An Evil Justice

Chapter 1 – Sinful Child

--* Fenlei City, Missor *--

The pitter patter of rain drowned the world with its roars. The concrete ground, dotted with small puddles, reflected the amazing spectacle of the storm above, and emitted a whiff of earth throughout the air; the satisfying aroma of nature. It seemed almost mystical, yet treacherous at the same time. Amidst this magical world, a lone individual stood, absorbing the amazing fantasy into his cloaked body.

Crimson eyes stabbed through the darkness of his hood and up into the dreary skies, unfocused on reality. A somber aura surrounded the figure as he watched electricity roll in the gray clouds above and drills of water pour down. With a spark, lightning cracked from the vast skies and blazed the abandoned street with a flash of light, revealing a wicked smirk on the man’s mouth. Inside of his head, a distant past replayed, its absurdity plastering a wide grin on the individual’s rugged face.

--* Hepton Downtown, Missor *--

A young boy sat in pitch black, his innocent, brown eyes filled with tears. The room was dull and gray. It was as if the world was in black and white, no colors, no sound, and no life. Just the crying child, alone in the darkness of this prison.

Two sleeping figures lay before him, lifeless and unmoving as if they did not exist. Wind and rain howled outside, threatening to rampage and shatter his frail-looking body, but the quaint house he was held stood against the storm’s torturous lashings.

The world outside was filled with danger, and world inside was filled with nothingness.

The boy felt like he was restrained into this dull limbo, unable to do anything he wanted, but the outside was too unforgiving for him to free himself. Born into an impoverish household, his parents did everything they could to live. They would steal, they would rob, they would lie and cheat, nothing was beyond their moral compass, as long as it assured their lives.

This disease called poverty struck many households in the world, but no one bothered to cure it. The government kept to its own, flourishing from the mountains of wealth they steal from their already poor citizens. Criminals were allowed to do anything they wanted, even at the cost of the innocent’s well-being. It was a perfect dystopia. Corrupted and tainted by the sins of men.

Naturally, the child wanted to avoid all this hard reality. He wanted to do everything his classmates did. Feast on large meals created by expert chefs, play with their friends until the sun fell, or even to just live a carefree life, away from harm, away from darkness, filled with warmth and joy. It was a simple wish, but an ocean of flames blocked him. His mother would cage him in their gray and rundown house, forcing him to do work. His father would abuse him whenever a business deal would go awry, bruising and cutting his flesh.

It was torture.

Why didn’t anyone save him? Was his existence a sin? What did he do to deserve such punishments?

His parents acted like chains, digging into his skin and forcing him back from the freedom he wanted. If only they didn’t exist…

Of course, this was the wishful thinking of a naïve child unwilling to cope with the responsibilities thrust upon him by the cruelty of reality. He kissed the devil in his mind as he stared in spite to those who gave birth to him. To the hands that sacrifice themselves to feed and care for him. What could his parents do? Society was unwilling to accept the poor into their secure lives, gazing down at the lower class in contempt and disdain.

If it was to secure their child’s future in this cruel world, they would sacrifice anything to do so, even if it causes the boy displeasure. That was their only wish, to raise their child to become a fine young man, capable of digging himself out of the misery haunting the world. They accept his ire always digging into their guilty souls as the child stares at them in hatred. All they wanted was to raise him into a respectable adult and allow their battered bodies to rest, letting the future spark with hope.

But would their wishes really be granted?

The boy’s brown eyes stared intently at the sleeping figures of his parents. A ragged blanket littered with rips and holes barely covered their shivering and creaking bodies. The cold night air drilled deep into their worn bones, weakening their already exhausted muscles. His father’s unshaven face was ugly to behold, like that of a demon’s, while his mother looked like a tyrant, dreaming of eating his freedom up.

Teardrops rolled down the child’s bony cheeks. He knew of his parents’ deep love for him, providing food and even giving up their time to play with him as a child, but they were devils. They had to chain him up like a slave, forcing him to do unfair tasks, unlike the other children at school. It hurt him, but it was a necessary action.

He needed to free himself, tear away the chains weighing down on his body.

A muffled scream echoed out into the night as the boy’s hand descended to his father’s throat, imbedding a silver knife into it. The man’s eyes instantly cracked open, staring at him in shock and horror as he struggled to pull the object out of his neck.

“I’m just setting myself free. Setting myself free. I’m not doing anything wrong,” the boy’s hands shivered as he forced the blade deeper into his father’s neck. He felt the skin tear and rip apart, the veins and arteries spraying with crimson as they were pierced through mercilessly. A vat of bile and vomit quickly filled his mouth, but the boy persevered. Swallowing the burning liquid back down into his stomach, he watched his father slowly descend into the darkness, hopelessly gripping at the knife in his throat.

Then the man was still. Blood had splattered everywhere, dyeing his pale and famished face crimson. While his body began to succumb to death, his milky eyes glinted with tears, his chest exploded with the pain of guilt when he saw his child’s similarly tearful face. Not before long, the cold grasps of death had reaped his soul.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… Papa…” snot and drops of sorrow fell from the tainted boy’s cheeks. His eyes were bloodshot and driven with shame and grief, but his mind was made up. It had to be done, there was no other way.

His childish hands grabbed the wooden handle and slowly pulled the knife out of the dead man’s throat. He felt the flesh giving away, splattering crimson all over his small body. When the warm liquid drenched his soft skin and pink mouth, the boy felt something change inside him.

“I have to do it…” the boy’s fists gripped onto the knife with ferocity. Guilt, shame, pain, or even remorse, none of these feelings existed in the child’s mind now. Taking the life of his own father seemed to have broken the boy’s conscience. There was no more innocence in the child’s once pure body, but cold ruthlessness. Instead of a soft brown filling his eyes, there was a pool of crimson tinting them, just like that of a demon’s.

Without a moment of pause, the air flashed silver and was quickly filled with a woman’s wet screech. It was a necessary action the child kept telling himself. If they were gone, then he could do whatever he wanted! He could play with the other kids, he could sleep whenever he wanted, and he could eat whatever food he liked!

His mother’s wrinkled face was filled with horror as she awoke with terror. What greeted her was not the ink of night, but the glowing crimson of demonic eyes. She wanted to scream, yell for help, but the sharp pain in her throat prevented any such actions. It was at that moment that she recognized the figure hovering above her body.

A child. Her own baby boy she had painstakingly raised to be a perfect and successful gentleman, covered in her own lifeblood.

‘I guess I deserve it…’ these words echoed out in her mind, ‘I was a horrible parent.’

Unwilling to leave with regrets, she forced her red mouth to smile and slowly mouthed her goodbyes.

‘I love you…’

Warmth filled her dying heart and tears began to roll down her aged cheeks. Even if she was the one being wronged, how could a mother ever dare to hate her own child? Though regret and guilt tinged her emotions, there was one more throb of humanity’s greatest asset left within her. The love of a caring mother.

Mulling over her life, she remembered her child’s first words, his sweet and charming smile, the feeling she had when she first sent him off to school. Reliving such warm moments cleansed her body of any corruption. When she finally succumbed to the embrace of the afterlife, her face was not warped into that of a raging monster, but that of a loving parent.

…

Fueled by selfishness, the boy had committed sins against his parents to set himself free, deceiving himself from the cruelty of his actions. Filled with wrath and anger, his knife descended without mercy, but he felt his heart tear into pieces with every second he spent with the corpse of his mother. The words she mouthed, the sorrow his father had pent up, and the shame in his mind, it all culminated in his very being, forging his broken soul.

Without a word, the child rose from the two lifeless bodies and walked to a nearby window. The rain outside had grown into a rage-filled storm. Dragons rolled in its black clouds and electricity cackled like a mad witch’s laugh.

Then they cracked, its pale white light shining on the boy’s blood covered face. Piercing crimson veiled his bloodthirsty eyes and a terrifying grin was plastered on his mouth. There was no guilt, just pure joy, and ecstasy.

“I’m free…” his childish voice muttered.