Chapter 1: The Boy Who Lost Everything
Chapter 1: The Boy Who Lost Everything
Winter was cruel that year.
The wind never stopped blowing, and the cold seemed to reach every corner of the small village.
At the edge of the village lived a poor family. There was a sick man, his wife, and their young son.
The villagers did not like them.
People whispered about them.
Some said they were cursed.
Some said they brought bad luck.
Others simply enjoyed having someone to blame for their problems.
None of the rumors were true.
But truth did not matter.
One day, the villagers forced the family to leave.
No one listened to their pleas.
No one offered help.
No one cared where they would go.
The family packed what little they had and left the village.
The young boy looked back only once.
He watched the village disappear behind the falling snow.
He did not understand why everyone hated them.
His father was already very sick.
Every day his condition became worse.
The cold weather made everything harder.
His mother tried her best to care for him, but she had little food, little money, and nowhere to go.
One night, his father’s fever became dangerous.
The family rushed to the nearest hospital.
The boy still remembered that night.
The freezing wind.
The dark roads.
His mother’s frightened face.
And his father’s weak breathing.
When they finally reached the hospital, they begged for help.
But the doctors refused to treat him immediately.
First, they wanted payment.
The family had no money.
Not enough.
Not even close.
The boy watched his mother cry.
He watched his father struggle to breathe.
He watched people walk past them without stopping.
No one helped.
That night, they had nowhere to stay.
They remained outside in the freezing cold.
By morning, his father’s condition had become much worse.
A few hours later, he died.
The boy never forgot the silence that followed.
It felt as if the entire world had stopped.
His father looked at him one last time.
With his final strength, he whispered,
“Stay kind... no matter what happens.”
Then he closed his eyes forever.
The boy held his father’s hand for hours.
He refused to let go.
But death did not care.
A week later, his mother died too.
The grief was too much.
She had lost her husband.
She had lost her home.
She had lost hope.
Before she died, she pulled her son close.
Tears filled her eyes.
“You are not a bad person,” she whispered.
“Promise me you will never become like them.”
The boy could not speak.
He simply nodded.
His mother smiled weakly.
Then she was gone.
Just like that.
The boy was alone.
No family.
No home.
No future.
Only pain.
For a long time, he wandered from place to place.
The villagers who had destroyed his family continued living peacefully.
They laughed.
They celebrated.
They slept without guilt.
While he suffered.
Something inside him slowly changed.
The kindness his parents loved began to disappear.
The pain remained.
The anger remained.
The hatred remained.
And with every passing year, it grew stronger.
One evening, the boy stood on a hill overlooking the village.
The same village that had taken everything from him.
Lights glowed inside the houses.
People laughed around warm dinners.
Children played in the streets.
They looked happy.
Too happy.
His hands slowly clenched into fists.
For the first time, he allowed himself to speak the words hidden inside his heart.
“If they destroyed my family...”
His voice was cold.
“...then I will destroy theirs.”
The wind howled around him.
The village continued to shine beneath the night sky.
Unaware of what was coming.
Unaware that the boy they had thrown away would one day return.
And when he did...
Nothing would ever be the same again.
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