August 13, 2003, at 20:32 hours:
On the dark and ominous night in LarksVille, Boston, USA, rain fell relentlessly, creating a symphony as it crashed down on the pavement. It was unexpected rain at an unexpected time, just as it was an unexpected situation that transpired that night.
There were three men standing in front of a mansion, watching it burn into ash. Their faces were hidden under long-sleeved coats and the raindrops mixed with the blood in their hand, blotting out all traces of the heinous crime they had committed. They watched the house burn to the ground, then silently walked to a spot where they could witness its final crumble.
Inhaling the last of their cigarettes they tossed them into a puddle of rainwater. Satisfied with their view, they quickly hopped into a black vehicle parked near the house.
There was no expression on their faces, no hint of guilt, no hint of fear.
The car roared to life, and they drove away into the night leaving behind the scene of terror and despair. The house they destroyed still burned its last, crumbling into shattered dreams and disintegrating cement.
That night, every truth was buried alive, and every sense of justice met a brutal demise.
No one bore witness to the heinous act they had committed.
The rain and thunder wove a theatrical tapestry of suspense and mystery as if the very darkness mourned the tragic event. It wasn't supposed to be like this. This mansion, once echoing with the laughter of children and the joy of a happy family, now lay in ruins. A tragedy that was never meant to be.
Even Lucifer would have shed tears if he had witnessed the devastation. They did not deserve this. No one does.
These men showed no mercy.
They came. They took. They killed.
They made sure all the evidence was buried and burned inside the house. Leaving them as the honoured men of the society hidden under a mask. Criminals.
****
Inside, three children huddled together in a closet of the burning mansion. An 8-year-old with dark, ebony eyes and wild, jet-black hair sat beside a wide-eyed five-year-old girl, whose eyes were as deep and endless as the ocean. In the arms of the boy was a fragile four-year-old, her golden-blonde hair cascading in delicate waves around her cherubic face and soft brown eyes.
What just happened?
Two hours ago:
"Mommy, look!" The ebony-eyed boy squealed in joy as he showed his recent family sketch to his mother – his superhero father, a lovely mother, a little sister, and himself. A complete, happy family. Alongside them, a little girl with ocean-blue eyes, his dear friend.
"That's wonderful, honey!" His mother, currently in the big kitchen making dinner, smiled. Despite the odd, rainy weather casting a gloomy and dark atmosphere, she adored her children before her. Her husband was supposed to return from the trip soon with good news. All the hard work would finally pay off. The Winstons and Romanos would finally forge a business tie, and with that, Romanos would enter the international market very soon.
All the dreams her husband and she had woven would soon come true. With hope in her heart, she encouraged, "Why don't you teach your sister and..." Before she could finish, a woman rushed into the house. Her blond hair was wet from the rain, her deep blue eyes worried, and her breath ragged from running. She was distraught.
"Guliana!" The blond woman cried. "They are coming!"
Who? Guliana wanted to ask, but she was cut short when the blond woman showed her a video on her phone, revealing the harsh truth. Guliana gasped as soon as she watched the video and cried in terror at the end.
"They took everything from us. I can't forgive them! I can't. I will not." The blond woman said. "They betrayed not only Romano but the Winstons too," she spoke through her sobs. "And I promise, they will pay."
It was shocking for Guliana to process everything at a time. How did her perfect family turn upside down in just a day?
"Where is Lucas?" Guliana asked, her eyes searching for her husband while looking at her best friend. When she didn't find him, her gaze met her friend's. "Where is he?"
The blond woman didn't know what to say. Was there anything left to say? "He— He's... I don't know..." She sighed. With tears in her eyes, she began, "They took him, they lied to us, Guli. They betrayed us." Her voice broke with each word. "They took everything from us. They—"
"No—" Guliana cried in despair.
"Don't get weak, Guli," the blond woman cooed. "We have to be strong. They are after the black box!"
"What do we do now?" Guliana asked in shock and terror.
"Run!" The blond woman replied with a determined hushed tone. The situation before her wasn't a pleasant one. She knew they couldn't escape their fate. But with whatever they have, she knows she has to save the kids. "We need to run. We need to hide the black box. They are after us now. The kids. We need to save them!"
The terror etched across Guliana's eyes bore witness to her helplessness in that haunting moment. She stole a glance at her children – her eight-year-old son and four-year-old daughter, alongside the blue-eyed child, who gazed at her in bewilderment. How had their once-happy family ended up in this nightmare?
"Mommy," her daughter cried.
Words of comfort eluded Guliana; all she could manage was, "Don't worry, baby. Mommy will save you. No matter what!"
As they hurried to run, a thunderous bang on the door synchronized with the storm outside. The two women turned around before exchanging terrified glances, their urgency intensifying. They are here!
They do not have time to leave now. How can they save the black box and their child?
In a frantic hurry, Guliana and the blond woman guided the kids into a closet, desperate to shield them from the impending threat. Unaware of the dire circumstances, the children huddled together in the confined space. They did what they were told, like a good kid. What other options did they have anyway? Not that their mothers would allow them to be out.
As the time ticked by, Guliana glanced at her kids for the last time. With a glimmer of hope, she whispered to her son, "No matter what, my son, you need to stay safe and avenge our family." She handed the black box to him.
Confused, the boy didn't grasp the gravity of his mother's words. What was going on?
Kissing his forehead, Guliana murmured for the last time, "I love you."
"I love you, Mommy!" he replied.
"Take care of your sister and your friend, okay? Never let go of their hands, and do not come out unless I say so," Guliana guided them, tears welling in her eyes. But as true as the day and night, she knew her chance of returning was as crucial as the stars in the day sky. Biting back her tears she whispered, "If you see I don't come back, just run from here, okay?"
The blonde woman hugged her little daughter for the last time, with eyes full of tears before asking the older boy, "Take care of her for me, will you?"
The boy nodded in return. Even if he was too young to understand what was going on, he knew something was not right. The woman took off the family heirloom from her neck as she handed the locket to him, "When she is old enough to know what happened, give her this for me."
Taking the golden lion locket, he clutched it in his small hand.
"Promise?" The blonde woman asked through her soft sobs.
"Promise," the boy replied.
He nodded as Guliana closed the door behind her, plunging everything into darkness. They could only hear muffled cries and voices.
"You?" The other woman shouted in shock. Something in their voice tells that the person before the woman was someone once used to be close to before turning into the monster that is haunting their life now "How can you do this to us?"
A man laughed an evil laugh as he replied, "It was a game from the very beginning, Em."
Behind the concealed door, all they could hear were the anguished screams of their mothers. Screams to fight for the truth. For their life. With the terror of screams, two bullets were shot. The children huddled together in fear as they were unaware of the outside world. But curiosity got the best of him, as the older child dared to push the crack of the door to witness the gruesome scene.
The younger child, more sensitive, had fainted, and the blue-eyed girl yearned to help but was restrained by her older brother. Embracing them both, he silently wished for the night to pass, hoping that by tomorrow morning, everything would be alright again.
****
The rain outside seemed to mirror the sorrow of the tragedy as if the sky itself wept today. The mansion had once been full of joy and happiness, and now it was just a pile of rubble. Shattered glass, broken pieces of furniture, and their lost hope. They tried to escape, but there was no way out. The closet door was stuck, and there was no one there to help them.
"Help!" Their screams echoed from within the closet but were swallowed by the thunder, tear-stained faces of the children aglow with flickering flames as they sobbed through the empty, burning house, huddled in fear.
Was this their final chapter, where the threads of fate wove their conclusion?
Maybe, or maybe not.
Fate has always been a gamester, weaving intricate plots. Now, we must wait to discover the game it has set in motion this time.
****
Their sobs persisted, and their gaze shifted to the floor from the crevice of the closet door.
Two women lay there, eyes transfixed on the children as they drew their final breaths. Ready to fight, to hold on, and to survive—just for those kids.
But they failed. Life and fate, like heartless puppeteers, orchestrated their demise.
Even in their final moments, their thoughts were solely on the children. What would happen to them? How would they survive? Would they survive?
It remained unknown.
Finally surrendering to misery, they sighed their last breaths. Lifeless eyes looked at the children through the closet door's crevasse with a wry smile. Even in death, they wanted the kids to know a mother's love surpassed life's cruel game.
They sacrificed their lives for the kids, so they could live. But in the end, they weren't sure if their sacrifice made any sense.
Their eyes stilled, ensuring one last time that their children were still alive. When they saw they were, hidden from the monster outside, it was their time to leave.
A brutal testament to life's fragile nature.
The cruelty of humanity. The weakness no human can suppress. Death.
****
Two women were brutally raped and tormented until their souls could no longer hold on. As a helpless witness to their suffering, the ebony-orbbed-eye kid sat by helplessly, unable to do anything to save them.
Blood and fire painted a gruesome scene, one that those children would never forget—a sight they should never have witnessed. What was their fault in all this? Why were they being punished?
The answer remained elusive.
Smoke began to choke them, filling the room and their lungs, causing them to cough heavily. They needed to run, to escape.
The ebony-orbed kid frantically pulled the others, desperation in their eyes as they sought an escape from the engulfing flames. Relentless, the fire chased them through the crumbling ruins, an obstacle they didn't know how to overcome. As they sprinted to find an exit, the fire had already encircled the whole house. The door had crumbled with the house, leaving only ruins behind as a testament to today's tragedy. Heavy blocks of solid cement blocked their way.
They were struck. The fire began to spread engulfing the two women on the floor. As they ran, the heat of the encroaching fire licked at their backs, and the acrid scent of burning wood and flesh mingled with the desperate cries of the crackling flames.
With each passing moment, the fire pursued the children, leaving the outcome of their escape shrouded in uncertainty. What would happen to them? Would their mother's sacrifice prove to be enough?
****
In the end, only muffled screams and blurred faces filled with tears remained.
The horrifying moments could terrify anyone, rendering them helpless. And they were only kids.
The fire continued to spread, consuming everything in its path.
Until it engulfed them all.
Until nothing remained.
****
14th August 2003: 09:20 hours.
Young Sheriff Hampton strode purposefully alongside the police force to the site of the previous night's gruesome incident. The air hung heavy with the residue of tragedy, rain-soaked debris scattered across the scorched earth.
"Sir, only a few parts of the bodies were found. Two females," the officer's voice crackled through the walkie-talkie from the other side.
"Anything else?" Hampton inquired, his gaze fixed on the charred remnants of the mansion, finding any clue.
"No, sir."
"Okay," the Sheriff replied.
As they began their investigation, local news crews descended upon the area, armed with cameras and microphones, hungry for answers.
"Well, it's hard to say if this is an accident or an act of revenge," Hampton addressed the probing journalists, his tone measured, concealing the complexity of the situation. The rain continued its mournful dance, hiding the secrets that the mansion once held. "As you can see, she is, after all, a Romano."