Chapter 1
Hello everyone,
I would like to thank you all for reading my book and for your support. To understand this book, please read the first part. The link is below.
https://www.inkitt.com/stories/thriller/445946
POV: Diablo
I woke to a pounding headache and an overwhelming sense of emptiness. Sitting up in bed, I ran a hand through my hair, a lingering question echoing in my mind—Who am I?
Barefoot, I rose from the bed and approached the mirror. As my fingers traced the sharp angles of my face, a thought struck me—Damn, who is that sexy man?
Then, something caught my eye. A small piece of paper was stuck to the mirror. Curiosity sparked in my chest as I reached for it and read the words scrawled across it:
“Remove your shirt. Remember who you are.”
Brusquely, I grabbed the hem of my black shirt and yanked it over my head.
To my surprise, my skin was covered in tattoos—not intricate designs or symbols, but names. Dozens of them, inked across my body like a story written on flesh.
I traced the letters with my fingers as I read them aloud. Alyssia, my love. Carla, my best friend. Jess. Elina.
Then, right across my chest, bold and unmissable, was a message that sent a chill down my spine:
PAUL. KILL HIM. REVENGE.
Just beneath it, another line of inked words commanded my attention:
“Open your drawer and read your diary.”
My body wasn’t just marked—it was a map. A guide. A past I had forgotten, waiting to be uncovered.
I frantically scanned the room like a madman, searching for the mysterious drawer that would reveal my identity. Then I saw it—in the bathroom. A black, rusted drawer with a sticker on it that read: “Open me.”
Without hesitation, I rushed toward it and yanked it open. Inside, I found a camera and dozens of photographs. My fingers trembled as I sifted through them. One had a note scrawled across it: Alyssia’s Father. Another depicted a tall, dark-skinned man with the words Paul—Rightful Man. But the one that made my breath hitch was different.
Paul. Destroy him.
At the bottom of the drawer, buried beneath the photos, lay a navy blue diary. As I reached for it, a single photograph slipped out and fluttered to the floor.
I bent down and picked it up. A stunning woman, radiant and pregnant, smiled back at me, blowing a kiss toward the camera. My heart clenched as my eyes landed on the name written beneath it.
Alyssia.
The moment I read her name, a searing pain exploded in my skull. I clutched my head with both hands, a sudden rush of laughter echoing in my ears—her laughter.
Who is she?
“Read me!”
The words were scrawled across the cover of the diary.
I snatched it up and flipped through the pages, my eyes devouring every word with a desperate hunger. As I read, something strange happened—images of the people within the diary flickered to life before me, like ghosts from a forgotten past. Then, in a crashing wave, it all came back.
I remembered.
I am Diablo.
Paul’s assault had left me with short-term memory loss. That bastard had taken everything from me—Alyssia, my love. My family. He had killed them all.
A sudden, uncontrollable rage erupted within me, a fire so intense it felt like my body would shatter from the sheer force of it. I threw my head back and screamed, my voice raw with fury, before tearing through the room, destroying everything in my path.
The thirst for revenge surged through my veins, and in that moment, I remembered everything—as if it had happened just yesterday.
So this is my life now.
I capture everyone with a camera, write their names in a diary, and tattoo my own body just to remember what I did.
Pacing back and forth, still clutching my head like a madman, my gaze suddenly landed on a book resting on the shelf. Three bold words stood out on its cover: “Remove me.”
A surge of urgency shot through me. I rushed toward it, convinced I must have left myself another message. But the moment I pulled the book free, something unexpected happened.
With a low creak, the wall shifted. A hidden passageway yawned open before me.
My breath caught in my throat. Mouth slightly agape, I stood frozen, staring into the darkness beyond.
What the hell had I built?
What kind of person had I become?
Fear coursed through me as I descended the stairs slowly, each step heavy with trepidation. At the bottom, I found myself facing a red door. Next to it, a face scanner gleamed ominously.
Hesitating for a moment, I pressed my face against the scanner. The door creaked open, flooding the space with bright light.
What lay before me made my heart race—a half-naked man, his hands bound to the ceiling, blood splattered across his body. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at him, dread pooling in my stomach.
Who was he?
A videotape dangled from the man’s neck, the words “Play me” scrawled across it. With cautious steps, I approached the unconscious figure and snatched the tape away.
Looking around for a device to play it, I spotted an old television with a tape player tucked away in the corner. My heart raced as I inserted the tape, anticipation coursing through me.
As the screen flickered to life, I was met with a shocking sight—there I was, my own face staring back at me, talking directly to myself.
“Hello, Diablo!
This is us talking to each other. As you must know, we suffer from short-term memory loss. We keep track of everything we do by capturing pictures, writing in a diary, and videotaping ourselves every night so we can remember what happened the day before.
Listen to me—do not pity the man behind you. He is not innocent. Look at him and remember who he is. That’s Mr. Johnson, Alyssia’s father, the one who sold her. Everything started with him.
Let me tell you how he ended up here.
One year ago, when we got out of the hospital, we made our plan to destroy them all. We needed to finish them. The first step was finding that pig, Johnson, and after much difficulty, we finally did.
It wasn’t easy; we kept forgetting everything in the middle of our mission. But yesterday, we succeeded.
You’ll meet a kind lady in just a moment—her name is Selena. She will explain how we did it. I would love to narrate it to you myself, but I can feel the familiar void creeping in. Whenever you start to feel dizzy, that’s a sign you’re about to forget everything, so make sure to take notes before it happens.
DO NOT UNBIND HIM!" The video ended.
“Where will I find Selena?”
I grabbed the television, trying to talk to myself, but it was futile. Frustration boiled over as I turned aggressively toward the man behind me and slapped him with all my might, jolting him awake.
“How did you end up here?” I yelled, my voice laced with rage.
He looked at me, confusion etched across his face, one eyebrow raised as a devilish smile crept onto his lips.
“I’m your friend, and you’re here to rescue me!” he attempted to deceive me.
“I’m not your fool! I’m the one who put you here, but I just can’t remember how!” I shouted, grabbing his hair in a fit of anger. In response, he slammed his forehead into mine, and I stumbled backward, crashing to the ground.
The familiar void I had warned myself about in the video returned, threatening to swallow my memories whole. I looked around desperately, trying to take notes, but it was too late. I found myself sitting on the floor, exploring every corner of the room, wondering where I was.
“Hello! Please help me!” I heard a voice call out from behind me.
“Oh my God! Who are you?” I exclaimed as I rushed to untie him.
“Who did this?” I asked urgently.
“I’ll tell you later! Let’s get out of here!”
I nodded and wrapped my arms around the man’s waist, supporting him as he struggled to walk. We climbed up the stairs and entered an apartment, heading straight for the front door, eager to escape this prison.
But as I opened the exit door, a man in his fifties suddenly appeared in front of us. Panic washed over his face as he shoved me back inside and locked the door behind him.
“He’s the one holding us captive!” the man I was trying to help shouted desperately.
“He’s lying! Listen, Diablo! I will show you who you are! Come with me!” the older man urged, trying to convince me.
“He’s lying!” the other man yelled back, his voice filled with urgency.
They were both shouting, each claiming the other was deceitful, and as their voices clashed, I began to feel dizzy. The words before me twisted and blurred, and a surge of rage ignited within me. In a flash, I lunged at the old man, my fist connecting with his face.
He slapped me back, trying to regain control, but I was beyond reason. I sprang to my feet, grabbed a chair, and smashed it against him, splintering wood and drawing blood from his hand.
In the chaos, the other man dashed to a cupboard, pulled out a gun, and handed it to me. “Shoot the one keeping us prisoner!” he urged.
As I pointed the gun at him, his face drained of color, as if he were about to leave this world. I was ready to pull the trigger when a bright light suddenly appeared in front of me. The light coalesced into a delicate, beautiful figure.
Though stunning, she was not human—just a reflection of light. The name “Alyssia” escaped my lips, even though I had no idea who she was. She stepped closer, touched my face gently, and whispered, “REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE!”
The moment her fingers brushed against my skin, everything came rushing back. In a fury, I spun around and slapped Johnson across the face. Mad with rage, I seized him by the neck and dragged him back toward the dungeon, smashing everything in my path against him before finally shooting him in both legs.
“It happened because of you!” I yelled, aiming my gun at his head.
“STOP!” a female voice shouted from behind me.
She was beautiful—a perfectly shaped body, blood-red hair tied in a ponytail, ocean-blue eyes, and a fair complexion. As she approached me cautiously, I could see the fear of my unpredictable movements in her eyes. Distrust surged within me, and I pointed my gun at her.
“Wait! Let me show you something,” she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a picture.
Carefully, she handed it to me. The image revealed me and her, both smiling, with the words “My Friend” written at the bottom.
I studied her face and felt a glimmer of trust begin to form. In one swift motion, she took the gun from my grasp, and I could only watch as she did so. She took my hand and led me up the stairs, leaving that bastard behind in agony.
Once we reached the top, she sat me down on the bed, staring deeply into my eyes.
“We have an important mission today! Let me explain!”
I sat there, staring blankly at her, ready to remember everything once again.
