On a quiet night in the capital city, Noxar, Filippo was sitting in his home, smoking a cigarette like he always did. He leaned back on his couch while watching TV. The place was completely silent. The only sounds were his heavy breathing and the soft crackle of burning tobacco. But the peace didn't last long…
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Filippo frowned in annoyance when he heard the knocking. He sighed sharply, stood up, put out his cigarette in the metal ashtray on the table, and slowly walked to the door and opened it.
Filippo (in a rough, tired voice): "Who the hell is knocking at my door at this hour?"
But he froze for a moment when he saw who was there… Two men in police uniforms were standing outside, staring at him coldly. Filippo's annoyance slowly turned into quiet concern.
Officer 1 (formally): "You're Filippo-san, correct?"
Filippo (nervously): "Yes, that's me. What's going on?"
The first officer looked at his partner, who pulled out a small notebook and began reading from it clearly.
Officer 2: "We're from the city police. We came to talk to you about your son, Akira."
Filippo's face went blank when he heard that name… A few long seconds passed before he finally replied.
Filippo (coldly): "My son? What about that kid?"
The two officers exchanged glances before the first one continued.
Officer 1: "He was arrested a few days ago for committing a series of violent crimes in the capital. He's now being held at our main detention center. We were surprised no one came to ask about him, so we came here to inform you, Filippo-san."
Filippo didn't react right away. He took a deep breath and then gave a short, mocking laugh.
Filippo (with a sarcastic smile): "Hah, so he finally did it, huh? I knew that brat would end up causing trouble."
His voice was annoyingly uncaring, as if the news didn't bother him at all. Officer 1 raised an eyebrow, surprised by Filippo's reaction.
Officer 1: "Filippo-san, this isn't a small matter. Your son seriously injured several civilians and even attacked officers during the arrest. We're here to officially inform you of his situation and… to ask if you'd like to take any responsibility for him before we decide what happens next."
Filippo (laughing, looking at the officers with disgust): "Take responsibility? You must be joking, officer. That kid is not my son. He never was, and he never will be."
The two officers exchanged another look, and then Officer 2 spoke sharply.
Officer 2: "Sir, no matter how you feel, you can't deny you're his father. You are responsible for him, whether you like it or not."
But Filippo laughed again, even louder, then looked at them like they were fools.
Filippo: "Listen closely… That thing was never part of me. I was just an idiot who got involved with a werewolf, and now I'm paying the price. Do whatever you want with him. Kill him, jail him, send him to hell… I don't care."
The officers fell silent, staring at the man in front of them. They had expected normal reactions from a father—shock, denial, sadness… but none of that came. Filippo was just a cold man who didn't care at all about his son. Officer 1 closed his notebook and looked at Filippo with a face trying to hide his anger.
Officer 1: "Understood… there's nothing else to say."
He turned to his partner and signaled to leave. As they were walking away, they heard Filippo's voice behind them, speaking coldly.
Filippo: "Oh, and by the way… don't bother telling me when you execute him. I won't care."
The officers didn't reply. They kept walking until they reached the street. Officer 1 pulled out a cigarette, lit it quietly, and took a drag.
Officer 2 (angrily): "That bastard… how can he be so heartless toward his own son?! He's…"
Officer 1 (cutting in): "Don't think too much about it. I've seen many like him… some humans are worse than monsters."
He slowly exhaled the smoke, looking at the dark sky.
One month later, in the morning, the mood inside the detention center was tense. In the officer meeting room, the high-ranking officer sat staring at reports on the table, while a guard stood beside him.
Officer (coldly): "It's time to end this."
Guard (hesitantly): "Sir… you mean…?"
The officer slammed the file shut and looked the guard straight in the eyes.
Officer: "Yes. We'll carry out the execution. All options have been reviewed. We can't keep him locked up forever, and we can't risk letting him live. That thing is not a child. He's a danger to society. His execution will happen in three days."
Guard (quietly): "Will it be public?"
Officer: "Of course not. It will be done in his cell. No ceremony, no announcement."
He placed his hands on the table, then looked at the group of guards on the other side of the room.
Officer: "Prepare everything and keep him under strict watch. We don't want any problems in the next three days."
Guard: "Yes, sir!"
In Akira's cell, the boy lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He could hear the whispers between the guards. Suddenly, one of the guards stopped in front of his cell and stared at him.
Guard: "Your execution has been scheduled, monster."
Akira slowly raised his eyebrows, then gave a small smile, as if the news didn't surprise him at all.
Akira (calmly): "Oh? When?"
Guard (arrogantly): "In three days. Get ready for your end."
Akira stayed silent for a moment, then let out a small laugh, like the guard had just told a joke.
Akira (cheerfully): "Three days? That's a long time, don't you think? I was hoping you'd do it tomorrow. I'm getting bored here."
The guard looked at him with disgust, then walked away.
Akira (whispering to himself): "Three days… more than enough."
He reached for the hidden opening in the wall and touched the sharp sticks he had made. He felt their sharpness and smiled wider.
Akira (quietly and slyly): "Time to play."
Akira had collected a lot of lollipop sticks over the past month. He now had enough to make a deadly weapon. He carefully took them out, then started tying them together using small strings he had torn from his blanket. After hours of work, he created a large knife-like weapon with sharp ends. He hid the weapon inside the wall opening, closed it, and returned to his bed as if nothing had happened.
Three days later, it was time for Akira's execution. The high-ranking officer walked down the hallway, followed by armed guards and the young officer, who looked nervous even though he tried to hide it. The officer held a heavy silver gun and had no hesitation.
When they reached Akira's cell, the guards exchanged uncertain glances. The prison was strangely quiet.
Officer (calmly, to the guard): "Open the door."
The guard nodded, then slowly unlocked the heavy door with a shaky hand. Akira was sitting in the corner, his back against the wall, staring at the ground. But when he saw the officer and the guards enter, his eyes went wide, and his body began to tremble. He threw himself to the floor and started crying loudly.
Akira (crying): "No! I don't want to die! Please! Don't do this! I… I didn't mean to! I was just scared! Please, give me another chance!"
Akira's small body trembled as he hugged his knees to his chest, hiding like a weak child who had lost all his strength. His breathing was fast, and his eyes were full of tears running down his cheeks. The officer watched him silently, his face showing no emotion. The guards looked at each other, some starting to hesitate and even feel sorry for the boy.
Guard (nervously): "Sir… d-don't you think maybe—"
Officer (sharply interrupting): "Don't be fooled by him."
He slowly raised his gun and pointed it at Akira's head. Akira was still on the floor, crying and shaking like a scared little kid.
Akira (raising his head, tearfully): "No… don't do it… please!"
Officer (calmly): "Your time is up, little monster."
But… before he could pull the trigger, something unexpected happened. In a split second, Akira stopped crying completely. His expression changed instantly. He was no longer the crying, weak child. Instead, a small, sneaky smile appeared on his face—full of trickery and darkness.
Akira (calmly, like he hadn't been crying): "You fell into the trap, Mister Officer."
Before anyone could understand what was happening, Akira moved at an unbelievable speed! In one motion, he pulled out the weapon he had made from sharpened lollipop sticks, tied tightly together like deadly nails—and attacked.
Akira (yelling with excitement): "Surprise!!"
With one fast move, he stabbed the weapon into the officer's chest without mercy!
"Aaaahh!!"
Akira quickly pulled the weapon out. The officer stepped back, grabbed his chest in pain, and dropped his gun as blood poured out. Then he collapsed onto the floor. The guards were in shock—they didn't have time to react. Before they could lift their weapons, Akira had already attacked again!
He jumped on the closest guard and stabbed him in the neck with the sharp weapon.
"Gggh—!!"
The guard froze, then fell to the ground, dying.
Akira (with a crazy smile): "Did you really think I'd die that easily?"
Guard 1 (terrified, raising his gun): "Shoot him!!"
But it was too late. Akira suddenly grabbed the second guard and used him as a human shield!
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
The bullets hit the guard instead of Akira. The other guards began stepping back, panicking as chaos filled the room.
Akira (laughing wildly, wiping blood off his face): "Oh, I missed this feeling… freedom!"
He walked toward the third guard, who was shaking, barely able to lift his gun.
Guard 3 (stuttering): "S-stay back… you—"
He couldn't finish his sentence. Akira leapt forward like a wild beast, grabbed his head, and smashed it against the wall! The guard collapsed, motionless.
Akira took a deep breath and turned to the last remaining guard, who had already dropped his weapon and was kneeling, trembling in fear.
Last Guard (trembling, raising his hands): "Please… don't kill me…"
Akira stared at him for a second, then started laughing.
Akira (mocking, tilting his head): "Huh? You want mercy? After everything?"
He walked toward the man slowly, his eyes cold and mocking.
Akira (whispering): "I'm not like you… I don't kill the weak."
He reached down and picked up the guard's gun, then stood up again and turned his back to him.
Akira (calmly): "Go hide somewhere. Maybe you'll live to see tomorrow."
Then Akira walked slowly toward the officer, who was still alive, crawling on the floor, struggling to breathe.
Officer (coughing blood, glaring at Akira): "You… you must… die…"
Akira (smiling softly): "You already tried to kill me. You failed."
He raised the gun and pointed it at the officer's head.
Akira (quietly but deadly): "Goodbye, Mister Officer."
"Bang!!"
One shot ended everything.
"Wooo!! Wooo!!"
Suddenly, alarms echoed all over the prison. Red lights flashed, and footsteps filled the halls. Police officers were running everywhere, yelling orders, searching for the little werewolf boy who had killed their men without mercy.
Akira ran as fast as he could, trying to find an exit.
Akira (to himself, panting): "Damn… why is this place so big?!"
He turned a corner and froze. Five police officers were standing right in front of him, weapons pointed straight at him.
Officer 1 (angrily): "Stop right there, monster!"
Officer 2 (aiming his gun): "Fire!!"
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Bullets flew through the air. Akira barely managed to jump to the side, but he wasn't lucky enough—one bullet hit his shoulder!
"Aaaah!!"
Akira screamed as the burning pain shot through him. But he didn't stop running.
Akira (gritting his teeth): "Not now… I won't die here!"
He jumped over a table and dashed toward a large glass window at the end of the hallway. The police were behind him, still shooting, but he didn't look back.
Akira (clutching his wound, breathing hard): "The exit… there it is!"
Using all the strength he had left, he jumped straight into the window! The glass shattered into thousands of pieces as his body flew through the air. He fell from the second floor and rolled hard on the ground—but he never stopped. Rain poured down heavily, and the streets were almost empty at that late hour.
Akira (softly, smiling through the pain): "I made it…"
He stood up quickly, then ran into the dark city streets, leaving behind the bodies, blood, and chaos he had created. After some time, he was far from the prison, his small body covered in injuries, his legs barely able to carry him.
He found himself in a narrow, empty alley. It was dark and smelled like mold and dirty water—but Akira didn't care. It was the perfect place to hide. He sat on the ground, leaning back against the wall. He was breathing heavily and finally started to feel how much pain he was in.
Akira (breathing hard, looking at his bleeding wound): "This… this is bad… really bad…"
He slowly raised his shaky hand and bit the sleeve of his shirt, tearing it off to see the wound. Blood was slowly flowing, and the bullet was still inside him. He felt sick just looking at it, but he had no choice… He had to take it out himself.
Akira (voice trembling): "I can do this… I just… can't think too much… No one's going to help someone like me…"
He took a deep breath and pushed his small fingers into the wound, trying to find the bullet.
"Aaaaah!!"
His whole body froze. The pain was worse than he imagined. He shook all over, and tears streamed down his face, but he was determined to fix himself.
Akira (biting his lip so hard he almost bled): "No… I have to… keep going… I… won't be weak!"
He tried again. His little finger touched the metal of the bullet, and the pain got even worse. He wanted to scream but covered his mouth with his other hand. He didn't want the police to hear him.
Akira (quietly, tears falling): "Ah… Mom… it hurts… it hurts so much… Mom… why did you leave me to live all this alone…"
He kept moving the bullet until he felt it come loose from his flesh. Finally, he grabbed it and slowly pulled it out.
"Tsssss!"
The blood-covered bullet finally came out and fell to the ground with a soft clink. Akira looked at it with tired eyes.
Akira (shaky voice): "I did it… finally…"
After that, he couldn't fight the exhaustion anymore… His eyes closed, and his head dropped back as he lost consciousness.
Akira woke up to the cold morning air. His breathing was slow and heavy, and he felt very dizzy. He slowly opened his eyes and saw the old wall of the alley where he spent the night.
"I'm… still here?"
He moved a little, but his injured shoulder hurt badly. He looked at the wound—some of the blood had dried, but it was still open and swollen.
Akira (weakly, staring at his shaking hand): "No one… helped me?"
He stood up and realized his home was close by. Holding his bleeding shoulder, he walked slowly. His eyes looked tired, and luckily, no one noticed him on the street. After a few minutes, he reached the house. He didn't even knock. He pushed the door open and almost fell to the floor. He was breathing heavily, his body covered in blood and wounds. The sudden movement made his wound open again.
Sweat dripped from his forehead. Filippo, sitting in his chair smoking, stared at Akira in shock—something rare for him. For once, he didn't look cold—he looked nervous.
Filippo (quietly, surprised): "Akira?!"
Akira slowly lifted his head and looked at his father with a blank expression.
Filippo (stepping closer, seeing the blood): "What's all this blood? You're supposed to be in prison… How did you get out?!"
Akira (weakly, voice broken by pain): "I… escaped…"
Akira almost fell but held himself up.
Akira (breathing hard, looking up): "And I killed them too."
Filippo froze. His eyes widened, and he couldn't hide the tension on his face.
Filippo (sharply, trying to stay calm): "Killed who?!"
Akira (with a weak smile, blood on his lips): "All of them… everyone who stood in my way… the officer… the guards… the police…"
Filippo stared at his son… but he didn't see a child anymore—he saw a dying little monster. In that moment, Akira's body suddenly collapsed to the floor.
Akira (whispering, pressing his bleeding wound): "Dad… I think… I'm going to die here… finally… you'll be free of me…"
His body trembled, his face pale like the dead, and his breathing was uneven. Filippo wasn't the type to show emotions, but he stood frozen, not knowing what to do. His eyes showed a tension he hadn't felt in years… This child he always saw as a burden was now on the edge of death right in front of him.
He took one step forward, then stopped, looking down at Akira's small body, wounded and fragile. Just a child… turned into a monster by the life he was forced to live.
Filippo (softly, rough voice): "Damn it…"
Akira (weak, smiling bitterly): "Dad… why… do you look nervous? Isn't this… what you always wanted?"
Filippo tensed up. His hand clenched tightly, but his face didn't change. Akira began to lose feeling in his body. His vision blurred.
Akira (softly): "It hurts… I didn't think… dying would feel like this…"
Finally, Filippo moved. He sat beside Akira and looked at him. He didn't know why, but something strange filled his chest. It wasn't pity… not love either… but it wasn't coldness. Akira had fallen into darkness. Filippo reached out and touched his forehead—his skin was cold, like life was leaving him. Then he placed his hand on Akira's chest and felt a weak heartbeat.
Filippo (quietly): "Damn you, little brat… even in death, you're a pain."
Filippo thought this would be easy. He should've felt relief seeing the boy who caused him so much trouble dying. But all he felt was a strange heaviness in his chest.
Finally, he made his choice. He picked up Akira's body and carried him outside.
Filippo (firmly): "You're not dying that easily, damn it."
He walked through the streets carrying his son, heading to the only place that might save him—before it was too late. He started running without even realizing it. He reached a small clinic at the edge of the neighborhood. He burst through the door. An old man with gray hair and glasses stood there in a doctor's coat.
Doctor (frowning): "Filippo? I haven't seen you in years… What's going on?"
The doctor looked at Akira's bloody body in his arms. His eyes widened, then he sighed and opened the door fully.
Doctor (nervously): "Bring him in, quickly—before anyone sees."
Filippo entered and laid Akira on the bed. The doctor immediately began checking him. He tore open his clothes and cleaned the blood from his shoulder.
Doctor (worried): "He's lost a lot of blood… How is he still alive?"
Filippo didn't answer. He stood silently, arms crossed, watching. After a moment, the doctor suddenly paused, his eyes full of shock.
Doctor (touching the wound): "Wait… this can't be…"
Filippo: "What? What's wrong?"
Doctor (unsure): "The bullet… it's not here."
Filippo froze, stepping closer.
Filippo: "What do you mean? The police shot him, didn't they?!"
Doctor (examining the wound): "Yes… there should be a bullet in his shoulder. But it's gone. Like someone took it out."
He looked closer and saw strange scratch marks—like someone had dug into the wound with claws… or fingers. He looked at Akira's tired, painful face.
Doctor (amazed): "It can't be… Did he take it out himself? These marks… they look like claws."
Filippo's eyes widened. He didn't say anything, but chills ran through his body. Was his son really that strong? He had thought Akira was just a strange-looking kid… but he was wrong. The boy had pulled a bullet out of his own body… survived all that pain… alone… with no help… no medicine… just strength and instinct.
In that moment, Filippo realized something… Akira wasn't just a normal kid.
The doctor took a deep breath and started treating the wound.
Doctor (wrapping the bandage): "This boy isn't normal, Filippo. Any other child would've died by now. He's clearly been wounded for hours, but his body handled more than it should."
Filippo stayed quiet, watching. For the first time, he truly started to think differently. Akira wasn't just a "mistake." He was something else. After a few minutes, the doctor finished and wiped sweat from his forehead.
Doctor: "I've done all I can. He needs rest… He can't take more injuries like this or even his strong body will give out. I don't know what happened to this kid… but if he stays on this path, this won't be the last time you see him almost dead."
Filippo (quietly): "I know… Keep this between us. No one can know he's here."
The doctor quietly placed an oxygen mask over Akira's face and hung up an IV beside the bed. He glanced at Akira's pale face—he was breathing better now.
Doctor (softly): "How long will you keep fighting, kid?"
The doctor left the room, and Filippo was alone with his son. He looked at Akira, who was lying still. For the first time since his birth, Filippo saw his son up close—not as a burden, but as his son.
He slowly reached out and touched Akira's messy black hair. It was soft, despite the rough life. He ran his fingers through it, then gently held Akira's small cold hand. He couldn't deny it anymore… this child—the one everyone rejected—was still fighting to survive.
Filippo (whispering): "How blind I've been…"
He kept looking at Akira's hand, remembering all the pain he caused him—years of neglect, anger, and harsh words. And now, Akira lay between life and death, still fighting—just like he had since the day he was born.
Something heavy filled Filippo's chest. Regret? Sadness? Guilt? He didn't know. But he gently squeezed Akira's hand and felt its weak pulse.
Filippo (barely audible): "I'm… sorry, Akira."
Three days later, Akira's body started to move slowly. His eyebrows tightened a bit, and then he slowly opened his eyes. At first, everything was blurry. Then, he saw a white ceiling and a bright, annoying light.
Akira (soft voice): "Where… am I?"
He tried to lift his hand, but it felt too heavy—like his whole body was chained down. It took him a few seconds to remember everything: the escape, the fight, the wound, the blood… and then collapsing in front of his father.
When he realized it all, he tried to sit up quickly—but a sharp pain shot through his body.
"Ah…!"
Akira gasped and squeezed his eyes shut from the pain. Suddenly, he heard footsteps coming closer. He lifted his head slightly and saw someone standing next to him.
It was Filippo.
But this time, Filippo didn't look cold like usual. He looked at Akira with a strange expression—full of stress, worry, and maybe… something else Akira couldn't understand.
Filippo (calm, serious voice): "You're finally awake."
Akira stared at him in silence. His mind was still fuzzy, but he noticed that Filippo looked tired, like those three days had been hard on him too.
Akira (tired but sarcastic): "Oh… so I didn't die? What a shame."
Filippo frowned a little, then sat on the chair beside the bed, still looking at Akira.
Filippo (quietly, with a heavy tone): "Why did you take the bullet out yourself?"
Akira froze for a moment—he didn't expect that question. Then, he gave a weak smile.
Akira (softly): "Because I didn't want to die… not in that awful place."
There was a long silence. Then Akira took a deep breath and asked in a quiet voice:
Akira: "Why… did you save me?"
Filippo didn't answer right away. He took a slow breath and looked away, as if he didn't know the answer himself.
Filippo (looking away): "I don't know…"
Those three words shocked Akira more than anything else. For the first time, Filippo didn't have a cold, direct answer. Akira stared at his father, trying to read his face, but couldn't figure out anything. Still, there was something different in Filippo's eyes—something that wasn't there before.
Akira (weak, sarcastic smile): "Hah… I guess I made things hard for you, huh? You had to choose between letting me die… or saving me."
Filippo lowered his head slightly, staring at the floor. He didn't know what to say.
Akira: "But why are you even worried? Isn't this what you always wanted? For me to disappear… to stop existing…"
Filippo suddenly looked up, as if those words woke something inside him.
Filippo (quietly, but with a new tone): "You really don't get it… do you?"
Akira (surprised): "What? What do you mean?"
Filippo: "When I saw you come into the house… covered in blood, barely able to stand… I realized I might actually lose you. And when you collapsed… when you said I'd finally be free if you died… I didn't feel that way."
Akira stared at his father, wide-eyed. He wasn't used to hearing Filippo speak like this. He wasn't used to being the center of his attention—not even for a moment.
Filippo (softly): "You're my son, in the end."
Akira stayed silent for a while. Then, he lowered his eyes and let out a quiet breath.
Akira (softly, but with a new kind of tone): "Even if you saved me this time… it doesn't change anything. I'll never forgive you. Everything I went through, everything that happened to me… every piece of me that broke… it was because of you. You let me live this way. You made me believe I was worthless. You pushed me to the edge more than anyone else."
Filippo kept looking at him in silence, but his fingers were clenched slightly, as if he was trying to stay calm.
Akira (looking directly into his father's eyes): "So even if you saved me now, even if you care a little… I'll never forgive you."
His voice was steady—not angry, not hateful—just a cold truth. They looked at each other for a few moments before Filippo turned his eyes away and spoke.
Filippo (quietly): "I expected that…"
To be continued…