When I opened my eyes, I was lying in a soft bed. I sat up, looking around in confusion. This wasn't my house. The room was small but incredibly fancy, more luxurious than any castle I could imagine.
I stood and walked to a shiny stone that reflected my image. I didn't recognize the strange clothes I was wearing.
Beside the stone was a small wooden box with an image on it. It was a picture of me and my family.
My heart skipped a beat. How was this possible? We had never owned anything that could capture images.
Before I could process anything, a voice called out.
"Daemon, sweetie! Get down here before your breakfast gets cold!"
I froze. It was my mother's voice.
I ran downstairs. "Mother!" I shouted, my chest tightening.
She turned to me with a warm smile. "Mother? When did you start calling me that, sweetie? Are you feeling okay?"
Her words confused me, but I pushed forward, telling her everything—the fire, the man in the black robe, Father's death.
She laughed softly.
"Sweetie, I told you to get more sleep. Playing video games too much will give you strange dreams."
Her words made no sense. Video games? What was that?
Before I could ask, the front door slammed open.
My father walked in, but he wasn't alone. Behind him were men in black masks.
My mother screamed. "Who are they honey?! Why do they have guns?!"
"I don't know them!" my father shouted.
"They just showed up and forced me to come home. Please, don't hurt my family. Take whatever you want please I'm begging you!"
The men laughed cruelly.
My hands clenched into fists. I grabbed a nearby object to defend my family, but before I could act, one of the men grabbed me, twisting my arm painfully.
"Stay put, kid," he sneered. "You don't want me to break your arm, do you?"
I screamed in pain, but rage burned inside me. I recognized him. He was the man who killed my father.
He then orders his men to put a rope on me and my father.
He walked towards my mother, grabbing her chin with a disgusting smirk.
"She's a fine one," he said, his voice dripping with malice.
The men laughed as my mother stepped back, trembling.
"After I'm done, you can all have your turn," the man said.
"Keep your filthy hands off my mother!" I screamed, but the men only laughed.
"What are you gonna do, kid? Stab us with crayons haha?"
The leader grabbed my mother's arm, forcing her closer. His vile laughter filled the room as my mother struggled, tears streaming down her face.
"Please, don't hurt us!" my father begged, his voice cracking. "Take anything you want! Just leave my family alone!"
The man ignored him, his filthy hands tearing at my mother's clothes.
"NO!" I screamed, thrashing against the ropes that bound my hands and feet. But I was powerless.
My father's voice was hollow, barely audible. "You… monsters. You won't get away with this."
The men laughed again. "Oh, we'll get away with it. What are you gonna do, old man? Sit there and cry?"
One of them grabbed a piece of my mother's torn clothing and shoved it into my father's mouth. "Here, have a taste. Isn't it delicious?"
My father didn't react.
His eyes were empty, his spirit shattered.
"Don't open your eyes, sweetie," my mother whispered to me, her voice trembling. "I'm fine. Just… don't look."
But I couldn't stop watching. My mother's screams echoed in the room as they tore away her dignity, laughing like demons. My father's body slumped further, his tears mixing with the blood on the floor.
I wanted to die. I wanted it all to end.
The torment went on for what felt like hours.
They took turns, their cruelty knowing no bounds. My mother's cries grew weaker until they stopped altogether.
When they were done, the leader stood over her lifeless body, his blade glinting in the dim light. He sliced her throat slowly, savoring every moment.
I couldn't scream anymore.
My voice was gone, replaced by silent sobs.
The leader turned to one of his men. "Kill the old man. We're done here."
One of them pulled out a strange weapon, pointed it at my father's head, and pulled the trigger.
The deafening bang echoed in my ears as my father's body collapsed. Blood pooled around him, mixing with my mother's.
The leader looked at me, a twisted grin on his face. "Your turn, kid. Say goodbye." I just glared at the one who's pointing the gun at my forehead.
*Bang!*
When I opened my eyes, I was back at the beginning.
"Who are they honey?! Why do they have guns?!" my mother shouted.
I was standing in the same place, watching the same scene unfold. The men in the black mask raped and killed my parents countless times.
I tried to move, to scream, but my body wouldn't listen. I could only watch.
The nightmare repeated itself over and over. Each time, my parents died in different, horrific ways. Each time, I was powerless to stop it.
The man in the black mask taunted me everytime he killed them. His cruel smile burned into my memory.
Eventually, I stopped screaming. I stopped crying. My heart grew numb, my soul sinking into the void.
I accepted it somehow.
But when I woke up again, I wasn't in another place. I was back in my house, the scent of rain filling the air. The fire was gone, leaving behind charred ruins.
I looked around and saw my baby sister crying in my mother's lifeless arms. The sight tore at my heart, but no tears came. I was empty.
I gently picked up my sister, cradling her tiny body beside my lifeless mother. She was the only thing left. As I stood there, a voice echoed in my mind.
- Thou who endured all the hardships in life shall be rewarded. Rise, for you are chosen as the sole disciple of the Archon. -
The words sent a shiver down my spine. Archon? A God? Why would an Archon chose me as their diciple? I didn't understand them, but those words….
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I felt something stir within me, a faint spark of hope.
I looked down at my sister while carrying her. "I'll protect you," I whispered. "No matter what, even if the Gods itself becomes my enemy."