Pawn Of The Forgotten Fate

*Trigger warning: Domestic abuse

A young boy is standing in front of a normal looking house with white gates. His dark eyes look soulless as he stares at the crow on top of the pillar.

"Get inside, son. We don't have all day."

A woman in her thirties smiles as she opens the gate. Holding the arm of the boy in one and a bag in another, she ushers him inside, locking the gates behind them.

The woman is well-liked by her neighbors. She greets everyone with a warm smile and goes out of her way to help those in need. It's no wonder she's held in such high regard.

As a high-ranking official in a renowned company, her professional reputation is impeccable. Her colleagues praise her dedication, her neighbors admire her kindness, and her children adore her unwavering love and support.

A brilliant employee, a considerate neighbor, and a devoted mother.

How could anyone not like her?

The front door shuts behind her, and she drops the bag on the floor. A child's cry fills the entire house. Releasing the boy's arm, she walked away from him.

Only after hearing the sound of a door being locked does the boy move.

His thin arms reached out to pick up the bag, the motion causing his shirt to ride up slightly. For a brief moment, dark purple and yellow bruises peeked through, stark against his pale skin.

Patting the invisible dust off his bag, he goes into his room and locks it behind him. The sound of the baby crying has stopped now. She must've calmed him down.

Placing the bag on a chair, he opens his drawers and changes into comfortable clothes.

He takes out his homework and starts solving them. One hour later, the sound of the front door opening reaches him.

His breathing gets heavier and his hands start to shake when the click of the door being locked reaches him.

"Come out of your room right now."

With fumbling hands, he manages to open the door of his room. He comes face to face with a smiling man.

The man is well-liked by his co-workers for his easygoing nature. He's never received a single complaint or reprimand and has been awarded Best Employee multiple times, a testament to his dedication and charm.

His jokes never fail to bring laughter to the neighbors, and he's always ready to lend a listening ear or offer thoughtful advice, whether it's about work or life in general.

A lively employee, a dependable neighbor, and a devoted father.

How could anyone not like him?

"Do you know what happened today?"

Hearing the man's words, the boy's dark eyes widened with fear, the trembling unmistakable in his small frame. The sight seemed to amuse the man even more, a sinister smile creeping across his face.

"My boss thought it was hilarious to humiliate me in front of everyone," the man continued, his voice calm but dripping with venom. "He stole the project that should've been mine just because he doesn't like me. And that's not even the worst of it. The loan sharks have decided I need to pay off the entire debt within two weeks."

As he spoke, he began rolling up his sleeves, the deliberate motion sending a chill through the air.

The boy's legs buckled beneath him, and he crumpled to the floor, shaking.

The man leaned down slightly, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. "I'm under a lot of stress with everything going on," he said softly, almost casually. "Will you help me release it?"

"No one wanted to take you with them. You remember that, right?"

The man's voice was cold, piercing through the boy's trembling form.

"You should be thankful that we gave you a roof over your head and three meals a day."

He leaned in closer, his tone softening into something almost sinister. "So, you'll help me, won't you?"

Tears welled up in the boy's eyes, spilling over as he forced his lips to move. His voice came out as a broken whisper.

"Yes, Father."

The man's smile deepened, a chilling curve that sent shivers down the boy's spine. Without hesitation, his fist began to move.

Blow after blow landed on the boy's already bruised torso, each strike heavier than the last. He bit down on his lip, sucking in sharp breaths as the pain became unbearable. But he endured it, as he always did, until the man finally stopped.

His body screamed in agony, every nerve aflame, as he tried to push himself off the floor. His arms buckled, and he collapsed again, the room spinning around him. His head clouded, his vision darkened, and for a moment, he felt like the world was slipping away.

But then, in the midst of his agony, he heard voices, sharp and angry whispers.

"Why don't we kill him? Have you forgotten the reason we brought him with us?"

The boy's chest tightened, his panic spiking through the haze of pain.

"Do you think that's easy?!" the man snapped. "How will I explain the disappearance of a ten-year-old kid? The police aren't that easy to fool."

"Think about our child!" the other voice hissed. "Without that money, we won't even be able to afford a meal. Do you want us to starve?!"

The boy's heart raced, the weight of their words pressing down on him like an iron cage.

The man and woman whom everybody liked had a secret that no one knew.

The kind and helpful mother of two, the woman admired for her generosity and grace, actually despised her neighbors. Living in the wealthier part of the city, surrounded by families far more comfortable than hers, she couldn't help but envy their ease.

She had married a rich man, hoping it would fast-track her way to a life of luxury, only to find herself trapped. Her husband wasn't the provider she had dreamed of but an abusive gambling addict who drained away any semblance of stability.

The man, once the pride of a successful family, had been spoiled since childhood, his every whim indulged. Introduced to gambling by his friends, his passing interest quickly spiraled into an obsession. When his family finally had enough of his reckless behavior, they cut him off, refusing to help him with his debts.

Now, desperation had pushed them to the edge.

"We can bribe the detectives after we get the money. Just do it," the woman hissed, her voice sharp with impatience.

The boy's body trembled uncontrollably as the sound of footsteps approached, each step hammering his panic deeper into his chest.

Two pairs of feet stopped in front of him. He dared not look up, his tears streaming freely down his cheeks, soaking into the cold floor beneath him.

Before he could react or even plead, his body gave out. The pain, the fear, the crushing weight of it all became too much.

Darkness took him, leaving him unconscious at their feet.

He wakes up to find the house going up in flames. With his hands covered in blood, he sees a silhouette of a monster cutting down his family right in front of him.

The woman's face had been ripped in half, her insides gruesomely scattered across the floor. One of her eyes dangled freely from its socket, swaying slightly, as if mocking the horror of the scene. Her body was charred, covered in burns, and dismembered, with most of her torso completely missing leaving jagged, bloody remnants behind.

The man's head was nowhere to be seen, though a strange pinkish object near the boy's feet gave a sickening clue. His body lay sprawled, flesh peeling away in chunks, revealing stark white bones beneath. The stench of decay filled the room, suffocating and unbearable.

The boy's breath hitched as the shadowy silhouette stopped what it was doing and turned toward him. Slowly, its long, blood-soaked legs moved, the sound of wet squelches filling the silence.

It came closer, inch by inch, until it stood mere inches away.

The boy stared up in horror. Where eyes and a mouth should have been, there were only gaping black voids, empty and endless. The silhouette tilted its head slightly, as if observing him, its presence heavy and suffocating.

Frozen in fear, the boy's mind screamed at him to run, but his body refused to obey. It was so close now, the rancid smell of blood and decay filling the boy's lungs.

It opens its enormous mouth.

[You-]

I jolted awake, breathing heavily, sweat clinging to my skin. My heart pounded in my chest as my eyes darted around the room, scanning the darkness for any movement that might catch my attention.

Nothing.

The silence was reassuring, but it did little to calm the lingering unease. Slowly, my tense muscles began to relax, and I collapsed back onto the bed, exhaustion washing over me.

I thought the nightmares stopped after I got Yuna. Guess I was wrong.

Staring at the ceiling, I focused on steadying my breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. After what felt like an eternity, I got up and made my way to the balcony, hoping the night air would help.

The cold breeze kissed my skin, and the sky above was a canvas of stars, glittering faintly against the darkness. I leaned over the railing, letting my head hang low, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me.

What was that all about?

The images from the nightmare flickered in my mind like dying embers. The mangled bodies, the faceless creature, it all felt so vivid, so real.

Is it because of what I'm going through right now?

Yes. That had to be it. Why else would I dream of something like that?

I stood there in the stillness, the quiet of the night a small comfort. After a while, I decided to head back inside. I grabbed a glass of water, letting the cool liquid soothe my parched throat, and lay back down on the bed.

The sky outside was still dark, meaning I hadn't been asleep for long. Tossing and turning, I struggled to shake off the remnants of the nightmare, my mind refusing to settle.

Eventually, exhaustion won out, and I drifted into a blissful, dreamless sleep.

"Lou wake up."

I opened my eyes to see Aion-nim hovering over me.

"You do not look good. Are you okay?"

I'm sorry, but not everybody can look good after waking up.

"I'm okay."

He doesn't believe me, but thankfully he didn't question me.

"Then get up and get ready, or you will be late for your meeting with Lyaeus."

Oh, yes! The tour!

After half an hour, I finally made my way downstairs for breakfast. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm bread greeted me as I stepped into the kitchen.

Lyaeus was already at the table, casually munching on something that looked suspiciously delicious. He glanced up when I entered, his usual grin spreading across his face.

"Morning," he said through a mouthful of food.

"Good morning," I said, taking a seat across from him.

We ate in comfortable silence, and when we were done, we both got up and made our way to the front door.

"Lou."

I turned around to see Aion-nim standing there, holding a brown box with strange, intricate patterns carved on its surface.

"Here," he said, handing it to me and motioning for me to open it.

I took the box, examining it carefully. It looked like some sort of jewelry box, but something about it felt... different.

As I tried to open it, I quickly realized it wasn't like any normal jewelry box. There was no keyhole, no latch, nothing to indicate how it should be unlocked.

Frowning, I struggled with it, turning it over in my hands.

"Is there a problem?" Aion-nim asked, his tone calm but curious.

"Uhh... no," I replied quickly, not wanting to seem clueless.

Lyaeus tapped my shoulder, pointing at a small circular pattern etched on the top of the box.

Is this one of those push-and-open things?

I pressed my finger against the pattern, pushing it down. Almost instantly, I felt a sharp sensation shoot through my pointer finger. Startled, I yanked my hand back, but when I looked, there was no mark, no indication that anything had happened. Even the pain vanished as quickly as it came.

What the hell was that?

"Is everything alright?" Aion-nim asked again, his sharp gaze lingering on me.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied, forcing a small smile. Was that my imagination? First the nightmare, now this.

Do I need to go back on pills? Not that I'd find any here.

The box clicked open, revealing a pocket watch nestled inside on a velvet cushion.

I picked it up carefully, my breath catching.

It was stunning. The golden body gleamed softly in the light, its surface adorned with delicate, intricate designs. By no means did it look cheap. This was something you'd expect a rich noble to carry in the past.

"This is... beautiful," I said softly, genuinely touched.

It was sweet of Aion-nim to give me something like this. But really, what kind of boss treats their employees this way?

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, absolutely!"

"Good. Keep it on your person at all times."

After he taught me how to use it, we left the store with the promise of returning before dinner.

"Where would you like to go first?"

Grape asked me as he waved cheerfully at the people on the street. Men, women, elders, and even children greeted him with warmth, their smiles wide and genuine.

I had no idea how popular he was among the locals. It felt like every other person knew him personally, and their smiles suggested they were genuinely fond of him.

The tour had been going marvelously, and by the time we reached his tavern, the sky was a canvas of stars. From the outside, the building seemed simple enough, but the moment we stepped inside, I felt like my eardrums were about to explode.

The place was alive. Laughter and cheers echoed off the walls as people drank, shouted, and danced to the lively music played by a small crew in the corner. The air smelled of good food, wood, and the faint tang of spilled alcohol.

A particularly loud cheer drew my attention to a nearby table, where a man and a woman were locked in an intense arm-wrestling match.

The man was massive, his broad shoulders and thick moustache making him look more intimidating than anyone I'd seen all day. The woman, in stark contrast, was slender, her features sharp but determined. She held a huge mug of beer in her free hand, taking long, casual chugs between rounds as if the match was nothing more than a warm-up.

She seemed to be holding up surprisingly well, but I couldn't help but wonder if she'd regret it later. Judging by the scattered mugs littering the table around her, the one she was holding wasn't her first, or even her fifth.

Before I could watch the outcome, Lyaeus grabbed my arm, grinning ear to ear, and dragged me to one of the empty seats near the center of the room.

"What do you want to drink?"

Looking at everyone drinking is making me crave soju, but unfortunately I won't find it here.

"Beer."

"Coming right up."

I don't know how long the barkeeper had been standing there, but his sudden voice startled me.

"Lou, meet Ambrose, my most trusted subordinate."

I turned to see a tall, stoic-looking man with sharp features and an air of quiet competence.

Ambrose gave me a polite nod, his expression calm and composed. "I have heard a lot about you, Master Louie. It's nice to finally put a face to the name."

"It's nice to meet you too," I replied, though the formal title felt a little strange..

After that brief introduction, Ambrose didn't say much. The only time he spoke was to scold Lyaeus, hitting his hand every time he tried to sneak an alcohol bottle off the shelves.

I took a sip of the beer, surprised by how good it tasted. The bitterness was perfectly balanced with a subtle, occasional sweetness.

"This beer is specially made for those who can't handle stronger drinks," Ambrose explained matter-of-factly. "Even if you drink five glasses of this, you won't get drunk."

"I can't take you back drunk, so bear with it for now," Lyaeus added, a mischievous grin on his face. "Get it? Bear."

... Can I slap him?

Lyaeus started laughing at his own joke, and Ambrose gave me an apologetic look.

"I'm very sorry about my master. When he drinks, he laughs at anything, even a falling leaf. I'm ashamed to ask this, but could you go along with his antics for a bit? If someone says anything rude, he's likely to end up crying again."

I sighed. "... Sure."

"Much thankful," Ambrose replied with a bow of his head, the slightest trace of a smile on his otherwise serious face.

As far as I could tell, Ambrose was the only bartender in the entire tavern, and that was probably why he couldn't stop Lyaeus from getting drunk.

Whenever someone called for him, Grape seized the opportunity to grab bottles off the shelves and down them like water. By the time I was on my second beer, he had already finished three bottles.

Ambrose caught sight of this and immediately began scolding him. Unfortunately, Lyaeus had already slipped away to a nearby table, where he was regaling a group of patrons with his jokes.

Somehow, they were laughing.

All of them.

I heard a sigh behind me and turned to see Ambrose glaring at Grape with barely restrained fury.

"He shouldn't have brought you here if he planned on getting drunk," Ambrose muttered, clearly annoyed.

I couldn't help but sympathize. Having a boss is already annoying, but having a boss like Lyaeus? That's just cruel.

We both stood in silence, watching Lyaeus dart from table to table, entertaining everyone with increasingly bad jokes. The energy in the room was chaotic, to say the least.

"Master Louie, may I ask for a moment? I'll guide you back to Master Aion's place shortly. If you prefer, you can wait by the entrance. I'll come and fetch you after I'm done here."

"Okay," I replied, thankful for the escape.

My head was getting fuzzy, anyway.

On my way out, I saw her again. She was locked in another match, this time against a different opponent.

Looks like she won the last one.

Her focus was unwavering, her slender frame a stark contrast to the burly man she was grappling with. I paused for a moment, almost compelled to watch, but then shook it off and continued walking toward the door.

As I neared the entrance, a strange sensation washed over me, like the weight of unseen eyes pressing against my back.

Someone's watching me.

I turned my head slightly, scanning the room casually, but nothing seemed out of place. Shaking off the unease, I stepped outside into the cool night air.