2024-12-12 15:48:39
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Chapter 1: The Night the World Shattered
The air was crisp and cold, the sky covered by dark clouds that pulsed like veins. Lightning forked without sound, and the cold heavy rain poured without mercy. “Mom! Dad! Eliana! Lisa! No, please, don’t leave me” Damian yelled, kneeling under the rain, the headless-body of his mother clenched tightly to his arms. Damian was soaked by the rain and in blood, crying in agony, cold, shaking, alone. “Why? Why did you do this? What did we ever do to you?” His voice echoing into the open, as he screamed in rage. The man stood before Damian—quiet, his golden eyes starting at him with a glowing intensity. Then a smirk crawled on his lips. The sight of the man’s expression sent a shiver down his spine.“Wh-What are you?” Damian cried, his jaw trembling, tears flowing, limbs shaking in horror, water dripping from all over, his soaked clothes clinging to his childish structure as slowly crawling backwards. … … (Now, I know your probably wondering “what the hell’s going on?” so let’s rewin
Chapter Two Ashes of Dawn
The rain had stopped. The storm had moved on, leaving behind a gray, lifeless dawn. Mist hung low over the forest, clinging to the trees like a veil. The world was eerily quiet, the ground soaked and muddy, littered with shattered glass, twisted metal, and the smeared remains of a family once whole. Blue and red lights flashed through the trees. Sirens broke the silence, their howls cutting through the morning fog as the first squad car pulled to a stop near the ravine. Moments later, an ambulance followed. “Over here!” an officer called out, stumbling down the slick slope. Another cop gasped behind him as his flashlight illuminated the overturned car, the bodies strewn around it. One of the paramedics whispered a curse under his breath at the sight. Blood had painted the earth, soaked into the grass, dried on metal and skin. Then they saw him. Curled beside his mother’s body, caked in blood and mud, was a boy—barely nine. His face was pale, his eyes wide open but vacant, stari
Chapter three: 13 years later
Thirteen years had passed. But the rain still sounded the same. It pattered against the rusted rooftop like it had that night—cold, indifferent, and eternal. Damian sat hunched in a folding chair near the only window of his cramped one-room apartment. The wallpaper was peeling, the light above flickered without rhythm, and the air reeked of stale instant noodles and damp wood. A single flickering lamp cast long shadows across his bare mattress and scattered clothes. He was twenty-two now. Lean, tired-eyed, and hardened by years of solitude. Damian Nakamura was alive, but barely. Not in any way that counted. He lit the last half of a cigarette and exhaled slowly, his dark eyes fixed on the rain outside. The city below was shrouded in fog, neon lights bleeding like bruises across the wet streets. He hadn’t dreamt in weeks. He didn’t want to. But the man with the golden eyes still visited him—not in sleep, but in every reflection. In every quiet moment. In the sound of thund
chapter four: What the hell!
Red and blue lights pierced through the veil of night as an ambulance skidded to a stop outside the warehouse. Tires hissed on the wet gravel. Two paramedics jumped out, their boots splashing into the mud. “Over here!” one of them shouted, flashlight sweeping through the open space. They found him in seconds. Damian lay in a pool of blood, motionless—his body pale, his breaths shallow. One leg twisted unnaturally, his clothes shredded and soaked in crimson. But his eyes, barely open, flicked weakly toward the light. “He’s alive! Barely!” The younger paramedic dropped to his knees, immediately checking Damian’s pulse. “Lacerations to the abdomen and chest. Puncture wounds—deep. What the hell did this to him?” “No time to wonder, let’s move!” They worked quickly, slipping an oxygen mask over Damian’s face, securing his neck in a brace. His body convulsed slightly as they lifted him, pain slicing through the thin veil of his unconsciousness. “He’s hemorrhaging. I need pres
chapter five: Chains and silence
Darkness. Not the kind that creeps in slowly, but the kind that clamps over you like a burial cloth. Damian stirred, his head pounding with a thick, pulsing ache. His mouth was dry, his skin damp with cold sweat. It took him a moment to realize his eyes were open—only to discover he couldn't see. A coarse fabric was tied tightly around his head. Blindfolded. Panic tickled the edge of his chest, but he forced his breath to steady. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Slow. Controlled. Just like he’d taught himself over the years. He tried to move his hands. Clink. A heavy, metallic sound answered him—cold iron biting into his wrists. Chains. The weight of them pulled his arms down, locking them somewhere behind him. The metal dug into his skin, raw and unrelenting, and every movement made the shackles clatter against what felt like concrete beneath him. “Where… am I?” he whispered, but his voice was hoarse, brittle, and the room swallowed it whole. No reply.
Chapter 6: what the hell is going on
Damian’s breath caught. Because the face staring back at him in the photo was him. The man with the golden eyes. The very same man who tore his family apart all those years ago. The face burned into his nightmares. The face that haunted every quiet moment. The man whose existence defied logic, reality, and everything Damian thought he knew. He stared at the picture, his whole body going rigid, blood from his broken nose trailing down to his chin. His voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible. “…Where did you get this?” The woman said nothing—her expression cold, watching him tremble. She let go of his collar, the picture still in front of him, burning itself into his thoughts. His hatred stirred. But beneath it now… a growing sense of fear. Damian's breath grew ragged. His eyes locked onto the picture—those golden eyes staring back at him, that smirk like a phantom carved into memory. His fingers curled into trembling fists, the metal chains around his wrists rattl
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