Kieran’s Perspective

You want to know how I met him? It’s not exactly the kind of story you’d hear in fairy tales, but I’ll tell you. My name’s Kieran Nazaroff. And before Roy came into my life, things were… different.

I grew up in a house that never felt like home. My father’s voice was thunder, loud and crushing, always finding fault in everything I did. My mother? She was like ice—cold, distant, and unyielding. Aarti, my older sister, was the family’s golden child. She was everything I wasn’t: obedient, smart, and perfect. And Ishani, my younger sister, was too young to understand the kind of hell I lived through. They all had their roles. Me? I was the punching bag—the invisible one they only noticed when they needed someone to blame.

By the time I was nine, I had learnt to stop crying. Tears didn’t help, and they only made things worse. I kept my head down during the day, but at night, I’d sneak out. Those nights were my escape. I’d grab the bat I made myself, wander the streets, and find people who deserved a good beating. Burglars, thieves, anyone who thought they could prey on the weak. I didn’t kill — I wasn’t a monster — but I didn’t hold back either. It gave me a sense of control, something I didn’t have at home.

Then, one night, everything changed.