Chapter 25

"That's right, just give up and die. You deserve it anyway," taunted one of the familiar figures, a muscular and tall figure towering over Turpis. The harsh words cut through the air, intensifying the weight of the situation.

As the words echoed in Turpis' ears, a wave of despair washed over him. The voices of doubt and self-blame swirled in his mind, amplifying the pain and weariness he already felt. The cheers from the other figures only added to the overwhelming sense of hopelessness.

Tears welled up in Turpis' eyes, streaming down his face. The weight of the situation, the physical and emotional exhaustion, threatened to crush his spirit. In that moment, it felt as if all his efforts had been in vain, as if there was no way to escape the clutches of his fate.

Turpis turned his gaze towards his pursuers, his heart sinking as he recognized the three familiar figures approaching him in the distance. Due to psychotic effects instead of lesser dragons, he saw the faces of those who had tormented his life.

Turpis' eyes lost their focus, his body trembling with exhaustion and despair. In that moment, the weight of his struggles bore down on him, threatening to shatter his resolve. Thoughts of surrender crept into his mind, tempting him to give up, to succumb to the overwhelming darkness that enveloped him.

Turpis suddenly felt a gentle tug on his left hand. He turned his gaze to the source and saw a silhouette of a young boy, his eyes filled with innocence and hope. Without hesitation, the boy gestured for Turpis to follow him, leading him towards a narrow passage that seemed almost invisible in the darkness.

As the lesser earth dragons sensed Turpis approaching the narrow passage, their pace quickened in an attempt to catch up to him. Turpis, in a trance-like state, fixated his eyes on the silhouette that crawled ahead of him. Without a second thought, his body moved instinctively, mirroring the movements of the figure before him.

As he crawled through the narrow passage, agony coursed through Turpis's body, each movement accompanied by a symphony of pain. His muscles screamed in protest, his wounds reminding him of the grueling battles he had fought. But he remained lost in his own thoughts, a whirlwind of memories and emotions that drowned out the physical torment.

The lesser dragons arrived at the entrance of the narrow passageway just as Turpis disappeared inside. Their massive bodies were unable to squeeze through the tight space, leaving them frustrated and snarling in vain.

Turpis's body continued to crawl through the narrow tunnel, but his mind was lost in a state of unconsciousness. His movements were automatic, driven by some unknown force as his senses remained dulled.

The tunnel enveloped him in darkness, and time seemed to lose its meaning. Turpis crawled, oblivious to the pain and exhaustion coursing through his body. The journey felt never-ending, with no signs of relief or escape.

Finally, as if guided by an unseen force, Turpis reached the entrance of a small chamber. His body, battered and worn, could no longer bear the strain. It collapsed upon entering, limbs giving way to exhaustion. His eyes, heavy with weariness, shut tightly, surrendering to the need for rest.

In the chamber's stillness, Turpis lay motionless, his breathing shallow and steady. The echoes of his crawling journey slowly faded away, replaced by a profound silence.

****

Turpis awoke abruptly in his childhood attic, greeted by a disheveled sight. The room lay in disarray, as if it had weathered a storm. Memories flooded back as he took in the familiar surroundings, now in a state of neglect.

His gaze wandered, and beneath an old table, he noticed the silhouette. Huddled and clutching his ears, the silhouette seemed to be hiding from something, his face filled with fear and despair.

The attic door swung open with a creak, breaking the silence that hung in the air. A man in his twenties stepped into the room, clad in somber attire befitting a funeral and emanating an aura of strength and charm. His physique was sculpted, his stature commanding, and his appearance would undoubtedly catch the attention of many. He possessed the kind of allure that could easily turn heads, attracting the gaze of admirers.

Turpis swiftly rose to his feet, a surge of emotions coursing through his veins as he recognized the man who had entered the room. It was none other than Julius, his older brother.

Turpis's gaze burned with a mix of anger, bitterness, and pain. The weight of their shared past bore heavily upon him, fueling the fire within. His jaw clenched, and his muscles tensed, ready to confront the person who had caused him so much pain.

Turpis stare at this man intensely, his eyes full of hate. As the man's sharp gaze swept across the dimly lit attic, Julius eyes caught sight of a small figure cowering beneath the dusty table.

With a surge of hate and anger coursing through his veins, Julius approached the table and crouched down, his intentions clear. As Julius reached out to grab the legs of the small silhouette, a burst of determination overcame Turpis, and he lunged forward, delivering a powerful punch aimed at Julius' head.

However, to Turpis' disbelief, his fist passed right through Julius, as if he were nothing more than a spectral apparition. It was as if Turpis were a ghost, untouchable and beyond the realm of physical confrontation.

"No! Stop!" Turpis's voice reverberated through the attic, his desperation evident in his strained shout. Veins bulged on his neck as he futilely attempted to strike Julius once more. Butt despite Turpis's intense efforts, his fists met no resistance, passing through Julius as if he were made of thin air.

The little silhouette beneath the table squirmed and wriggled in an attempt to break free. But his feeble resistance was met with a forceful yank from Julius's sturdy arm, effortlessly dragging the figure out from his hiding place. Turpis could see a sense helplessness and fear in the silhouette eyes.

The sight before Turpis was familiar, as a little boy emerged from the shadows. His young face was swollen with lumps, a haunting indication of his suffering from certain skin disease. The boy appeared to be around 8 to 9 years old, his fragile frame trembling with fear.

In a desperate bid for safety, the boy instinctively tried to retreat, crawling back under the table. But Julius, consumed by an unfathomable fury, refused to release his grip on the child. With a savage expression etched upon his face, Julius seized the boy by the head and ruthlessly slammed the boy's face against the wooden floor.

A surge of rage coursed through Turpis's veins, as he saw the torment. In a desperate attempt to protect the innocent, he extended his trembling hand, yearning to offer comfort and shield the boy from further harm. But to his dismay, his finger just passed through the child, leaving Turpis feeling utterly helpless.

The little boy's cries pierced the air, a heartbreaking symphony of fear and pain. He squirmed and wriggled, desperately trying to free himself from Julius's grip. But his struggles were futile, his efforts in vain. Julius, consumed by his own rage, once again slammed the little boys head.

"Try to resist and your head will be destroyed!!" Julius bellowed, his voice filled with malice, as he loomed over the trembling little boy. The threat hung heavy in the air, suffocating any hope that dared to linger. The child, though paralyzed by fear, continued to cry out in agony, his sobs echoing through the room.

Julius, growing increasingly annoyed by the ear piercing cry, raised his hand once more. With a resounding slap, he struck the little boy's face, causing the sound to reverberate through the room.

*Slap*

"Cry more!"Julius shouted as a slapping sound echoed in the room. The force of the blow jolted the child's head to the side, tears streaming down his reddened cheeks and blood dripping on his nose. The little boy started crying more as he was assaulted by strong pain.

*Slap*

"Because of you!" Julius's voice reverberated through the air, filled with anger and grief. Tears streamed down his face as he directed his torment towards the little boy.

*Slap*

*Slap*

"Goddamn it, run!!!" Turpis's voice reverberated through the room, filled with urgency and desperation. He could no longer bear the sight of the little boy's suffering. But once again, his plea fell upon deaf ears, as if he didn't exist.

With every ounce of his being, Turpis unleashed a torrent of punches, driven by a primal instinct to protect and defend. He knew that it was useless, as each of his strike just passed through. But still, Turpis fought on, propelled by an unwavering spirit that refused to yield.

The boy's cries had faded into stifled sobs, his tear-stained face now a canvas of pain and despair. But even in his silent suffering, the onslaught from Julius persisted, each slap resonating with an intensity that pierced the stillness of the room.

*Slap*

*Slap*

*Slap*