Chapter 4 - Prologue II

"You sure about that? You won't break my heart, ever. Right?"

Arthas still remembered the time he confessed her feeling to Sophia during Christmas Eve. Her face, illuminated by the bursting fireworks in the sky, was never so beautiful. It was as if that face was etched in his mind, forever; her round doe-like eyes, her cheeks - a crimson shade, and her lips, slowly curling upwards.

Arthas had met Sophie during one of his escape from a crime scene, a near fatal injury. She helped him to his place, helped him with the first-aid even made a soup for him. It was honestly a first for him, to have someone take care for him like that, apart from his mother.

She was the only solace he found in his life filled with perils at every step.

"People have hurt me in the past. I am now afraid to trust new people. So, if you are also like them, tell me now so that I can stop myself from having any unrealistic expectations."

He remembered how she looked when she asked him this. Tears about to roll down her eyes, an unease within them, anxiety, expectation, and a little fear.

He remembered how he approached her with quickened steps back them, his heart beating. The world around them faded into the background as he closed down the distance between them. Time had slowed down, and all that mattered was the connection they shared.

And he planted a soft kiss on her lips.

"No. I will never hurt you. Never."

He leaned a little into her, finding solace in the familiar comfort of her embrace. In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of their shared past, he realized that his love for her was a treasure worth cherishing.

* * * * * *

"Sophie?"

The world had come crashing down for Arthas, the betrayal far too strong for him to bear. Years of dreams and the hope of a happy family faded into the realm of a distant past.

As he stood there, numb, the memories of them laughing together, being intimate together in this very toom flashed through his mind. An indescribable heaviness settled in his chest, causing his heart to race and his breath to catch. It all felt a lie and rage seethed within him. He felt his blood boiling, wanting to burn everything down.

"You... you fucking bastards!" His voice erupted in anger, veins bulging on his forehead as he stormed into the room, forcefully swinging the door open.

Betrayal, sadness, and anger waged war within him, battling for dominance.

""A-Arthas. I-it….."

He could see the surprise, the fear fear on her wife's face but he ignored it for the moment. He focus was elsewhere.

"Who the fuck are you, man?" the man retorted, annoyance etched on his face, irritated by the interruption. Attempting to rise from the bed, he was met with the weight of Arthas' words.

"I am her fucking husband, you piece of shit."

But amidst the wreckage, Arthas knew that he had to find strength within himself. He moved forward, pushing her wife from the way and grabbed the man by his neck.

"How dare you? How fucking dare you touch my wife?" he roared, applying force to his grip, choking the man.

Fists clenched, he unleashed a barrage of punches upon the man's face, but it was not enough. His eyes fell upon a nearby table lamp, and in a fit of rage, he repeatedly smashed it onto the man's face, again and again, again and again, and again, reducing it to a gruesome pulp. The skin came off on different parts of his face, his cheek bones visible. He laid there lifeless on the bed, covered in blood.

Colour paled from Sophie's face and she stood frozen in the corner, terror gripping her. The sight of her husband brutally smashing a person to death filled her with overwhelming sense of fear. She felt afraid of what might come to her.

After seeing him dead, Arthas turned to face his wife. She was standing in a corner of the room, frozen and afraid, like a meek lamb awaiting its slaughter, but it did little to calm his nerves.

Standing before her, anger resonated in every word he spoke. "Why did you do this? To me? To our family?" His voice thundered with anger, his approach measured. Her frozen silence only fueled his rage further, intensifying his desire to eradicate her from his life. The mere sight of her was inexcusable for him. The table lamp came crashing down on her.

"You fucking whore. Why did you do it? WHY?" His voice trembled with a mixture of anger, pain, and betrayal.

In a fit of uncontrollable rage, he grabbed the fallen lamp, his grip tightening around it as he swung it repeatedly, again and again, and again; the blows raining down upon Sophie's bloodied figure. She sat there, unable to defend herself, drenched in crimson.

"P-Please, stop. I am sorry," she pleaded desperately, her voice filled with fear and regret.

Blinded with rage, Arthas relentlessly struck her, the sound of impact echoing through the room. Her body eventually collapsed to the ground. Even this didn't stop him as he continued to continued to pummel her with the lamp, attempting to purge himself of the pent-up anger that consumed him.

Downstairs, a six-year old girl had just entered the home after school when she heard an angry roar. She recognized this voice; it was her father's. 'But why is he shouting?' she wondered. Still, not having met him for more than a month, she was excited to see him and thus went to his room.

As she entered the room, the sight of a naked man lying on the bed covered in blood entered her eyes. She felt afraid. She wanted to run away from this gruesome sight but saw her father beating her mother with the lamp post. Her mother sat there, not doing anything, covered in blood. An unknown fear crept inside her and she ran towards her.

She saw his father strike her mother relentlessly with the lamp, as her lifeless body collapsed to the ground.

"Papa, stop!" A voice, interrupting his fury, reached his ears. Filled with anger, he swung the table lamp toward the sound. The impact struck the child's face, sending her flying sideways. Her head collided with the upper corner of the bed, a force that twisted her delicate neck. The child's body came falling down on the ground, with a snapped neck, lifeless.

"Huh? J-Jinny? Is that you?"

His daughter's voice had finally brought him back from his frenzy. His mind cleared a little, and a new sight awaited him - the lifeless body tumbled to the ground, her neck broken.

Witnessing the horror he had caused, it felt as if Arthas' soul vacated his body. The lamp post fell to the ground. He slowly walked towards the lifeless six-year old child and fell to the ground, his legs leaving all the strength. Collapsing beside her, he cradled her tiny form, attempting to comprehend the incomprehensible. He didn't know how to respond as the shock was overwhelming. Overwhelmed with shock, dizziness, and numbness, he struggled to accept the reality of what had transpired. His beloved daughter, his everything, lay dead in his arms, taken by his own hands.

The initial shock metamorphosed into a maelstrom of emotions—anger, disbelief, despair, and an overwhelming sense of guilt. He sat there, a dazed and shattered figure, clutching his daughter's lifeless form, the weight of his actions bearing down on him with unbearable force.

Oh no. What had he done? The realization of what he had done settled deep within his soul, shattering any semblance of coherence.

"H-Huh? W-What have I d-done?" His words emerged in fragments, his trembling lips struggling to form the disarrayed thoughts in his mind.

"Please... What have I done? Somebody help me! Somebody?" His voice quivered, pleading for redemption and assistance. Yet, the empty house remained silent, his anguished cries reverberating through the hollow spaces.

* * * * * *

In the distance, a low rumble of thunder echoed through the air, setting the stage for an impending storm.

The thunder intensified, reverberating with such force that it seemed to shake the very fabric of existence. Suddenly, the entire sky ignited in a brilliant display of light.

Above, a meteor shower painted the dusky canvas, adding a touch of ethereal beauty to the sky. However, amidst the shower's natural elegance, one meteor stood out. It deviated from its usual path, its trajectory aimed at a specific country, a particular city, and ultimately, a particular house.

Inside the house, a somber darkness enveloped every room. And inside a particular room, a man, consumed by grief, sat motionless, cradling the lifeless form of a child in one hand while clutching a gun in the other. His eyes held a vacant emptiness, mirroring the depths of his despair.

However, just as he mustered the resolve to bring the gun to his temple, to pull the trigger, to end it all, a sudden crimson glow penetrated through the heavy drapes. In an instant, everything erupted. The room, the house, - engulfed in a violent conflagration.

The searing flames of the explosion reached out, their fiery tendrils grasping at him. Yet, strangely, he did not feel pain. Instead, he felt their touch, akin to the gentle grip of a thousand fingers upon a colossal hand. The flames twisted unnaturally, their fiery branches reaching towards his suspended form. And then, darkness consumed everything. His weary eyes closed, surrendering to the abyss.