Black and White

My little sister. She had been groomed for prostitution and sold to one of her bullies—a son of a politician—who frequently visited the establishment.

She had suffered years of r*pe, mockery, and abuse. The investigation unit sent me evidence and videos.

It cut deeper than any physical wounds, it hurt more than any injuries. I was torn apart from the inside out, a pain that no amount of drugs could ever dull.

I didn't know pain could kill emotions, I didn't know pain could render me numb.

She didn't deserve any of it. She was timid, meek, and quiet. Never once had she ever raised her voice, always choosing to hide behind me. That made me foolishly believe that I was the stronger, braver one between us. But...

All along, she was the braver one... she was the stronger one.

They had blackmailed her, using my life as leverage. They manipulated her into believing that she was paying for my freedom. For an older brother who left her behind, for an older brother she never knew was alive. She endured it all. Years of torment and suffering, all for the sake of protecting me.

Throughout those years, she held on, fighting.

Despite everything she had been through, she never chose to end her nightmare. She held on because she was waiting for me.

... All because she still had hope.

Yet, even after forcing hell upon her, they... My little sister was brutally m*rdered, while the monsters in human mask laughed and cheered.

And with the last report, any semblance of hope was extinguished, leaving me with a numbed skull and a void of emotion.

Before I even realized it, my mind had been driven to the brink of madness.

My makeshift families, my allies, everyone I knew within the Big Brotherhood had been mercilessly culled. Every member had been ruthlessly killed. It was the end for us.

The closing lines of the report were filled with farewells and apologies, serving as the final words of my deceased colleagues.

I was defeated. My mind went blank, and I lost all sense of self. There was nothing left... only emptiness.

I truly lost... I lost her... I lost them all... My family.

***

Born from the void, nurtured in emptiness, and thrived amidst madness.

That fateful day marked the development of his inherent mechanism, the only way his mind could shield and preserve his existence.

It was also the day his other selves came to see the light!

***

Myra Tenery returned, her hands trembling. she was nervous... I could tell.

She attempted to approach me, to warm up to me, but I stopped her.

I couldn't discern what she saw in me, but she complied.

Then, she began to recount her version of events, pointing fingers and blaming everyone but herself, as she always did.

She started by shifting the blame to Jeffrey, stating that he was the one who had sold my little sister and that she had been suffering all this time.

She continued with her act until the door was forcefully flung open.

When I turned towards the door, I saw Jeffrey, that old drunkard, pointing his dirty fingers at me, spewing a nonsensical string of words, which I still cannot recall.

However, what caught my attention was not the sight of Jeffrey or the influx of rival gang members pouring in.

No, it was the sharp pain that seared through my back.

When I turned around, I saw the knife embedded in my flesh.

I had anticipated it. A decision made by the remnants of my inner foolish self.

The pain wasn't in the stab itself, but in the realization that my own mother was the one who had stabbed me.

It was the final straw for that little boy still lingering within me.

Was I too greedy to desire a shred of love? Was I too greedy to long for a simple hug? Were these too much to ask for?

Why was it that what others took for granted, not possible for me?

"Why?" I asked.

I had never asked her anything before, but there was one instance when she showed me care.

I still wanted to believe it was a mother's compassion.

It happened when I was seven years old.

I had failed at a chore I was assigned, and in his drunken state, Jeffrey had choked me, but it was my mother who intervened and saved me, telling him not to harm the "goods."

That's why I wanted to hear her excuses. I wanted her to shed tears. I longed for her to show me even a semblance of compassion, even if it was fake.

But instead, she yelled at me, blaming me for everything. She accused me of being the problem, of not working hard enough, of not sending enough money.

She called me selfish and claimed that I hadn't compensated her enough for carrying me in her belly for nine months and raising me for twelve years. She declared that if it weren't for me, none of this would have happened.

Then, she bowed and thanked the rival gangs, eliciting a harsh comment from them.

Jeffrey, on the other hand, praised her without pause.

He ranted about how she had orchestrated everything.

He spoke of her awareness of the cruelty of the Big Brotherhood gang and how they would never accept a loss.

He revealed that she had offered her own daughter, my little sister, to be groomed for prostitution. He disclosed that after I was taken, she had initiated the sale and handed her over, ensuring that every penny I had sent for my little sister went into their hands.

He further admitted her involvement in the death of my big bro. He had taken care of me and raised me. He was my guide and the reason I was still alive.

Jeffrey claimed that she had him killed because he had become suspicious of them.

He divulged the truth about how she had double-crossed the Big Brotherhood gang and sold my little sister non-exclusively to the rival gangs.

He recounted her sins with praise, as if every harrowing truth he revealed was justified and right.

I heard it all. I saw it all. I had nothing left to lose.

The only memories I retained from that fateful day were Myra's betrayal, Jeffrey's bullet piercing my skull, and the taste of human flesh and blood on my lips.

***

I picked up the rusty knife from the table and grasped it tightly. The bitter memories were uncalled for. It reopened both old and fresh wounds.

I knew I wouldn't make it past today, I wouldn't live to see the break of tomorrow's dawn.

Today marked my final day.

With the remaining light still illuminating the room, I had to act swiftly. There was no time to waste.

Bringing the rusty knife close to his face, I lowered it slowly, until it hovered a certain point.

"You see where it's going?"

"Wait! Please! No, no, no. I can answer! I can answer all of your questions! I will obey your commands. I promise I won't make any more mistakes! Please. Please don't do this! I am truly sorry! It will never happen again!" He pleaded desperately.

"That, I am sure."

Those were the last words he would hear from me.

After this, he would face his reckoning in a manner that would make it more reminiscent of his own humanity.

He would meet his fate.

Unzipping his pants, I made sure he followed where I was going with it. His entire body shook in fear and despair.

The dull, rusty knife, its jagged blade a far cry from the sharpness required for a swift cut, was the best method of choice for torture.

I could tell by the looks on his face that he knew this process would be a painful and gruesome one. But the same couldn't be said for me.

I was prepared to take all the time I needed with him.

"AAAARGHHHH!!!"

Each cut was slow and deliberate, a painstaking process that required my utmost patience to resist the urge of slicing through it too quickly.

The bastard winced and grimaced with each and every movement of the knife, screaming and crying at the top of his lungs.

"AAAARGHHHH!!!"

His screams of agony and the sight of his pain were my liberation.

As I continued the painstaking work, I made sure to periodically clean the blade and enjoy the moment.

But as is often the case, nothing good lasts. I couldn't afford to spend all of my time on him, there were others waiting. However, there was more to pay for, this was too light. As a final display of rage, I forcefully tore away the final shreds of flesh and skin that bound it, using my bare hands to sever the connections.

"AAAAARGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!"

This elicited the most agonizing scream from him.

I was genuinely impressed by how his vocal cords held up, enduring hours of relentless, gut-wrenching screams without giving out.

His throat must have been parched by now. I didn't want him to lose his voice entirely, not just yet. So, I stuffed his mouth with a piece of his own fresh rotten meat and effectively stopped the bleeding.

It was time for him to come out as well.

"Pigs are so greedy, they have no clue how to share."

****

The moon shone more radiantly than ever. She was trying to be like the sun.

Blood on my hands, feet, mouth, and clothes. I was baptized.

Six decapitated heads tied to my waist. I was free... naked on the streets.

Pedestrians running and screaming.

I didn't care!

I was free!

Sirens rang, chaos taking over the streets. Lights flashing all around me. But I was free!

Blood couldn't look more crimison than this. So vividly scarlet.

The moon shone brilliantly, so radiant. She was trying so hard. Why was she trying so hard to emulate the sun?

Never before had blood appeared so vividly crimson. Why?

This blood... it doesn't belong to me...

"What are you looking down at, you bitch? They stole my light, while you merely borrowed yours. They took everything from me! Why must I be the sole bearer of suffering? Stealing... it feels satisfying, doesn't it? Possessing what others desire at their expense. It surely feels good, doesn't it? Damn sure it does... their blood, it tasted good. So damn good! Those swine... they tasted splendid. I'm sure you would look stunning in red as well."

Oh! Now I remember... I ate them all.

I ate each and every one of them...!!!

Only their flesh and blood can satisfy his insatiable hunger.

No! I'm NOT content!

Asu! I want to see Asu!!!