Chapter 1:- The Nightmare of Blood

  In a quiet village at the edge of a vast, untamed forest, a five-year-old boy named Shekhar lived happily with his family. His days were filled with his mother's warm hugs, his siblings' laughter, and the strong yet gentle guidance of his father, a skilled hunter. Though still young, Shekhar admired his father's strength and longed for the day he could join him in the wilderness.

  One crisp morning, his father decided it was time for Shekhar's first real hunt.

  "Shekhar," his father called, ruffling the boy's hair. "Come. Today, you'll learn what it means to be a hunter."

  Shekhar's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Really? I can hunt too?"

  His father chuckled. "Not yet. But you'll watch and learn."

  With bows and knives in hand, they ventured deep into the forest. The woods were silent except for the rustling leaves and distant calls of birds. Shekhar watched closely as his father tracked their prey, his movements smooth and careful.

  After hours of waiting, they finally found a massive bear. Its dark eyes gleamed with primal fury, its muscles tensed as if sensing danger. Shekhar held his breath as his father nocked an arrow, steady and sure.

  "Stay behind me," his father whispered. "Watch closely."

  The string twanged, and the arrow flew straight into the bear's heart. The beast let out a final roar before collapsing.

  Shekhar's heart pounded with excitement. "That was amazing! You didn't even hesitate!"

  His father smiled. "A hunter must be swift and decisive. Remember that."

  Shekhar nodded eagerly. He couldn't wait to return home and tell his mother about their success.

  ---

  As they neared their cottage, a strange silence filled the air.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  No crackling fire. No voices. Just an eerie, unnatural stillness.

  His father's steps slowed. "Something's wrong," he muttered, his hand tightening around his knife.

  Shekhar felt a cold shiver creep down his spine. He grabbed his father's sleeve. "Papa...?"

  The wooden door creaked open.

  The sight inside stole Shekhar's breath.

  Blood. So much blood. It stained the floor, splattered the walls, and soaked into the wooden furniture. The thick, metallic scent filled his nose, making his stomach turn.

  "M-Ma...?" His voice trembled.

  His mother lay sprawled across the floor, naked, her once-loving arms now cold and still.

  Shekhar couldn't move. His mind refused to understand what he was seeing. His mother-his gentle, kind mother-was gone.

  A muffled sound broke through his shock. Laughter.

  Shekhar's wide, tear-filled eyes shifted to a group of men near the hearth. They lounged casually, smoking and chuckling, as if they hadn't just destroyed a family.

  "Did you hear her scream? Like a dying animal." One of them sneered.

  "Tch. Ended too fast. I was just getting started." Another laughed.

  A deep, furious growl rumbled from his father's throat.

  "You bastards..." His father's voice was low, filled with a dangerous calm. "I'll kill you all."

  A man who had never hesitated to face wild beasts now lunged at the intruders with pure rage. His blade flashed, slicing through the first attacker's flesh.

  "Shit! He's fast!" One of the men cursed.

  But there were too many.

  One of them dodged, moving swiftly behind him. A dagger glinted in the dim candlelight before plunging deep into Shekhar's father's back.

  His father staggered. Blood soaked his tunic. His breathing turned shallow. He turned his gaze to Shekhar, eyes full of unspoken words.

  Run.

  Shekhar's legs refused to move.

  "Papa-"

  His father swayed, then collapsed beside his mother.

  The men chuckled darkly.

  "Tough bastard. Should've just stayed dead like the rest."

  One of them, a tall man with a scar running down his cheek, stepped forward. He towered over Shekhar, his shadow swallowing the boy whole.

  "What should we do with this one?"

  "Heh. He's just a brat. Knock him out."

  Before Shekhar could react, a heavy fist slammed into his small frame, sending him crashing into the wall.

  Pain exploded in his head. Darkness swallowed him whole.

  The last thing he heard was their cruel laughter.

  ---

  Hours passed. The house that had once been filled with warmth and love was now nothing but smoldering ruins. The air was thick with the scent of burning wood and flesh.

  By the time the village guards arrived, it was too late. The massacre had already happened.

  "Gods... what happened here?" one guard whispered, covering his nose from the stench of death.

  Among the wreckage, a single survivor remained.

  A weak gasp escaped Shekhar's lips as he stirred, his small hands clutching the dirt beneath him. His head throbbed, his body ached, but nothing compared to the searing pain in his heart.

  His home was gone. His family was gone.

  "Sir! A child! He's alive!"

  The guards at first thought he was dead. But when they saw him move, their voices turned into hushed murmurs. Gently, they lifted the boy and carried him away from the ruins.

  "Poor thing... What kind of monsters would do this?" one guard muttered.

  "No family left. What do we do with him?"

  "Take him to the castle. The lord will decide."

  There was nothing left for him here.

  By sunrise, Shekhar sat in a cold, stone castle, staring blankly out the window as the first rays of morning light crept in.

  A servant approached hesitantly. "Young one... you must eat something."

  Shekhar didn't respond.

  The sun's warmth felt different now. Cold. Distant. Unfamiliar.

  The boy who had left home for a simple hunt was gone.

  In his place, something

  ng new was born-something forged in blood, loss, and the fire of vengeance.

  And this was only the beginning.

  To be continued...