I Was Not Always the Devil
I remember the first time I felt pain.
It wasn't physical.
No… it was something deeper.
A betrayal.
Humans like to pretend they are good. They build laws, religions, and rules… but when darkness calls, they answer without hesitation.
I was one of them once.
A normal man.
A weak man.
I believed in justice. I believed that good would always win.
I was wrong.
That night changed everything.
Rain was falling heavily, as if the sky itself was mourning. I stood there, my hands shaking, staring at the blood on the ground.
My blood.
They laughed.
The people I trusted. The ones I called friends.
They looked at me… like I was nothing.
"Pathetic," one of them said.
That word… it broke something inside me.
I asked them "Why?"
But no one answered.
Because in this world… there is no reason. Only power matters.
And I had none.
That was the moment I died.
Not my body…
My soul.
Something inside me awakened. Something cold. Something ancient.
I heard a voice.
"Do you want revenge?"
I should have said no.
I should have walked away.
But I didn't.
I smiled.
"Yes."
And that was the moment…
the Devil was born.