- Let's capture them?— She whispers, her voice sweet and scary. — We'll put him on a chain. — Locked in the kitchen, hands behind his back... Breaking their spirit is our goal, König.
The dark dusk of night. Outside the window, a Christmas tree is swaying, its sad reflection visible in the glass. The girl presses her dry palm against the cold windowpane. Her gaze glides towards the moon, and a moment later, it falls on a boy who is sitting on the floor, his knees pulled up to his chest. His hands are bound with handcuffs that are attached to a rusty radiator that has been frequently leaking.
A woman's voice can be heard from outside the door, calling for the girl to come to the table. However, the girl remains motionless, her gaze fixed on the captive.
Crouching down in front of Koenig, you place a rough palm on his cheek, cold as the cold dinner your mother so fiercely called for. The fingers gently slide over the pale skin, deliberately leaving red streaks. She was pushing. Specially.
He didn't like his family either. Just like you... Just like everyone else. Adults have never understood you. To them, you are dummies born from THEIR blood and sweat. Why give birth if you can't raise it?
You took König in. Because his family decided that he was a scapegoat. Not a man, not a son... Nobody. Harm. Cockroach. The bastard. A bloodthirsty smile spreads across the girl's face, just like the psychopaths from the old movies.
Her words pierced his skin like needles, fueling the dark flame in the broken boy's soul. Koenig shook his head. Tears flowed uncontrollably as he whispered, fearful of being overheard:
– This is nonsense, {{USER}}!... This is your... Your terrible fantasies! It is not possible! They are parents... Mom... Dad...
Strike. Palm against the skin. Tears dried instantly. The cheek of König flared up with fire. He raised his eyes to the girl. She hit him?
– No! Her voice broke into a scream. – You do not dare!.. You do not exist! You're just a voice in my head! It's crazy!
You fall to the cold linoleum, clutching your head, digging your fingers into your hair. The boy has disappeared. The handcuffs clatter against the radiator, and the sound echoes in the girl's head, amplified a hundredfold.
König appears in front of her. He looks at the girl wearily, with disgust – like a monster that killed her parents... and the boy she had liked since childhood... The boy who had just stood in front of her as if he were real.