In the enchanting land of Strania, known for its breathtaking beauty and alandscapes, life was once a symphony of peace and harmony. However, this idyllic existence was abruptly transformed. One dark day, the tranquility was torn apart, and Strania was plunged into the chaos of war and relentless suffering.

I had believed that day would unfold just like any other, filled with routine and the familiar comforts of home. But in a heartbeat, that fragile sense of normalcy was shattered, and everything was turned upside down.

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"Son, could you fetch some fruits from the mountain for dinner?"

Mom's voice carried the usual warmth, a simple request amidst the routine of daily life. As she busied herself cleaning the house, my father sat in his favorite chair, his expression clouded with a deep unease. There was a palpable tension in the air, a sense of foreboding that seemed to hang over him, as if he could sense an impending disaster that none of us could yet see.

The wind blew cold, sending a shiver down my spine. It was evening, and the sun was about to set, casting long shadows across the mountains. I grabbed a basket and rushed down the mountain, hoping to return before darkness fell.

As I walked through the mountains, the sun sinking lower, I noticed the shadow of a man perched on a branch of a tree. His figure was barely visible in the dimming light, but I could feel his eyes on me.

"You're lucky, kid," he said, his voice carrying a hint of a threat and a smile.

As the light of the setting sun hit the man, I saw his full appearance. He was tall, dressed entirely in black, with only his eyes visible through a mask.

His gaze pierced through me with an unnerving intensity. The sheer force of his presence was palpable, an almost tangible weight that pressed down on my chest. It felt as though his eyes could see right into my soul, carrying with them a silent threat. The air around him seemed charged with a menacing energy, making it clear that he could end my life with nothing more than a single, decisive glance.

"W-Who are you? W-What lucky?" I asked, my voice trembling with fear.

"Hmph, poor kid," he said with a cold, dismissive tone. Before I could react, he melted into the shadows, his words echoing in the growing darkness.

Right after the man disappeared, I heard a loud voice screaming for help, not too far away.

"H-HELP! THEY'RE HERE—"

The voice cut off abruptly, leaving a chilling silence in its wake. My heart raced as I looked around, trying to locate the source of the cry. I was torn between rushing toward the sound or heading back to my family. Every instinct screamed at me to investigate, but fear rooted me to the spot.

As I pushed through the dense underbrush, my heart raced. Suddenly, I caught sight of a leg, drenched in blood. My stomach dropped as I recognized the boots—those belonged to the head of the village.

He was sprawled on the ground, his body twisted unnaturally. His eyes were wide open, staring blankly into the darkness. A horrific gash cut across his torso, the blood still fresh and glistening in the fading light. The scene was a stark and grim reminder of the brutality that had taken place.

As I stared at the mutilated body of the village head, a wave of mixed emotions crashed over me. Sadness weighed heavily on my heart, mourning the loss of someone who had guided and protected us. His empty eyes and the bloody wound were stark symbols of a cruel end.

But alongside the sadness, a burning anger ignited within me. The sheer brutality of the act filled me with a fierce rage, a powerful drive to seek justice. The thought of someone committing such a terrible thing made my blood boil. I vowed to find the one responsible and make them answer for this atrocity.

I sprinted back to our village, my mind racing and my heart pounding with a mix of dread and hope. The chilling discovery of the village head’s body spurred me on, each step feeling heavier than the last. As I neared the village, I whispered a silent prayer, desperately hoping that the horror I had just witnessed hadn’t spread further.

The moment I reached our village, I was stunned by the horror that greeted me. Bodies lay scattered everywhere, lifeless and motionless. It was a massacre—every single person had been brutally slaughtered. The once vibrant village was now a silent graveyard. The killers had vanished without a trace, leaving behind nothing but death and destruction.

As I stood in the midst of the ruined village, a torrent of emotions surged through me. My legs felt weak, and I dropped to my knees, overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the devastation. The faces of friends and family, now lifeless and cold, stared back at me, their eyes frozen in expressions of terror and pain.

Sadness engulfed me, a deep, aching sorrow that felt like a physical weight on my chest. Tears welled up in my eyes and streamed down my face as I gazed at the fallen. Each lifeless body was a reminder of the laughter, the conversations, and the bonds we once shared.

But as the sadness threatened to consume me, a fierce, burning anger began to rise within. My sorrow turned into rage, a seething fury directed at the faceless monsters who had done this. How could anyone commit such a heinous act? My hands clenched into fists, and I felt a primal scream building in my throat. I wanted to find them, to make them pay for the blood they had spilled and the lives they had stolen.

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Yet, amid the sadness and anger, there was a swirl of confusion and helplessness. Why had this happened? Why to us? The questions buzzed in my mind, adding to the chaos of my emotions. I felt lost, adrift in a sea of grief and fury, with no clear direction or purpose.

As I knelt there, surrounded by the remnants of my village, I made a silent vow. I would not let their deaths be in vain. I would find the ones responsible and bring them to justice. My heart was a battlefield of conflicting emotions, but one thing was clear—I would not rest until I had avenged my people.

As I kept walking over the dead bodies of my people, my heart pounded in my chest. I was searching desperately for my mom and dad among the fallen. The smell of blood and smoke filled the air, making it hard to breathe. Every familiar face I saw twisted in pain and death only deepened my grief and rage.

Then, out of the shadows, I saw him—the man I had met back in the mountains. He was leaning casually against a tree, his eyes cold and mocking.

"You fool," he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "You were lucky you didn't die. And now what? You're going to seek revenge? HAHA, don't make fun of yourself. What can a kid like you do? Bite them? Just live, forget about everything, or you'll suffer the same fate as these worthless scumbags."

His words cut deep, each one a dagger twisting in my already shattered heart. I wanted to scream, to lash out, but his mocking gaze held me in place. Tears of frustration and sorrow welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision.

"You think you can stand against those who did this?" he continued, his voice a sinister whisper. "They will crush you like an insect. Save yourself the pain and walk away now."

But as his taunts echoed in my ears, something within me hardened. The anger, the sorrow, the helplessness—they all merged into a steely resolve. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, drawing blood.

"No," I whispered, my voice trembling but resolute. "I won't forget. I won't walk away. I will find them. I will make them pay for what they've done."

The man laughed again, a chilling sound that sent shivers down my spine. "You make me cringe, suit yourself, kid. Just remember, you were warned."

With that, he disappeared back into the shadows, leaving me standing amidst the ruins of my village, my heart a burning cauldron of grief and determination.

I continued searching for the bodies of my father and mother. Each step felt heavier as I navigated the gruesome scene, my heart aching with every familiar face I passed. Finally, I found myself standing in front of our house. The sight of it, once a place of warmth and love, now filled me with dread.

With trembling hands, I pushed open the door and stepped inside. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood. There, lying on the floor, was the body of my mother. Her face was contorted in pain, her eyes vacant and lifeless.

I dropped to my knees beside her, my vision blurring with tears. "Mom," I whispered, my voice choked with grief. I reached out to touch her, but my hand hesitated, hovering over her still form. The reality of her death was a crushing weight on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

As I sat there, overwhelmed by sorrow, memories of her kindness and love flooded my mind. The way she would laugh, the warmth of her embrace, the comforting words she always had for me—all now just echoes in a silent house.

But alongside the grief, a fierce determination began to build within me. I wiped away my tears, my jaw set with resolve. I would find my father, and I would seek justice for my mother and everyone who had been mercilessly taken from us.

I stood up, my legs shaky but my resolve unbroken. I turned to leave the house, casting one last look at my mother. "I promise," I whispered. "I will make them pay."

In the darkness of night, I find myself standing alone in the heart of what used to be our village. Once a haven of laughter and tranquility, it is now a haunting tableau of devastation. The streets, once lively with the buzz of everyday life, are now eerily silent, overrun with the cold, lifeless bodies of our people. The remnants of our happiness lie scattered among the ruins, each fallen figure a testament to the peace that was so brutally stolen from us.

"W-why... us?" I stammered, my voice barely more than a whisper as I grappled with the incomprehensible scene around me. The question hung in the air, a raw expression of the confusion and anguish swirling within me. How could our village, once so full of life and happiness, be reduced to this nightmarish tableau? The answer eluded me, leaving me adrift in a sea of despair and disbelief.

The sound of distant footsteps broke through the silence, growing louder with each passing second. I turned, my breath catching in my throat as shadows moved in the periphery of the wreckage. The village was not as empty as it seemed.

I stood up, wiping my tears away, and took a deep breath. My eyes scanned the ruins, searching for the source of the approaching noise. A new wave of determination surged within me.

"Who... WHO'S THERE!?"