(Murder?)
Emma repeated the phrase in her mind once, twice, three times. The words echoed, almost like a seductive sound, suggesting that it was a good option, that she could actually do it. Emma lost track of how long these thoughts lingered in her mind. She only realized she had received another slap when she felt the sting on her other cheek.
“What’s wrong with you? Pretending you don’t see me, you pest! With those expensive clothes, it looks like you’re living very well with your new father, doesn’t it? I bet you’ve already forgotten everything I’ve done for you, you ungrateful child!”
(This idiot is really out of his mind. What does he mean by “everything I’ve done for you?” From what I remember, he only ever hit you and your sister, blaming both of you for everything. Besides, your mother was so indifferent to everything that happened, she’s no less guilty than he is)
Even though Emma could hear the voice in her mind, it sounded so distant that it was impossible to make out what it was saying. Even after taking two slaps, Emma felt no pain; even the initial sting faded so quickly that it felt like she had never felt anything from the start.
Emma felt strange, unsure of how to proceed. She had imagined meeting her real parents again at some point, but this scenario always seemed so distant that she dismissed these thoughts as mere fantasies.
With that thought, Emma slightly shifted her gaze to the man in front of her. Although he was called her father, she felt nothing upon seeing him—neither anger, nor joy, just emptiness. The only thing she truly felt was how inferior he seemed compared to her dear father.
With his scruffy beard, disheveled hair, and overweight, he appeared, in Emma’s eyes, as a pig trying to imitate a human. She felt nothing but disgust looking at him, remembering that, at some point, this man was her father. Emma had never felt more grateful to resemble her mother rather than him, just like her older sister.
As she thought about this, a simple thought emerged in Emma’s mind—something seemingly small but that meant a lot to her.
(If I kill him here, will that mean my real father will be the only father I ever know?)
This thought settled deeply in Emma’s heart, creating emotional bonds. She turned her gaze back to the man, and a mysterious purple gleam flickered briefly in her eyes.
“What the hell is happening to you? Why are you looking at me like that? What a disrespectful look!”
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The man continued to flail, but Emma couldn’t pay attention to what he was saying. She observed him intently, no longer as a human, but as a small animal about to be slaughtered by her.
(Hey... where do you think would be the best place to deliver a fatal blow?)
(Fatal blow? Don’t we want to make him suffer? I think it would be more interesting to first rip off his legs. It will be fun to see him crawl on the ground like an insect. What do you think?)
(No, Daddy definitely wouldn’t want that. We need to be quick and take advantage of the fact that there’s no one here.)
(Well, it doesn’t really matter how we kill him. But are you sure? He’s not your real father? From what I see in your mind, children are supposed to love their parents)
(Father? That man was never my father. He’s just an abusive idiot who takes out his anger on others and doesn’t even deserve to be mentioned. I only have one real father, and comparing him to this guy in front of me would be an insult to my real father)
(Hahaha, it’s true, our father is way better than this old fat idiot—much stronger and more handsome. There’s no comparison. Let’s kill him quickly so we can go home; I want our father to know I was born)
As the mental conversation between Ema and her symbiote unfolded, the man grew increasingly furious. He hated being seen that way; his parents and his wife saw him as a loser too. Moreover, even though he drank, his habits had intensified over time.
Without the drink, he simply couldn’t sleep. Whenever he tried to sleep even a little sober, he was haunted by terrible nightmares where a completely white monster chased him and, in the end, devoured his head. Because of this, his mood had worsened significantly in recent days.
“You all, always despising me... come here! I’ll teach you a lesson so you learn to respect me”
The man grabbed Ema’s arm roughly and began dragging her toward a nearby alley. The street was practically deserted, with the few people around having long since moved away once the argument began.
The man didn’t notice, but the further they went into the alley, the more purple tentacles emerged from Ema’s back, all completely sharp and aimed at him. Within seconds, the man, who had his gaze up, suddenly felt his vision drop toward the ground. Before he knew it, his face was pressed against the cold, dirty ground.
“What? What the hell happened? Did I fall?”
The man was confused, his eyes scanning the surroundings until they fixed on his legs, where blood was flowing, especially from his heel.
“Ah! Ahhhh! What the hell is this? How did my legs get like this?”
He cried and sobbed while shouting, his gaze finally falling on the girl in the dark alley. Only her purple and violet eyes shone intensely. The man then realized something was missing from the young woman he had brought.
“You... you’re not my daughter. Who the hell are you?”
“Hahaha, finally interested in knowing something about me? I thought I’d have to tear off your arms before you asked me that, you know?”
The voice sounded like his daughter’s, but much more confident and frightening than he remembered, though it wasn’t as if he remembered much.
“Burn this name into your head, old man... not that you’ll need it anyway”
As she spoke, the girl began to grow. A living, purple mass started covering her, and in seconds, the little girl disappeared, giving way to a terrifying creature with long, straight hair and a mouth full of sharp teeth.
“I’m Agony”