I stepped out of my workplace, heading home after a long, exhausting day. The gloomy atmosphere enveloped me that cold, rainy night, as the rain poured down heavily, cascading onto the ground as if foretelling some mysterious event. I wore a black coat, trying to shield myself from the biting cold air that stung my skin.
As I walked beneath the dim streetlights, I felt the raindrops falling on my face, whispering secrets of the night. The sidewalks gleamed with moisture, reflecting my moving shadows, while the wind howled through the trees, as if inviting me back to warmth and comfort.
The closer I got to my home, the more a strange feeling of anxiety crept over me. Inside, I longed for the warmth of the fireplace and the aroma of tea that my mother always prepared on nights like this. Memories of my childhood flooded my mind, when I would gather with my family around the fire, sharing stories and forgetting the cold outside. Those moments made me feel safe.
When I reached my front door, I took my keys from my pocket and paused for a moment. I listened to the sound of the rain, like a sad melody playing on the strings of my heart. Each drop reminded me of past moments, unfulfilled dreams, and old pains. I opened the door and stepped inside, embraced by the warmth of home and the scent of tea filling the air. But that cold night left a deep feeling within me, as if it were reminding me that life, even in its darkest moments, carries warmth and tenderness within.
As I entered, the warmth of the place welcomed me like a tender hug. My mother, Mrs. Mary, was in the kitchen preparing tea, her familiar scent permeating the air. She was a woman in her fifties, her gray hair cascading gently over her shoulders, her face illuminated by a warm smile. Her eyes, filled with the wisdom of years, sparkled with joy at the sight of her son.
"Welcome back, Akumaru! How was your day?" she asked in her gentle voice, adding a touch of honey to the cup.
"It was long, but I'm glad to be home," I replied, taking off my coat and trying to shake off the chill of the rain.
In the corner of the room, my little sister, Emily, was playing with her toys. At seven years old, her black hair flowed like waves, and her eyes sparkled like stars in the sky. When she saw me, she ran toward me, hugging me excitedly, saying, "Brother! Tell me a story!"
"Of course, Emily. But after I have a cup of tea, can you wait a little?" I smiled at her, seeing the brightness and energy in her eyes.
In another corner of the room, my younger brother, Ethan, was sitting on the couch at twelve years old. His features hinted at early maturity, yet he still held onto the innocence of childhood. I looked at him and sensed how much he had changed. "Hey, Ethan. What are you up to?"
"I'm watching some gaming videos. Can you play with me later?" Ethan replied innocently, though he couldn't hide his smile at seeing me.
As we gathered around the table, with conversation and laughter flowing, I realized, at seventeen years old, how precious these moments were. My family—a loving mother, a little sister reflecting the innocence of life, and a young brother striving to achieve his dreams—was my refuge from all the hardships of the outside world. With the sound of rain tapping on the windows, I felt an inner serenity, as if these moments were the warmth I needed on cold winter nights.
[Current Perspective of Akumaru]
I began to open my eyes slowly, as if emerging from a deep coma. The first thing that greeted me was pitch darkness, like an endless void engulfing me in unknown depths.
How did I get here? There was chaos and screaming, the echo of heavy breaths filling the air. I saw it, that terrifying creature with glowing eyes like embers and sharp fangs glimmering in the dim light. Each blow from its arm felt like a storm, leaving a deep mark on my body and mind.
I was sure I had died during the fight with it. How could I forget that feeling of my head rolling slowly?
As I gathered my strength, I realized I was in a strange place, surrounded by mysterious engravings pulsating with life on the walls. The carvings twisted like serpents, bearing terrifying forms of monstrous heads and open eyes watching me mercilessly. I felt something clench my heart, as if those drawings were whispering secrets from ancient times, secrets I was not meant to uncover.
"Didn't I tell you, Akumaru, that if you failed this mission, you would face even greater torment?"
I looked back, "I was scared."
I saw that devil again; the same one I had encountered on that mountain. It was him, I was sure of it. With pointed black horns and narrow eyes holding a deep chill, its massive black wings loomed behind it.
It sat on a throne, head held high, looking down at me with disdain, as if I were an ant.
The throne it occupied was made of dark stone, adorned with engravings resembling unsolved puzzles, as if it bore witness to untold historical events. Behind it, the walls were black, etched with strange symbols.
"Don't ever think that if you die, you'll escape punishment."
"I... how could I be here? Didn't I die?" I shouted.
"That is not important; what matters is what kind of punishment you will face."
I looked at him in shock. "What... what do you mean?"
To be continued...