Days passed.
Snow followed the sa daily routine for a long ti. He didn’t have many bonds, but he was observant.
He noticed...
How the children began to vanish, one by one...
How they were essentially prisoners in the orphanage, never allowed beyond those iron fences.
There was even an entire section of the orphanage they were forbidden to enter—
The Restricted Grounds.
All of it revealed cracks in what once seed like their perfect world.
What was really happening behind their backs?
Did the world outside even know they existed?
Snow often found himself wondering.
He had awakened the ability to manipulate aura at a very young age—and was undeniably gifted.
But the educational system within the orphanage had restricted him heavily, almost as if it didn’t want him to grow stronger.
His only solace was the ti he spent with Vice Director Annalise.
Curiosity grew within the young boy’s heart each day.
Especially with the increasingly frequent disappearances of the orphanage children.
At so point, it beca a common occurrence, always followed by the arrival of new children to replace them.
The teachers claid they had been adopted, or transferred to "better" places.
Many considered them the lucky ones.
But were they really?
Especially when their disappearances always seed to coincide with the director’s return.
Later, upon reaching the age of ten, Snow began to be treated as soone "special" alongside a small group of children his age.
That was when his doubts about the orphanage—and the strange substances being injected into his body—grew far stronger.
Yet he had little to hold onto.
The only constant he had... was Miss Annalise. With her around, he felt he needed nothing else.
And every ti she embraced him, she would whisper the sa words in his ear:
"Be a good boy, Snow. Be obedient, and everything will be alright."
One day, she even gave him a necklace.
A silver pendant shaped like a dove—a symbol of freedom.
It was the sa emblem used by the orphanage itself.
But... was he really free?
Snow had always known the answer was no.
His curiosity deepened each day, driven by a need to uncover the truth.
He had grown weary of all the quiet sobbing that followed whenever a child vanished without saying a word.
But Annalise’s words had always been enough to hold him back.
"Be a good boy, Snow. Be obedient, and everything will be alright."
Yet how long could those words continue to restrain him?
Not much longer...
On a moonlit night, Snow snuck out of the bedroom, leaving the other children fast asleep.
Despite their limited training, he could manipulate aura freely—allowing him to move swiftly and silently through the orphanage.
The forbidden zone lay on the western side of the grounds. To reach it, he had to pass through quite a lot.
The orphanage was practically a small city on its own.
But Snow was gifted by nature, and within minutes, he reached that forbidden, shadowed section of the compound.
He walked forward, step by cautious step.
The area was dark. Ominous.
Gradually, he reached a wide hall at the end of the corridor, illuminated by faint green lights emanating from enormous glass containers.
Driven by the urge to know—by the burning curiosity inside—Snow entered the room and was struck by a scene he never could’ve imagined.
It was an old laboratory, filled with blood-stained instrunts, beds covered in crimson, and the reek of death.
That alone would’ve been enough to terrify any child... but sothing else seized his attention entirely.
The massive containers.
He approached them slowly.
And then he froze.
Because he recognized what was inside.
The boy trembled violently, struggling to comprehend what he was seeing.
Inside those cylindrical tubes... were bloodied human body parts.
Arms. Legs. Severed limbs.
But those weren’t what frightened him most.
It was the heads.
Severed, preserved heads—neatly arranged within the glass.
They weren’t just anyone. They weren’t strangers.
They were the children he had lived with for years under the sa roof.
They weren’t exactly friends. But they had shared the sa space. Laughed, cried, played, and grown together.
And now...
Their lifeless faces stared back at him from inside those tubes.
The grotesque sight of those decapitated heads, paired with the stench of blood, was far too much for soone like Snow Lionheart, who had lived a peaceful life until now.
He couldn’t even scream.
All he could do was tremble as his heart pounded violently in his chest.
His instincts scread at him to run—to leave now.
But his thoughts were clouded. Fear ruled over logic.
So instead of turning back, he ran deeper into the forbidden wing.
Eventually, he arrived at a room.
A room thick with the scent of blood and death.
What exactly was happening in this orphanage? Human experintation? What kind of deranged mind had created this place?
The answer awaited behind the door.
It was slightly ajar.
Snow pushed it open just enough to peek inside.
The room was pitch black, lit only by a single lamp dangling from the ceiling—casting light on the center.
There, lying on a small bed, was a girl who couldn’t have been older than eight.
Standing before her...
Was the man who had terrified him for as long as he could rember.
The Director.
The girl was still alive.
But the light had long since vanished from her eyes.
At that mont, the sound of Snow’s chattering teeth could be heard. He was trembling more violently than ever before.
The Director slowly turned toward him.
The girl lying on the bed before him had been half-eaten—her right chest and stomach were completely gone, her blood pooling endlessly.
Her blood covered the Director’s face and robes.
And from between the scars above his right eye, additional glowing red eyes erged, staring directly at Snow.
The boy collapsed, his legs refusing to move.
Then, in a deep voice, the Director spoke:
"Snow... ah, damn it. What are you doing here?"
Snow was special—so the Director recognized him imdiately.
Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, the man began walking toward the boy.
With each step, Snow’s heart sank deeper.
"N-No!"
The Director picked up speed.
"Don’t co any closer!"
But he didn’t stop.
He knelt down and seized Snow’s face with both bloodied hands, saring the girl’s blood across his cheeks.
His terrifying, inhuman eyes locked onto Snow’s.
Snow could feel the Director’s bloody breath brush against his skin.
Then, in that sa guttural voice, the Director spoke again:
"You didn’t see anything... did you, Snow Lionheart?"
"W-What...?"
Snow hesitated. His mind was still struggling to process what he had just witnessed.
"You didn’t see anything. You didn’t hear anything."
The Director pulled Snow into a tight embrace, soaking him in blood as well.
"You’re an obedient child... aren’t you?"
"..."
Snow remained silent.
He couldn’t speak a single word. It felt as though the Devil himself was holding him.
"Answer ."
The Devil demanded a response.
But the boy couldn’t form the words.
"Answer !!"
The monstrous roar shattered what little resolve Snow had left. Shaking all over, he finally replied:
"Y-Yes!"
"Good."
The Director pulled away slightly.
"Very good. Everything you saw tonight... was nothing more than a nightmare."
A sharp blow suddenly struck Snow’s stomach.
The boy’s world flipped upside down.
"Just a bad dream."
Snow fell unconscious on the floor as the Director gazed down at him.
That boy was too important to lose. They couldn’t afford to let him die.
Otherwise, it would’ve been him lying on that table instead of the girl.
When the ti ca, he did plan to let the boy go.
But that ti hadn’t co yet.
Monts later, a familiar woman entered the room.
The Director had already finished devouring the unfortunate child and was now cleaning himself.
When Annalise arrived, he gestured toward Snow.
"Return him to his bed. And make sure you control him properly."
"My apologies, sir. I didn’t expect this child to break the rules. He’s usually very obedient."
Annalise bowed deeply. The Director stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"It’s fine. Just make sure it never happens again."
"Yes, sir."
They looked into each other’s eyes for a long mont—before falling into each other’s arms, consud by their carnal desires.
And beside them... Snow Lionheart lay motionless on the floor.
That child had been swallowed by the darkness.
User Comments
0 comments from readers