Chapter 12: Memory I
What is a human being?
A fragile vessel made of many parts—yet two reign supreme: the mind, and the heart.
Yes, emotions. They are the true architects of mankind, the invisible hands that shape societies, nurture compassion, inspire love, and weave bonds. But the same emotions that build can also destroy.
How many have died for love? How many have stolen for wealth? How many have bled for those they cherished? Man, woman, beast—it matters not. Before emotion, reason falters. Before desire, all restraints crumble.
And now… Aydin carried none of these so-called emotions. What once defined him had been stripped away, leaving only a bottomless abyss that had long been sealed, now cracked open, vomiting forth what lay buried.
He felt unshackled. Liberated. No law to bind him, no family to worry over—nothing at all.
Like a prisoner released after centuries in the dark, he tasted freedom. Yet how absurd was this feeling for a boy not yet twenty? How could a teenager know such thirst for blood?
He had no answer. The moment he saw the blood he spilled when killing Rob, his world spun, and the cheerful boy was gone.
He remembered. He understood.
The bright, witty, kind-hearted youth had been reborn as something else—violent, ravenous for blood.
It was a grotesque transformation.
"Ha… ha ha! Beautiful! Ha ha ha! Yes, this is what you deserve!"
He had lost his mind. Nothing remained in his thoughts but the hunger to kill.
"Revenge! Revenge!"
Tears welled in his eyes, cascading down his cheeks as he howled in agony:
"Yes! I'll avenge you… all of you who were wronged… but not like this!"
"Yes!"
His sobs shook him.
"I will… save you!"
"Mother… Father…"
He wept harder.
"Ahh… this can't be true!"
Clutching his head, he writhed—not from physical wounds, but from the flood of memory searing his mind.
He remembered everything. From the sight of blood, he recalled the truth. He remembered why his home was gone. He remembered where his family was.
They were… in the sky.
This truth crushed him.
Behind the mask of the good boy lay another persona, buried deep. A creation not of his family, but of society.
A society that glorified violence, drenched children in blood through screens, and lulled parents into neglect. Out of such soil, monsters bloomed—children with hearts wired to destruction, shaped by nothing more than "innocent cartoons." Or so the world wished to believe.
But Aydin was not such a child. He had been loved—by his mother, his father, his two little sisters. He was raised with warmth, with respect, with laughter.
So why now… this savagery?
To answer that, we must return ten years…
---
Aydin, as a child, was radiant. Cheerful, gentle, and brimming with kindness, his smile was a gift he gave freely to all.
Everyone adored him—family, neighbors, classmates. Even animals flocked to him, drawn as if to a beacon of joy.
But fate does not bend to will. As the saying goes, the wind does not blow as the ships desire.
One afternoon, after school, Aydin waited as always for his father.
His father arrived on time—as he always did. He had never been late. That was who he was: a dependable, wonderful father.
The boy climbed into the car, and they began their familiar drive home, their ritual conversation filling the air.
"How was your day, son?"
"Great, as always! Do you know why?"
"Hmm… let me guess. Another perfect grade?" his father teased with a smile.
Aydin puffed his cheeks adorably. "Hmph! Dad, you always ruin my surprises!"
"Hahaha! Is that really worth such a face?"
"No! I just wanted to surprise you all!"
His round cheeks puffed like fresh bread, making his father laugh.
"Alright, alright. Pretend I didn't guess—surprise me now."
"Hmph! Not falling for that again! You tricked me once before. Never again!"
"Hahaha! Smart boy, aren't you?"
Aydin grinned slyly. "I'll surprise Mom instead. Don't you dare spoil it!"
"Yes, sir, Mr. President!"
And so their laughter carried them all the way home.
Ten minutes later, they arrived. Aydin hopped out, opening the garage.
A minute passed. Then… everything ended.
Eager, he ran to the door and knocked.
*Knock. Knock. Knock.*
No answer.
"Strange… maybe they didn't hear?"
He knocked again, harder.
Still silence.
"Why isn't Mom opening…?"
His father walked up, brow furrowed. "Odd. I left everyone here before I came for you."
Perhaps his wife was on the phone, his daughters lost in their screens. So he pounded on the door himself.
"Emilia! Open up!"
Silence.
The man's chest tightened. Even distracted, his daughter should have heard. A gnawing dread filled him.
With shaking hands, he unlocked the door. Forcing calm, he told Aydin, "Son, stay here. I'll fetch your mom and sisters."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just… a surprise." His words faltered into a whisper only he heard: "Please, let it be nothing."
The boy, innocent, nodded and sat upon the steps, imagining candy, toys, or a trip. His mind was a child's mind, dreaming simple joys.
Until—
*Bang!*
*Bang!*
*Bang!*
His breath caught. His eyes widened. His heart thundered. Those were not knocks. They were gunshots.
"Dad?!"
No reply.
He rose, trembling, reached for the handle. The door swung open first.
A strange smell filled his nose—sharp, metallic, suffocating.
"Dad? Mom?"
No answer. Only silence.
Step by step, he entered.
And then he saw—
His mother, collapsed in blood. His sisters, huddled together, eyes wide with terror, yet lifeless.
Air fled his lungs. His stomach turned.
"Dad!"
He stumbled through the house, calling desperately.
In the kitchen, he saw them. The legs of the man who was everything to him.
He ran forward, saw his father sprawled, hands soaked in crimson.
His father was gone.
The boy froze. His mind rejected it. His eyes stared at the pale, lifeless face.
And then he screamed. A scream ripped from his soul, a scream of loss, of terror, of unbearable grief.
His body gave way. He collapsed, sobbing, curling into himself as the truth swallowed him whole.
He was alone. Utterly alone.
And the killer… was already gone.
He lay there, broken, until strangers burst through the door.
"My God!"
"What the hell happened here?!"
"Call for help! Someone call for help!"