I smiled coldly, my dark eye glowing in the shadows:
> "Why do you tremble?… You haven't seen anything yet."
The guard reached for me recklessly, and I raised my left hand…
Only then did I realize the truth.
The hand I had always felt burdened with… was never fully human.
It convulsed suddenly, pain tearing me apart from the inside.
> "My skin… it's tearing!"
I saw the flesh split open, its color turning into pitch black.
From the center of my palm, darkness burst forth, flowing like new blood in my veins.
My fingers were no longer human…
They twisted into sharp claws, black, dripping with a cold glow.
From the back of my hand, dark blades sprouted—jagged, hateful, forged from the womb of hell itself.
They rushed at me… but my body moved on its own.
The blades tore through their chests, ripped their flesh apart, as if the very air had become a weapon.
Their screams faded into the frenzy of blood, and the walls were painted a deep crimson.
One man… two… three…
They fell one after another, while my body danced in the carnage like a machine built only for slaughter.
And when it was over… silence drowned the room.
Corpses scattered, blood spilling, the air heavy with the stench of agony.
I looked at my left hand… it was no longer just a hand.
It had revealed its truth… its skill.
The wail of police sirens drew near, tearing through the night.
I stepped outside, blood dripping from my fingertips, the smile still carved into my face.
Then words escaped my chest like a funeral hymn:
> "Human? Demon?… It doesn't matter.
I was born twice… once to protect, and once to take everything away.
And if hell is my destiny… I will live it.
I will bring my family back to life…
But you, Rowen… I'm truly waiting for you.
Not for you… but for your end!"
And my laughter erupted—dark, twisted, unholy…
The laughter of a being no longer human,
but a newb
orn child… from the womb of hell.
Born only to kill.