rush over to my computer and look at the results. “Carson Lewis married to Meredith Lewis, age: 38, address: 2379 River Lane Sparr Michigan 49735” I breath out as a whisper as I stare at the picture of the married couple on my computer. “No. no.no.no.no. NO!” I scream sitting onto the floor as I slowly shake and rock myself to calm down. Hades comes over and slowly nudges me with his nose, trying to push me out of my emotional episode. I can hear Blake crying from the other room, I probably woke him up when I yelled. I slowly stand and go into my bedroom and grab Blake taking him back to the couch with me.
He goes back off to sleep after realizing I’m holding him and I listen to his soft breathing to calm myself down as well. I look back at my computer and see my so called ‘parents’ staring right back at me. The people that tortured and abused me from day one smiling in their wedding photo only to be psychotic maniacs to a toddler when they get home. They don’t have any other children so when did this kidnapped child come home, I would have noticed if another kid was there right? I think I already know the answer to the question that I keep asking myself. What if they aren’t my parents? Why would they torture and abuse me? Why? Is all I can think to myself, I’m trying to put the puzzle pieces together that are circling through me head. One, why would the Russian mafia want me to look for a kidnapped girl? Two, assuming that I wasn’t their daughter than who did they take me from? And Three, who the heck am I?