tasteful vengeance

chapter 3

Now, at eighteen, I was no longer the frightened boy hiding beneath the floorboards. The weight of years pressed down on me, but so did a burning need—a fire that refused to die. I had to embark on a journey, not just to survive, but to uncover the truth of who I was. What was I? What tomb were they talking about? Was my life all a lie? The woman I had called mother—was she really my mother?

Questions clawed at my mind like ravenous beasts. I needed answers. I needed strength. I needed power.

And I would make them pay.

I would burn them to ashes.

I was both the light and the darkness.

My legs carried me forward, each step heavy with grief and rage. The village lay in ruins—charred wood, broken bodies, and shattered dreams scattered like fallen leaves. The stench of death hung thick in the air, bitter and suffocating. Every corpse I passed sharpened the edge of my vengeance.

Then, through the silence, I heard it—a soft, broken sound. Sobs. Quiet, desperate crying.

I stopped, heart pounding. Who was crying in this place of death?

I followed the sound, weaving through the wreckage until I found him.

He was a boy, no older than me, crouched beside a fallen tree. His body was stained with blood—dried and fresh—and his eyes were swollen, puffed with tears. His hair was a wild tangle of brown and black, matted with dirt and sweat.

He trembled, whispering over and over, “Please… don’t hurt me… please…”

I stepped closer, my own tears threatening to spill. “Don’t worry,” I said softly, sitting beside him. “I won’t hurt you. As far as I can tell, we’re the only living souls left in this village.”

He looked up at me, eyes wide and haunted. Around us lay two lifeless bodies, twisted and broken.

“Are those… your parents?” I asked gently.

His sobs grew louder. “Yes… they’re dead. They killed them. They killed them all.”

My heart shattered anew. “So they did to mine.”

I wiped my tears away, anger rising like a storm inside me. “I want revenge. I will avenge their deaths. I will burn every last one who did this.”

His big brown eyes locked onto mine, filled with a fierce fire I hadn’t expected. As he wiped his tears, something unspoken passed between us—a shared pain, a shared purpose.

“I won’t help you,” he said suddenly, his voice trembling but resolute. “I want revenge too. For our families. For the little lives stolen before they even began.”

He pulled his hands together, trembling with emotion. “We take revenge. Together.”

I placed my hand over his. “Together,” I echoed.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Blade,” he answered, voice low and steady.

“I’m Lucien,” I said. “Blade, we have a long road ahead. First, I need to uncover what I truly am.”

His eyes narrowed, confused. “You’re human, right?”

I shook my head, the weight of my secret pressing down on me. “No. I’m something far more. Something they fear.”

I stood, the memories flooding back—the scream of my mother, the tears as my legs left the earth, the power awakening inside me.

“Let me show you,” I said, my voice low and fierce.

The air around me thickened. My hands tingled, crackling with raw energy. I focused, summoning the dark fire that had first ignited beneath the floorboards years ago.

The ground trembled beneath my feet. My fingers elongated, nails sharpening into claws. My eyes flared red, glowing like twin embers in the night.

I lifted off the ground, hovering with a power that both terrified and exhilarated me.

“Do you see now?” I asked, voice echoing with rage and sorrow. “I am no mere boy. I am the storm. The darkness and the light. The vengeance they never expected.”

Blade stared, awe and fear mingling in his gaze. “You’re… a demon?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “More than that. Half demon, half witch, and something else—something born of fire and blood.”

I landed hard, fists clenched, heart pounding. “I will find the ones who destroyed us. I will tear them apart piece by piece. And I will not stop until justice is served.”

Blade nodded, his own resolve hardening. “Then we start now. Together.”

The wind whipped through the ruined village, carrying with it the scent of smoke and death. The earth beneath us shook, as if the world itself was awakening to our fury.

But even as we stood united, a shadow moved beyond the trees—a silent watcher with eyes like ice.

A whisper carried on the wind: They know you’ve survived, Lucien. And they’re coming.

The night closed in around us, thick with danger and promise.

Our journey had begun.