The Comforting Darkness

--- Chapter 1: The Shadow Within Hope. People say it’s a light, a lifeline in the abyss. But for some, hope is a cruel illusion—a flickering flame that leads only to darkness. --- The Boy Blood. The first thing he remembered was the blood. It seeped into the cracks of the wooden floor, pooling beneath his mother’s motionless body. The metallic scent clawed at his throat, mingling with the weight of his sobs. "Mom… wake up." His voice cracked, trembling like a wounded animal. His small hands pressed against her chest, desperate to will her heart to beat again. "Please… you promised we’d leave together." The room blurred, voices blending into an incomprehensible cacophony. "Isn’t that the boy who—?" "God, so young…" "They said he killed his father." He didn’t hear them. He couldn’t. All he could see was his mother’s lifeless form, her lips frozen in an unspoken farewell. The sirens wailed outside, and heavy boots stormed into the room. A hand yanked him back, pulling him away from her. "No!" he screamed, thrashing against the grip. "Don’t take her! She’s not gone! She’s not—" But the world was merciless, dragging him into the blinding glare of flashing lights. In the car, his knees tucked against his chest, he stared out at the house that had once been a home. The boy wiped his tears, his voice a hollow whisper. "I’ll never trust the light again." --- The Man 24 years later... The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the faint glow of the city outside. Kent sat at his desk, spinning a knife between his fingers. Each rotation caught the dim light, casting fleeting glimmers onto his face. A distant gunshot cracked through the night. He didn’t flinch. Instead, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Another one down," he muttered, placing the knife down with precision. Jason burst through the door, panting. "Kent! This is getting out of hand. You can’t just—" Kent raised a hand, silencing him. His gaze was ice-cold, a predator sizing up his prey. "Did I ask for your opinion?" he asked, his voice low and cutting. Jason hesitated, but his frustration boiled over. "You’re playing with fire, Kent. What happens when the wrong people start asking questions? When your name comes up in rooms you can’t control?" Kent leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "They won’t. Because by the time they realize what’s happening, they’ll be dead." Jason slammed his fist on the desk. "And what about you, huh? Do you even care about living anymore?" For the first time, Kent’s smirk faltered. A shadow passed over his face, his gaze distant. "Living?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "I stopped living the day I buried her." Jason froze. The tension in the room grew thick, suffocating. "You’re a monster, Kent," Jason said finally, his voice soft but resolute. "But even monsters can’t outrun their past forever." Kent’s cold demeanor returned in an instant. He stood, towering over Jason. "Get out. Before I remind you why I don’t need anyone." Jason held his ground for a moment, then turned on his heel. "One day, you’ll wish you listened to me," he said as he left. The door clicked shut, and silence enveloped the room. Kent sank back into his chair, running a hand through his hair. --- The Call The phone buzzed, shattering the quiet. Kent picked it up, his tone sharp. "Speak." A voice crackled on the other end. "We’ve found her." Kent’s grip tightened on the phone. "Her?" "The daughter. She’s back in Korea." For a moment, he said nothing. Then, a slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. "Good," he said. "Keep an eye on her. I’ll handle the rest." He hung up, leaning back in his chair. Outside, the city lights blinked like distant stars, indifferent to the darkness they illuminated. "Hope," he murmured, his voice dripping with disdain. "Let’s see how much of it she has left." --- To Be Continued... ---