Darkness swallowed him whole.
Chains melted into light.
And then — a scream.
His own.
Small. Weak. Helpless.
He was crying.
Not in pain.
Not in rage.
But because everything was wrong.
He had a body again. But it wasn't his.
He couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Couldn't kill.
And in front of him… two people.
Smiling.
A man and a woman — strangers.
Their hands didn't hit. Their eyes didn't hate.
They called him something.
A name.
He didn't understand it.
But he hated them.
He didn't know why.
Only that the feeling twisted in his gut like poison.
"I will kill them," he thought, watching them smile.
"I don't know how… but I will."
Middle: Hatred in the Cradle
He had power.
It pulsed inside him — a sleeping dragon beneath soft skin.
But he was a baby. Trapped in weakness.
He tried to reach them — to grab their throats, claw their faces, burn them alive.
But his limbs failed him.
He was too small.
Too fragile.
And it drove him mad.
He cried not for milk, not for warmth — but for rage he couldn't express.
They smiled when he cried.
That made it worse.
Then came the girl.
An older child.
Silent. Cold. Never smiled.
But always there.
She watched him like a predator.
Did she see the monster inside him?
He hated her too.
He wanted her gone.
But she never hurt him.
When he rolled off the bed, she caught him.
When he choked on his breath, she called for help.
Why?
He didn't know.
But it only made him hate her more.
Late: A Feeling He Couldn't Kill
The days passed. He began to feel… strange.
Something crawling under his skin.
Warmth.
Gentleness.
Soft hands. Kind voices.
Things he had never known.
And it disgusted him.
"What is this?""What is this feeling?""Why am I not angry all the time?"
His hatred was still there — but it flickered.
Like it was being smothered by something he didn't understand.
"No," he told himself."They are like the others. All of them lie.""I will kill them. All of them."
But each time his father lifted him…
Each time his mother kissed his forehead…
Each time his sister sat near him silently…
That feeling came again.
A feeling worse than rage.
A feeling he didn't have words for.
Closing Scene
One night, he woke from a dream.
Flames.
Chains.
His own screams.
He cried.
This time not from hate.
But fear.
The woman rushed in.
Held him. Whispered soft things.
He didn't understand the words.
But he felt them.
And that feeling…
"What is this…?"
He wanted to kill her.
But he didn't cry anymore.
Because someone came.