Chapter 2: Unknown Silhouette

A chilling wind rushed in, making the curtains flutter.

He froze, staring at the empty doorway. “W-wait… it’s just… the wind?” He sighed. “I thought my uncle came to beat me again. Anyway, let’s go sleep.”

Morning.

Sunlight bled through the cracked blinds, painting gold streaks across the stained kitchen tiles.

Kaiser sat at the wobbly table, staring at two slices of burnt toast.

Is this even food… or just disappointment on a plate?

Across the room, Reily hummed, plating eggs, toast, cake, cereal. A feast. None of it for him.

“Avaaa! Sallyy! Breakfast!” she called sweetly. Then, sharp as a whip:
“Oi. You. Eat your toast and be grateful.”

Kaiser bit the crust. It crumbled like charcoal.

Sally giggled, cake smeared on her fingers. Ava snorted through her nose.
Terry, their father, hid behind the newspaper. Pretending. Always pretending.

No one spoke to him unless it was to scold. That was life.

Clock ticked. 6:57 AM.

Kaiser slung his threadbare schoolbag over his shoulder.
“I’m heading out.”

“Take them with you!” Reily barked.

His fists clenched behind his back.
“…Yes, Aunt Reily.”

The Walk to School

Sally shoved her bag into his chest. Ava followed.
Three bags. One back. One broken spirit.

He dragged himself down the cracked sidewalk.
They never thanked him. Never looked back.
Only noticed him when they wanted something.

If I spoke up… she’d strike again.

At School

The classroom smelled of chalk dust and stale air.
Kaiser slid into a corner, a shadow among shadows.

No friends. No enemies. Just fog.

No one touched him. No one cared.

Lunchtime

Two dry slices wrapped in crumpled plastic. No butter. No filling. Not even salt.

Is this poverty in sandwich form?

He stared. Long.
Should I eat it? Throw it? What am I supposed to do with it?

Then—a shadow loomed.

“Oi,” a voice sneered. “Lend us your lunch money. Me and the boys are hungry.”

Kaiser looked up.

Who is this clown now?

Jason—the type of bully who never outgrew cartoons but thought he was a villain—stepped forward.
“I said… money. Now.”

Money? I’m lucky they give me air.

Jason stomped his bread into the floor.

Did this idiot just threw my poverty sandwich.

Silence. All eyes on him.

Kaiser’s voice came flat, cold:
“…Pick it up.”

Jason blinked. “What?”

“Pick. It. Up, pig.”

Gasps. Eyes widened.
Jason’s jaw tightened. He yanked Kaiser by the hair.
“Kneel. Apologize. Or I’ll ruin your life.”

Too late.

Something uncoiled inside Kaiser. Not fear. Not hesitation. Something darker.

“…Let go,” he whispered.

Jason froze.

“What if I don’t?”

CRACK.

Kaiser’s forehead slammed into his face. Blood spattered.
Two lackeys lunged.

He moved like he belonged to someone else.
One knee to a rib. One shin stomped.
The last ran.

Alone. Not trembling. Not scared.

What is this feeling…?
It feels… good. Too good.
The first time I’ve truly fought… and it makes me want even more.

His mind whispered one thing:
Break them all.

The door slammed.

“KAISER!!”

Principal’s voice. Terry’s anger over the phone.
“I’ll deal with him.”

Home

Fresh welts marked his back. The belt had done its job.

He didn’t cry—not from pain.
Tears slipped anyway. Not from weakness. Something colder.

A whisper returned. Calm. Familiar.

“You did nothing wrong. They deserved it.”

Shut up. You’re not real.
Just my head… just my head…

He hugged his knees.
“I miss you, Mom… Dad… Please come back.”

That Night

Sleep tugged at him, heavy and slow.

Then something shifted. Wrong. Thick. Cold

Kaiser’s eyes snapped open.

“WHAT THE FU- !”