Morning streamed gently through the white curtains of the room, while the sun's rays danced across her small face, awakening her innocent features from their slumber.
Elora opened her eyes groggily, her gaze following the golden threads that had crept in so lightly, as if whispering to her, "It's time to live."
"Elora, your breakfast is ready, my sweet!"
Her mother, Marisa's, voice rang out from downstairs, carrying a warmth unlike any other.
She sat up in bed with a soft languor, stretched with a smile, and then rose gracefully.
She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and chose a soft pink blouse and simple jeans, perfectly suited to her gentle and spontaneous spirit.
She descended the stairs lightly, her hair swaying with her, her face adorned with that pure, radiant smile.
"Good morning, Mom!"
"Good morning, Ziad!"
Her brother replied jokingly, as he munched on a warm piece of bread, "Good morning, you little rascal! What's with all the excitement?"
Elora sat at the table like a pampered princess in her own home.
She began listing her favorite things in a playful tone, teasing her mother, who was used to her childish indulgence: "I want that white cheese... the one you bought yesterday! And fresh juice too! Don't forget the baked cookies, Mum!"
Marisa laughed and shook her head affectionately: "You never change, my darling."
Elora sat down and began eating her breakfast with the eagerness of a child whose heart overflows with joy.
A piece of cheese... a sip of juice... then she turned suddenly and said with a wide smile, as if she had revealed a great secret:
"Today is my birthday!"
She raised her eyebrows in feigned childlike surprise and added, "I want a big party! I want balloons and sweets and songs... and I'll invite all my friends!"
Her father, Rami, chuckled as he peered at her from behind his newspaper. "So you can't go to school, right? You'll stay home to prepare!"
But Elora held up a finger, as if making an important announcement. "No, Dad! I have an important lesson today. I can't miss it. I'll be right back. We'll get the party ready this afternoon."
"I'll drive you," Ziad said, taking a bite of a hot pie.
But she stuck her tongue out at him and said playfully, "No, no, your job is just to think about the present!"
She stood up, packed her small bag, kissed her mother's head, and then left the house as lightly as a butterfly, her smile spreading across the sidewalk, her steps those of a child unaware that behind this day... everything would be different.
She ran lightly, her hair flying in the air, her carefully chosen new shoes clacking the ground in a joyful melody.
Life itself seemed to smile upon her, and the street appeared brighter than ever.
Elsewhere, far removed from the warmth of home and the laughter of a child, darkness reigned, and the concrete walls bore witness to unspoken secrets.
A cramped room, dimly lit corridors, and the stench of sweat mingled with smoke and dampness.
Four men in black masks, their faces hidden, their eyes gleaming with sinister intentions.
"Tonight we go out," one of them said, sharpening a long knife in his hands. "We gather our fortune and return like kings."
Another chuckled hoarsely. "Don't forget the will... We want a captivating woman. Young... petite... easy to control."
"We must move before the leader arrives," the third said anxiously. "He doesn't like to see us talking like this."
A back door slowly opened, and a heavy silence fell, as if the place had swallowed them all.
Slow but steady footsteps entered the room, and with each step... hearts trembled.
It was him... their leader. He didn't need a loud voice to intimidate them, nor many words to command them.
He stood before them, his eyes sharp and merciless.
Strong and powerful, his gaze hardened as if etched directly into their faces.
"Prepare the vehicle," he said coldly. "There's no room for error tonight."
One of them nodded respectfully. "As you wish, sir..." The commander spoke firmly, his eyes scanning the faces behind the masks.
"Don't forget to conceal your faces. I don't want you leaving a trace, no evidence... Do you understand?"
One of the men nodded obediently. "We understand perfectly, sir."
Another, tightening his mask, said, "Everything will be as you wish. Clean, and swift."
One of them approached him. "Aren't you coming with us, sir?"
The commander looked up calmly, his tone strange, neither cold nor fiery. "No... I won't come. I'll wait for you here."
Then the four men left the room, their footsteps quickening, weapons concealed beneath their clothing.
Elora finished her last class of the day, her heart brimming with joy.
Today was her birthday... her special day... she whispered to herself, "They must have prepared a surprise... and Dad must have bought me my favorite present."
She left school with her usual light steps, her bag slung over her shoulder, her hair dancing in the evening breeze. She walked smiling home, unaware that darkness awaited her around the corner.
Across the road, a black car was parked on the shoulder, its engine still warm.
Four masked men got out, their eyes scanning the side street for prey. They weren't just interested in robbery; they were ravenously hungry.
They began to wander among the passersby, harassing girls, pushing men, shouting at everyone, and smashing shop windows for no reason.
Their laughter was filled with madness, their minds adrift in chaos.
Then... Elora appeared.
She approached the same street with small steps, unaware of what awaited her.
One of them pointed at her with a sinful finger and said, "Today's our lucky day, guys... Look at her."
Another grinned slyly. "Hey, beautiful... where are you going?"
Elora stopped, looking at them with confusion and concern. She whispered nervously, "What do you want?"
One of them, taking a step closer, replied, "What do you think we want?"
Another laughed, looking at her childlike body. "She's just a child... she doesn't know about these things yet."
The third, moving even closer, said, "We'll teach her... in our own way."
Elora screamed and tried to run, but a strong hand grabbed her from behind.
She tried to wriggle free, but she was no match for them.
A mask on her face... a strange smell... everything began to go dark before her eyes.
One of them said sarcastically, opening the back door of the car, "The present has arrived, guys... let's celebrate tonight in our own way." They threw her small body into the car, and it sped off into the unknown...
The echo of their vile laughter reverberated through the empty street...
While her tiny shoe lay scattered on the pavement, as if bearing witness to the first crime that stole her childhood.
In that desolate place, far from sunlight and the warmth of life,
the leader sat on a worn-out old chair, enveloped in silence...
But in his mind, there was another world... louder than all the screams on earth.
An old voice rang in his ears, a voice that had haunted him since childhood:
"We found you in the street... a filthy sight... you're good for nothing!"
This was followed by screams... blows... children's laughter mocking him... looks of contempt... wounds that time hadn't healed, but rather reopened until they became a curse that clung to him.
He slowly raised his head, his eyes brimming with tears of anger, not regret.
He reached for the bottle on the table and swallowed the last of it as if trying to extinguish something burning inside him. Then, his voice choked with hatred, he muttered:
"I will make you all live what I lived..."
He rose suddenly and kicked the chair in front of him violently, scattering objects to the floor.
He roared in a hoarse voice:
"I will make your lives a living hell... You will wish for death and not find it!"
"Just as this cruel world showed me no mercy... I will show no mercy!"
"No one is great... no one is small... no one is innocent... no one is guilty... no one will escape me!"
One of his followers approached him, trembling, but he dared to say:
"We have brought the girl, Chief..." The leader turned to him, sparks flying from his eyes, then laughed mockingly:
"Let her be the beginning..."
With slow, menacing steps, he advanced toward the locked room where Elora lay... the first victim of a demon not created, but forged from the cruelty of humankind.