Raindrops slid down the glass window, sketching crooked lines. In the corner of the room, a ten-year-old boy sat hunched over his wooden desk, drawing in silence. The dim lamp above him didn't really brighten the room; instead, it revealed his features: black hair falling across his forehead, hazel eyes that looked cold, as if staring into a world no one else could see.
His name was André De Luca. A child unlike other children. He didn't run through the halls or shout in the gardens. He drew. Or he wrote. Those were his rituals , his only way to quiet the noise that no one else could hear.
His mother had left early, long before he learned how to say her name with longing. His father came and went like a passing shadow, always busy, as if the house was nothing more than a brief stop in his schedule.
As always, André walked toward the bridge that overlooked the city, where he liked to watch the sun retreat from the sky.
There, on the edge of the bridge, stood a girl about his age, but her face was alive with light. She held the railing as if embracing the whole world, her smile spilling across her cheeks. Her body was smeared with mud, but she didn't care. She was simply happy.
When she turned, she found André watching her silently. She didn't hesitate. She ran toward him with ease, as though she had known him forever. His eyes widened, not in fear, but in wonder at her boldness.
She came closer than he expected, her smile never leaving her face. Her voice was soft, almost like music.
"You came to watch the sunset, didn't you?"
He nodded, trying to keep his distance, but she grabbed his hands without thinking. The mud smeared onto him, as if she wanted to share a piece of her world.
Her eyes sparkled as she whispered with sharp, childlike honesty,
"I love watching it too."
"Th… that's great," André murmured, his voice barely escaping his lips.
Her smile widened, as if those few words were all she needed. She held his hand and pulled him with her, offering no explanation.
He stumbled behind her, hesitant.
"Where are you taking me?" he asked, his eyes wide with awe.
She tilted her head, her smile mysterious.
"You'll see."
They walked together through the alleys until they reached a wide square filled with colorful playground rides. It was almost empty, with only the wind whispering through the swings.
André stopped, confused.
"What are we supposed to do here?"
She didn't answer. She ran to the swing, sat down, and began to sway lightly, grinning as if she owned the world. Then she shouted with uncontainable excitement,
"We're going to play! Come on, push me!"
André couldn't ruin her fun, so he followed and pushed her gently, her laughter ringing through the empty square as she shouted,
"Higher!"
From that day on, the girl became part of his daily life. Almost every morning she appeared, pulling him into her little world of joy. Bit by bit, she added a new color to his life, a color he had never known before the color of laughter and simplicity.
But one day, she came to him looking nothing like herself. She wore strange black clothes, her face pale like a distant shadow. She walked to him slowly, then threw herself into his arms, tears streaking her cheeks.
In a hoarse voice, she said,
"I'm leaving this city today"
André froze, confusion filling his eyes.
"Why? Where are you going?"
Her voice trembled, as if searching for an answer she didn't have.
"I don't know"
She reached into her pocket with a shaking hand and pulled out a strange iron pendant. She pressed it into his hands and whispered,
"This is for you , a gift."
He looked up at her, but behind her stood a silent woman, tall and unfamiliar, like a shadow that didn't belong. She stared at the girl for a moment, then spoke firmly.
"Come. We're leaving."
The girl waved at him, tears breaking her voice as she ran away.
"Goodbye!"
André stood frozen until she disappeared, then sighed heavily and headed home as the sun set. The sky had turned into a dark canvas streaked with fading light, as if the day itself was saying farewell.
When he entered the house, he noticed one of the curtains pulled back, a sign his father had returned. His heart leapt with a long-forgotten anticipation.
In the living room, he found his father seated calmly in a chair, absorbed in a book. André rushed to him, shouting with uncontained joy.
"Dad! You're back!"
His father, Ricardo De Luca, raised his eyes from the book, set it aside, and smiled, patting his son's head gently.
"Look who it is ,my little lion."
André's eyes lit up with pure happiness. He grinned.
"Wait, I want to show you something!"
He ran to his room, returned with a piece of paper, and held it up proudly.
"I drew this for us!"
Ricardo's eyes widened as he took the drawing carefully. A soft, sorrowful smile tugged at his lips. The sketch was simple but heartfelt a family portrait, brimming with longing. Guilt weighed on him; he had left his son alone far too often.
"It's beautiful," he said softly. "Truly beautiful."
André sat beside him, face glowing with innocence.
"You know, Dad?
When I grow up… I'll be great like you!"
Ricardo's eyes widened in surprise, then softened into a warm smile. He rested a hand on his son's shoulder.
"No , you'll be greater. Stronger than I ever was, André."
Suddenly.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The steady rhythm echoed through the house, deliberate and unsettling. Ricardo's gaze turned serious as he looked at his son.
"They're my friends. Go open the door."
André skipped to the door, excitement sparkling in his eyes. He opened it to find three familiar faces ,his father's friends. One bent slightly, tousling André's hair with a half-smile.
"Look at you , already a fine young man."
André smiled innocently and stepped aside to let them in. Their heavy footsteps echoed through the hall until they entered the living room, where Ricardo waited. Ricardo glanced at his son and motioned firmly but gently.
"To your room now. We have important matters to discuss."
André obeyed without protest. He shut the door behind him and returned to his desk, still glowing with pride from his father's praise. He opened his notebook and began scribbling, inspiration buzzing in his young mind.
But the peace didn't last.
Bang!
The gunshot shattered the silence like thunder. André's pen slipped from his trembling fingers. His heart pounded wildly, his mind instantly knowing where the sound had come from.
He bolted from his chair and raced down the hall.
When he entered the living room, the sight before him froze his body. His father lay sprawled on the floor, blood pooling beneath him, while the three so-called friends stood over him, guns in hand.
A broken whisper escaped André's lips.
"D… Dad"
Then it tore from his chest in a scream.
"DAD!"
The men turned slowly toward him. One smirked with cruel amusement.
"Well, well . the boy saw everything."
Ricardo, bleeding heavily, clung to his last breath. With all his strength, he lifted a trembling hand toward his son. His voice cracked.
"RUN… run, André"
André staggered backward until his back hit the wall. His body shook violently. A vase toppled beside him, shattering into sharp fragments. He collapsed onto his knees, gasping, his hands trembling uncontrollably.
The three men approached with sick delight, their faces twisted in monstrous smiles. Driven by terror, André snatched up a shard of glass. He lunged desperately, slashing one across the face. The man recoiled, screaming in rage and pain.
Seizing the chance, André bolted out the door, his heart hammering as the night swallowed him. Two of the men chased after him, leaving their wounded companion behind. Their heavy footsteps thundered closer, shadows closing in.
One raised his gun, no longer patient.
Bang!
The bullet tore through André's leg. He fell hard, dirt scraping his face, a cry of agony ripping from his throat.
"No , I won't fall." He whispered it through clenched teeth as he dragged himself forward. But the footsteps caught up. A gun pressed to his head.
"Are you insane? He's just a kid!" one hissed.
"What do you suggest? Let him run?" the other barked.
A beat of silence. Then the decision.
"We'll hand him to the Black Beast gang."
A wicked grin spread across the man's face as they closed in.
"No! Get away from me!"
MAndré screamed, but his cries were muffled when rough hands bound him and a cloth was forced over his mouth. The world spun. Darkness swallowed him.
When he awoke, he was chained, wrists and ankles bound in cold iron. The air reeked of rust and filth. His leg throbbed from the gunshot, pain sharper than anything he had ever known.
"Where am I? What the hell this place?" His voice cracked in fear.
His father's face flashed in his memory, lying on the floor, eyes filled with love even as life slipped away. The emptiness tore him apart. He screamed, his voice echoing off the filthy walls.
"DAD!"
The door creaked open. A man stepped inside. His hair was slicked strangely, a black wolf tattoo gleaming on his neck.
"What's with all that f**king screaming, huh? It almost reached the end of the compound," the man growled.
André trembled, anger tangled with fear. He shouted louder this time.
"Where am I? What do you want from me?"
The man stepped closer, slow and deliberate. He pressed a finger to André's lips with mocking calm.
"Shhh .
no questions here."
"Let me go! Who are you?" André cried, voice breaking.
The man scowled, then struck him across the face.
"Shut up, you miserable brat! Your screaming is pathetic"
The door swung open again. Another man entered, his presence chilling the room. His platinum hair was neatly tied back, his strange smile hovering between mockery and mystery. He walked with unnerving composure.
"Still bullying children, Enzo?"
Enzo sneered.
"What do you want, Daniel?
Can't you see I'm enjoying myself?"
Daniel ignored him, his voice calm but firm.
"Doesn't matter. The boss wants to see the boy."
He moved to André and lifted him carefully, though every touch sent fresh pain shooting through André's wounded leg.
Enzo sighed in annoyance and left the room, muttering.
"
"Shit ! , You ruined my fun"
André thrashed weakly.
"Where are you taking me?"
Daniel didn't answer. He led him into a smoke-choked room. A massive man sat in a chair, one leg crossed over the other, cigarette dangling between his fingers. His eyes gleamed with predatory interest as they landed on André.
A slow, crooked smile spread across his face.
"Hmm,
So this is the boy."
André froze, fear widening his eyes. The man rose, grabbed his cheeks roughly, squeezing as if handling a toy, then laughed with chilling delight.
"Oh , Look at you , those killer eyes. Perfect.
I think I just hit the jackpot."
André glared at him through his terror, breath ragged. The man straightened, his voice cold and commanding.
"Daniel, Enzo. Take him to the special cell. Make sure he learns everything."
André shuddered, whispering to himself.
"Damn , What is this place?"
Enzo grabbed him by the neck, dragging him away.
"Yes, sir."
Daniel lingered, watching the boss with uneasy eyes. His voice was low.
"Why the special cell, Lord Dante?"
Dante turned, laughing darkly, his eyes glinting with malice.
"Because this boy is Ricardo De Luca's son. You already know Ricardo was the head of the strongest gang in Casalini. Now that those fools killed him, we'll control the boy and make him our trump card. His father's blood runs in his veins. Skills like that can't be wasted."
Then ,his laughter rang through the smoky room as he lit another cigarette.
Daniel said nothing.
He turned and left, his calm steps betraying nothing. But when he reached the door, his face shifted ,caught somewhere between unease and anticipation.