Two weeks had passed since the night Akira was nearly executed. He finally left the clinic, leaning on Filippo's shoulder. The two walked quietly through the dark street without exchanging a word, yet they both felt a sense of warmth and peace.
They arrived at a small building with a few residential apartments on the outskirts of the capital, Noxar—far from the eyes of the police, who were still searching for Akira, having labeled him as a first-degree criminal. They entered the building, and Filippo stopped beside the door of their apartment, pulled out the key from his pocket, unlocked the door, ushered Akira inside, and quickly closed it behind them.
Akira (looking around): "What is this place?"
Filippo (calmly, placing down the small bags he brought): "We'll live here for a while. The police won't find us easily."
Akira nodded silently, then sat on the small couch. Filippo sat beside him and lit a cigarette.
A month passed quickly in that new home. It was the quietest month Akira had ever experienced. What truly surprised him was the clear change in how Filippo treated him—he was no longer the cold, harsh man he used to be. He now acted gently and cautiously. He cooked meals for Akira daily, sometimes sat beside him in silence while they ate, and even helped change the bandages on Akira's wounds without complaining. Filippo didn't smile or laugh with him, but his concern was obvious.
One evening, Filippo entered Akira's room just before he went to sleep. Akira was already lying in bed, ready for the night.
Filippo (in a soft voice): "Akira, we're leaving this place tomorrow."
Akira (surprised): "To where?"
Filippo: "I'm not sure yet. But we can't stay here any longer. The police will find us eventually. We need to head somewhere safer—like Mirkovia. Yes, Duchess Terrakula lives there, but that region doesn't follow the same strict laws as the rest of Darkova."
Akira's eyes widened slightly upon hearing the name "Mirkovia." He had heard many stories about it but had never been there himself.
Akira (with obvious curiosity): "Mirkovia… isn't that the city no one dares enter?"
Filippo: "Exactly. That's why we're going. The police won't risk entering a place like Mirkovia, especially since it's under Terrakula's control. No one's brave enough to challenge her authority."
Akira looked down slightly, starting to feel anxious about the idea of moving to a city ruled by vampires, but they had no other option. Filippo slowly took out his cigarette pack, lit one, placed it between his lips, took a deep breath of smoke, then exhaled quietly into the air, staring at the floor in long silence.
Akira was unnerved by the silence, but he was surprised when Filippo suddenly moved closer and sat beside him on the edge of the bed. Filippo said nothing at first, but stared at his son's face, which bore deep traces of pain and exhaustion. Then, unexpectedly, he raised his hand and gently ran it through Akira's hair—an act of tenderness he had never done before.
Filippo (softly, his voice different from usual): "Don't worry, Akira… this time, I'll really be with you… I won't let you face everything alone again."
Akira's eyes widened in shock. His heart raced from the unfamiliar warmth he had never experienced in his life. He didn't know what to say or how to react, but he slowly surrendered to the moment he had so desperately needed. Finally, tears welled up in his eyes—though these weren't tears of pain or fear. They were gentle, quiet tears.
Akira suddenly smiled with visible sarcasm. His face wore a cold, tired smile as the tears rolled slowly down his cheeks.
Akira (with a faint, sarcastic voice): "Isn't it funny? That I feel happy just because you put your hand on my head? Am I that pathetic?"
Filippo stiffened slightly, then slowly turned to look at Akira's face, which was trying to hide its brokenness behind a sarcastic smile. Suddenly, Filippo leaned in and embraced him tightly. Akira was shocked and confused at first, but he didn't resist the warm embrace. He couldn't stop the tears from falling heavily and uncontrollably.
Filippo (in a low voice): "You're right… your life is a bad joke. But I'm the one who made it that way."
Filippo continued holding Akira tightly, the silence broken only by their quiet breathing—and the sound of the burning cigarette still between Filippo's fingers. After a while, Akira raised his head slightly to look at his father's calm face.
Akira (with a faint smirk, wiping his tears): "By the way, isn't it bad to smoke like that in front of a kid? Don't you care about my health at least?"
Filippo raised his eyebrows in surprise, then looked at the cigarette in his hand and let out a small chuckle.
Filippo (exhaling the smoke away from Akira): "You're right. You're still just a kid."
Akira (with light sarcasm): "And you only noticed now?"
Filippo (soft chuckle, then quietly smiling): "I think I've been late noticing a lot of things."
Akira looked at his father in silence. He didn't know what else to say, but he felt a strange sense of comfort. This was the kind of conversation he had always needed from his father—a conversation without anger, without shouting, without overwhelming emotions. All he had wanted was calm and peace. The two remained sitting quietly on the bed, while the smoke from the cigarette rose slowly and blended into the air.
The next morning, Akira finished packing his few belongings into his backpack. He wore winter clothes and a raincoat, while Filippo stood by the apartment door holding his suitcase, dressed similarly to Akira. The two stood side by side at the door, ready to leave. Before opening it, Filippo took a calm step toward Akira and looked at him.
Filippo (seriously, pulling something from his pocket): "Take this."
Akira looked at his father's hand and saw a small red cap. He took it slowly, then looked at him in confusion.
Akira (questioning): "A hat? Why?"
Filippo (in a slightly firm tone): "To cover your ears. We can't risk anyone discovering your identity."
Akira nodded and put the cap on his head, making sure it fully covered his ears. Filippo then pointed to his tail.
Filippo: "And your tail too. Make sure it stays hidden inside your pants at all times."
Akira (grumbling slightly): "I know… it's annoying."
Akira sighed quietly and tucked his tail into his pants, hiding it well. Filippo examined him closely, then nodded and opened the door.
Filippo: "Alright, let's go. We have a long journey to Mirkovia ahead."
The two left the apartment quietly, and Filippo shut the door behind them. The weather was rainy, as usual in Darkova. Filippo opened his umbrella above their heads, and they began walking side by side on the wet sidewalk in complete silence. But after a few moments, Akira felt Filippo's hand gently and suddenly wrap around his smaller hand. Akira lifted his head slightly and looked at his father in quiet surprise, but he said nothing, surrendering to the strange feeling of safety he had never known before.
After a few peaceful minutes of walking, they reached a busier street and began blending into the crowd. Filippo gently squeezed Akira's hand as if to remind him to stay close. Akira started to feel slightly nervous due to the number of people around him—it had been a long time since he walked in a crowd, especially as a wanted fugitive. He pulled the cap further down to ensure his ears wouldn't be seen and double-checked that his tail was hidden under his long coat.
Filippo (whispering): "Stay calm. Don't draw attention."
Akira nodded silently, and the two continued walking through the crowd without attracting any notice. But that calm didn't last long. Someone in a rush bumped hard into Akira, knocking him to the wet ground.
Akira (in pain): "Ah!"
Filippo immediately turned around in panic. Akira's cap had fallen off, revealing his wolf-like ears for all to see. In a single instant, everything froze. The people around them stopped in their tracks, staring at Akira in shock and fear.
Someone from the crowd (in fear): "He's… a werewolf!"
Screams and murmurs filled the air, and nearby police officers quickly rushed over with their weapons drawn, aiming straight at Akira, who was now trembling in fear and shock.
Officer (aiming his weapon): "Don't move!"
Filippo (urgently approaching Akira): "Get up, quickly!"
But Akira was frozen in place, staring helplessly at the officers and the people, all filled with terror and hatred toward him.
Filippo (raising his voice): "Akira! Get up now!"
The police closed in fast, weapons still trained on Akira, who remained paralyzed.
Officer (firmly, finger on the trigger): "Take him down!"
In that moment, Filippo moved with incredible speed. Without a second thought, he stepped in front of Akira and spread his arms wide to shield his son.
Filippo (shouting at the top of his lungs): "Run, Akira! Get out of here now!!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The bullets tore through Filippo's body, and blood spilled from his wounds instantly. Despite the pain, he remained standing, gasping in agony.
Akira (screaming in pain): "Dad!!"
Officer (furiously): "Get out of the way! That thing is a dangerous monster! Move or we'll kill you too!"
But Filippo didn't move an inch. Though his body was in torment, his eyes shone with an unshakable determination that had never been seen in him before.
Filippo (shaking and in pain, but resolute): "I won't move… You'll have to kill me first!"
Officer (shouting to his men): "Fire on both of them!"
The officers raised their weapons again. As they fired, Filippo rushed to Akira and embraced him tightly, turning his back to the bullets that once again pierced through him mercilessly.
"Agh!"
Filippo screamed in agony, falling slowly to his knees, still clutching Akira tightly.
Akira (trembling, eyes filled with tears): "Dad… stop… please stop…!"
Tears welled up in Filippo's eyes as he stared directly into his son's. He managed a painful, bloodstained smile, and with a voice barely audible, he whispered his final words.
Filippo (weakly, eyes drowning in tears he had never shed in life): "Akira… I just wanted… to know what it feels like… to truly be a father to you… Just once, before I died…"
His strength gave out, and his body fell to the ground, motionless. Akira froze in place as tears streamed down his cheeks. Then he let out a heart-wrenching scream, filled with sorrow, rage, and unbearable grief, before standing and sprinting through the terrified crowd—feeling like a part of him had just died with the father he had only just found.
Akira shot through the crowd like an arrow. His body moved with supernatural speed, driven by rage and sorrow. The police kept firing, but their bullets couldn't catch him. He dodged with amazing agility, and the farther he ran, the more the shouts of the police faded behind him. After several minutes of running, he realized he was out of their reach.
He stopped in an abandoned alley, leaning against the wall and panting heavily. With trembling hands, he gripped his cap tightly, then collapsed to the ground and began crying—quietly but deeply—as the rain poured down on him like the sky weeping for his loss.
Clutching his chest as if trying to stop the pain in his heart, Akira shook violently as he sobbed.
Akira (softly, crying): "Why did you do that? Did you think… I'd forgive you now? Damn you, Dad!"
He paused, wiping his tears in frustration, but they wouldn't stop falling.
Akira (broken, voice trembling): "Damn it… I'm alone again… Why was I born like this? Why couldn't I just be a normal kid? All I ever wanted was a real family, friends… a good life… but there's nothing good in my life!"
He took a shaky, deep breath, trying to cling to the last thread of strength he had left. Then he opened his eyes slowly, staring at the heavy rain in front of him, and pulled his cap down tightly over his ears.
Akira (voice trembling but full of resolve): "I have to stop crying… I won't be weak anymore. This isn't what Dad would've wanted… I must get to Mirkovia, no matter what it takes."
He quickly wiped his tears with the sleeve of his coat, then stood up with effort and started walking with heavy steps, despair etched into his face. After a while, he finally reached the train station, which was nearly empty at that time of day. Few people traveled to Mirkovia.
He stopped for a moment to catch his breath, then looked up at the departure board.
Akira (to himself, watching the board): "Mirkovia… There's my train… There's no turning back."
He quickly bought a ticket with the money he had and boarded the train, choosing a seat in the corner, away from the few passengers. He sat by the window and stared outside in silence.
Akira (whispering to himself as he watched the city fade): "Goodbye, Noxar… Goodbye, Dad… Maybe this will be the beginning I always needed…"
As the train pulled away from the station, memories of his past flashed through his mind—living with the mother who was forced to abandon him, the father who treated him poorly, and just when hope had started to shine, it disappeared again the moment his father died… the last person he had left.
When Akira arrived in Mirkovia, he had nothing but his clothes and backpack—not even enough to buy a piece of bread. He wandered the city's dark streets, filled with old gothic buildings, realizing he had no choice but to sleep under bridges and in empty alleys.
Days passed, and Akira learned how to steal food from small markets and restaurants without being noticed. But even with his skill, the fear and loneliness never left him. Every night, he curled up in a dark corner, hugging himself, trying to ignore the pain in his heart.
Akira (softly, bitterly, looking at his dirty hands): "I've become just a petty thief… I guess this really is my fate… to be alone forever."
For four years, this continued. The merchants had come to know Akira's face well—that boy with the glowing red eyes who vanished in a flash after every theft. Despite their constant attempts to catch him, he was always too fast and too clever to be caught.
As time passed, Akira became more cautious, more skilled, and at the same time, colder and more brutal. Yet deep in his heart, he held on to one desire: to one day find a place that would accept him as he was, where he wouldn't have to run or hide. He wanted to belong somewhere. But life hadn't given him that chance.
One rainy day, Akira was walking slowly, trembling from a high fever. He hadn't eaten in three full days, and his strength was nearly gone. His stomach twisted with hunger. He crept through the dark alleys and approached a food cart owned by one of the area's major merchants, who stood beside it with his 13-year-old son, Mart. Mart was infamous in Mirkovia for his bad temper and for bullying children weaker than him.
Akira approached cautiously and reached his trembling hand toward a shiny red apple. But the moment he touched it, a strong hand gripped his wrist tightly.
Mart (in an arrogant, mocking tone): "Finally caught you, you little thief!"
Akira panicked and tried to run, but he didn't have the strength to escape this time. The merchant quickly approached, glaring angrily at Akira.
Merchant (harshly): "So here you are, you damned red-eyed thief! After all the trouble you've caused us over the years!"
Akira looked at them weakly, trembling as he tried to free his hand.
Akira (in a faint, exhausted voice): "Let me go… please… I'm hungry…"
Mart burst out laughing and shoved Akira hard, knocking him into the muddy ground. His little cap fell off, revealing the ears he had tried to hide for so long. Mart's eyes widened in shock, then he laughed even louder and pointed at Akira.
Mart (mockingly): "Look at this! I didn't know we had a filthy werewolf here!"
Merchant (with disgust and anger): "You steal from us while we feed humans and vampires only? You're truly a disgusting creature!"
Akira felt deep shame and reached quickly for his cap to cover his ears again, but Mart kicked him hard, making him fall once more into the mud.
Mart (with a wicked smile): "Let's see what you'll do now, monster!"
A crowd began to gather. None of them made a move to help Akira. They simply watched in silence, waiting to see what would happen to this little werewolf who could do nothing but lie trembling in pain and sickness. His fever had reached 40°C, and his body couldn't handle it. His consciousness began to fade as Mart and his friends beat and kicked him mercilessly.
Mart (angrily kicking Akira's body): "Did you think you could steal from us without punishment, you beast?!"
Akira couldn't speak or move. Each blow was worse than the last. He felt like he was about to lose consciousness, but the pain wouldn't let him.
Mart (laughing cruelly): "He's so weak! I can't believe he's really a werewolf—he looks like a sick stray dog!"
Everyone laughed while the beating continued. Akira's tears mixed with the mud, and he could do nothing but wait for them to get bored.
But suddenly, everything stopped. The noise and mockery vanished, replaced by a heavy silence, as the sound of high heels echoed through the area. Everyone stepped back immediately, clearing a path for someone no one dared stand in the way of—the Crimson Duchess, the vampire Terrakula!
Mart and his friends froze in place, their faces pale, unable to move or speak out of fear. Terrakula approached calmly and steadily, her eyes falling on the boy lying in the mud. She looked at him with a mix of curiosity and intrigue, particularly focusing on his wolf-like ears. She raised her left eyebrow slightly, then turned a cold, sharp gaze toward Mart and the others.
Terrakula (coldly, calmly, but with clear menace): "Who gave you the right to assault a child in my city?"
Mart stepped back, trembling. He couldn't even speak. His friends began to slowly back away, abandoning him to face the duchess alone.
Terrakula turned her attention back to Akira, still lying on the ground, then leaned in slightly, inspecting him with sharp, focused eyes.
Terrakula (quietly, studying Akira's ears and features): "A little werewolf, hmm? How interesting."
She gently placed her hand on Akira's forehead and immediately felt his burning fever. Her eyes narrowed slightly, then she turned to Mart with a cold glare—but her expression carried a twisted, mocking smile.
Terrakula (softly, sarcastically): "You know, little one? You're very lucky this werewolf is sick right now… if he weren't, he could have torn you apart with a single strike."
Mart's eyes widened in terror, his face paling as he stared at Akira. He took a step back, then turned and ran away as fast as he could, his friends following behind him.
Terrakula looked back at Akira, who stared at her with half-open eyes, barely aware of what was happening. She bent down calmly and lifted his small body into her arms.
Terrakula (with a calm, mysterious smile): "Well then, little werewolf… from now on, prepare to start an entirely new life in my castle."
Akira slowly closed his eyes, feeling warmth and safety for the first time in a long while. He gave in to the exhaustion, vaguely sensing that his life would never be the same again.
After a while, Akira slowly opened his eyes and quickly realized that the place around him was unfamiliar. He was in a spacious, luxurious room with silk curtains and elegant furniture unlike anything he had ever seen. He tried to sit up but stopped when he saw Terrakula standing before him, wearing a calm, mysterious smile.
Terrakula (in a calm, confident voice): "Finally awake, little werewolf."
Akira (hesitantly): "Where… am I? Who are you? Why did you help me?"
She sat calmly on the edge of his bed.
Terrakula: "You're in my castle in Mirkovia. I am the Crimson Duchess, Terrakula. I helped you because I saw something special in you. You're not a monster like those humans believe."
Akira's eyes widened in disbelief.
Terrakula (with a slightly sinister smile): "You can stay here with me. You'll have everything you were deprived of. I'll help you get revenge on every human who hurt you. In return, you will follow all of my orders."
Akira trembled when he heard the word "revenge," and memories of all the pain and humiliation he'd suffered came rushing back. The anger returned.
Terrakula (in a seductive, soft tone): "Everyone who hurt you must pay. If you accept my offer, I'll give you the power to make them suffer. You'll be strong—no one will ever hurt you again."
Akira (softly, but with determination): "I accept… I'll make them pay."
Terrakula smiled gently, placing her hand on his shoulder.
Terrakula: "Very good, little werewolf. You've finally chosen your path."
She left the room and closed the door behind her silently, walking down the long hallway. A hidden, cunning smile crept across her face.
Terrakula (whispering to herself): "So, you're that little werewolf Akira who escaped prison four years ago… and killed dozens of officers. How fascinating… You might be stronger than I thought… and perhaps you'll be my greatest weapon against those cursed humans."
She smiled again before disappearing into the hallway's darkness.
Akira, who was once a rejected, homeless child, had now become a powerful teenager with a toned body and advanced combat skills. He had completely changed under Terrakula's care. He always wore elegant black clothes, and his black hair was neatly styled.
Akira felt no remorse when he kidnapped humans for Terrakula or even killed them when she ordered it. He felt satisfaction every time he saw the fear in their eyes. For him, this was nothing but justice for the suffering they caused him.
To Akira, Terrakula was not just his mistress—she was the only one who gave him a decent life and safety, the only person who didn't look at him as a monster. She saw his potential and strength. Following her orders became a core part of his identity, the key to his revenge on a world that had only shown him cruelty and rejection.
Years later, Steve and Nyoro arrived at the castle. For the first time, Akira realized there were others like him in the world. Their stories were somewhat similar—they too had been rejected, even by their own families. Then Terrakula gave them shelter and the attention they had long lacked.
But Akira had no idea of the truth. He didn't realize he was merely a useful tool, exploited by Terrakula for her own personal gain. She held no true feelings for him, Steve, or Nyoro. To her, they were pawns, moved as she wished to fulfill her hidden goals.
Yet all Akira wanted was love and acceptance. He couldn't see the truth behind Terrakula's sweet words and smiles. He never imagined he was just a puppet in someone else's hands.
To be continued…