1 Prologue
"Sigh…" came a heavy sigh from someone that had suffered too much. It came from a 6 feet tall young man. He wasn't really good looking.
His long hair was black, as black as a moonless night. It was in a mess; however, he didn't care. He also had a somewhat long black beard. His eyes were deep brown, and it was vivid in them what the past years have done to their possessor.
His clothes were tattered and branded with dust as he walked in the narrow path. It was empty, but it was of the kind that he liked; or more accurately, the kind he got used to be in.
It was night time. The crescent moon glittered above him. He kept his head low , not wanting to be seen or recognized by anybody. And if someone did recognize who he was, then…
"When will this torment end?" he muttered, sighing heavily again.
This was Roy Leon, a man whose fate was harsh on him. He kept recalling the beginning, the beginning of everything, the beginning of endless nightmares, the beginning of an ongoing escape.
Escape from who?
From the unjust justice.
It all began 3 years ago. At that time, Roy was only 18 years old. He always lived a normal life any other person his age. He watched movies, played soccer, hanged out with friends, he even had a girlfriend… But all this dissipated just in one moment, no more.
The day that everything happened, changed the course of his and his parents' lives. He didn't have any siblings, he was the only child that his parents had.
That day, his father suffered from a brain attack that almost killed him. He was immediately transferred to the nearest hospital. The doctors kept him locked up in a special room, with specialized nurses and doctors.
Why did they do that?
Because he was dangerous. After he woke up the day after that, he went completely crazy, launching himself at people who visited him. He attacked them with anything he had. One time, it got so intense that it resulted in someone's death. It was a colleague of his; unfortunately for her, she didn't expect that the person she knew, previously friendly and kind, would possibly attack her.
The manner of attack was even crazier; he didn't use weapons or tools of any similarities, he used his teeth. He had bitten her throat so hard that it killed her.
From that day forth, no one was allowed to enter his room, not even his wife and son. If they wanted to see him, they must be behind a glass, with his arms and legs tied to his bed.
After two months, however, the unexpected happened. No one would have been able to know that something like this would happen. Mr. Leon had killed another person!!!
It was at the time when Roy and his mother, Mrs. Leon, where visiting him. Everything was like past times, behind a glass, and father tied up.
Mrs Leon was telling her husband about how well her son, Roy, was doing in his university terms. The crazy man listened in an unusual silence. However, in the middle of the talk, his hands suddenly managed to free themselves from the ropes and pulled out a pistol. A vicious and crazed expression covered his face as he pointed the gun at his wife.
POW!
A bullet rushed out of the pistol's mouth. However, it hit no one but the glass, instantly shattering it.
"NO!" screamed Roy, shooting to his feet and sprinting towards his father.
He grabbed his hands, but his father's head fell backwards and suddenly hit with full force. Roy fell, losing balance, and blood oozed from his mouth and nose.
Mr. Leon then aimed again at his wife, who crouched, grabbing her legs, and crying in fear. Roy balanced himself and once again charged at his father. He grabbed the hand that had the pistol.
But it was too late, the bullet had already been launched. This time it hit its target. A scream could be heard that immediately faded away. The body of Roy's mother laid there, motionless. Then Mr. Leon instantly managed to once again free himself from his son's grasp, and put the gun in his mouth.
Pow!
Mr. Leon's motionless body rested on the ground, his brain splattered on the wall behind him. Roy's eyes were bloodshot as tears flowed from his eyes, mixing with the blood on his face.
He grabbed the gun and started hitting his father's face with it, and each hit was filled with rage, grief, and bitterness.
However, while Roy was venting his anger, the hospital guards, nurses, and doctors happened to step into the room.
Their eyes swept the room. They saw Mrs. Leon's dead body, then they shifted to see Roy punching his father with a gun.
Immediately, the guards pulled their own guns and surrounded him. "Put the weapon on the ground and get on your knees! NOW!"
Noticing them, Roy realized what situation he put himself in. "Please! This is not how it seems!" he cried frantically.
"It is pretty obvious to everyone that you killed them! You murderer! Disarm him before he kills another person!" responded one of the doctors, his eyes filled with fear. In accordance to his words, the guards closed on Roy. The latter shook his head helplessly and put the gun on the ground, raising his hand, surrendering.
One of the guards put shackles on his hands and pushed him forward. They escorted him outside of the hospital, where only two guards remained.
They led him some distance away from the hospital gates, then waited for the police to come.
But suddenly, Roy raised his hands, still in shackles, and hit the guard to his right on the face. At the same time, the second one met a violent kick between his legs, where he lay there beside his companion.
Roy, took the guns from their hands and sprinted away from them. More guards appeared, shouting and cursing. But when they reached the agonized guards on the ground, Roy was long gone.
Roy's only hope lays in the escape. He went from place to place, not daring to stay in one place for more than an hour. After some time, he managed to break the shackles and use his hands again freely.
He mostly robbed people to get food, but when it was necessary, he killed.
That was the life of Roy Leon for the past three years, from nation to nation, country to country, city to city. When he recalled these scenes, it caused him to shake his head bitterly at what had become of him.
