The Legendary Excalibur Has Disappeared

  The legendary sword Excalibur, once wielded by King Arthur, has reportedly vanished from its resting place. Concern spread across villages, government institutions, archaeologists, and historians, all questioning the whereabouts of the sacred artifact. Authorities launched an extensive investigation, yet no trace of the legendary sword had been found.

  Meanwhile, in a distant land—specifically in a small town called Alavus, Rinland—a young boy trembled in fear, the target of relentless bullying. He kept his head down, enduring the blows and kicks from his tormentors. Among them, a boy named Ezekiel seemed to take particular delight in the scene. His footsteps echoed ominously as he approached, sending a wave of dread through the trembling boy. His heart pounded, warning him of his impending doom.

  Ezekiel poured fuel over the boy’s body and smirked. “Hey, fatso, why don’t you try running? I’ll count from one to five. If you’re still here by then, I’ll burn you alive.” He flicked his lighter, and the countdown began.

  Despite his fading faith in God, his fragile hope, and his overwhelming terror, the boy forced himself to his feet and ran with all his might. His heavy frame struggled to keep pace, but he pushed forward nonetheless.

  By the time Ezekiel reached five, he ruthlessly tossed the lit match toward him. As the flames engulfed the boy’s body, Ezekiel laughed maniacally. “Burn in hell right here, Arthur! You’re nothing! Even God won’t save you! Ha-ha-ha! Roast like the fat pig you are!”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Arthur writhed in agony, his screams echoing as death stared him in the face. Desperation filled his soul, and through his suffering, he howled, “Where is God’s mercy?! Why?! What have I done wrong?! Isn’t God almighty?! Ha-ha-ha… To hell with it! I want to die and end this misery!”

  Fear overtook the bullies as they realized Arthur might actually die. Panic-stricken, they scattered. No one dared to defy Ezekiel—his family’s wealth shielded him from consequences. Unlike the others, Ezekiel remained, savoring Arthur’s suffering. Only when Arthur collapsed from exhaustion did he douse him with water. He didn’t want it to end too soon—he wanted to torment Arthur again tomorrow.

  Once everyone had left, Arthur slowly opened his eyes. He lay motionless, barely clinging to life. Burns covered his body, and his strength had all but faded. Passersby merely stepped over him, pretending he didn’t exist. Some cared, but none were brave enough to act.

  To Arthur, all humans were cowards, bound by invisible chains. Hatred consumed his heart—not just toward them, but toward himself.

  As night fell, Arthur struggled to his feet, staggering home. His house was nothing more than a crumbling shelter. Inside, his bedridden mother clung to life, connected to medical equipment. She remained in a coma, unable to move or speak. Arthur survived by shining shoes on the streets, earning just enough to get by.

  Upon arriving home, he kissed his mother’s forehead, praying for her well-being. She had always been his only source of comfort—the sole thread keeping his shattered world from collapsing entirely. His father was a mystery, a subject his mother never spoke of. But Arthur didn’t care.

  After washing away the filth of the day’s torment, he collapsed onto his bed, longing for a moment of peace—even if just for a while.

  Then, as he drifted into deep sleep, something unimaginable occurred. His body began to levitate. Unaware of what was happening, Arthur remained trapped in his unconscious state. A mysterious entity manifested before him, radiating an overwhelming aura that distorted space, time, and reality itself. The balance of the universe trembled.

  The entity shifted its form—into a magnificent, divine sword.

  Without warning, it plunged into Arthur’s chest. A pain unlike anything he had ever known spread through his body. He watched in horror as his organs spilled from within him, utterly powerless to resist.

  And in that moment, there was nothing.

  Nothing but surrender.