" once upon a time boy was born into a large family. They named him Ariemil Oda".

The family treated Ariemil well when he was a baby. But everything changed when he turned seven.

"Oi, Oda! Don’t you dare hide from me!"

Ariemil was terrified. He didn’t even know what he had done wrong. He ran and hid in an old room in the house.

Moments later, his father kicked down the door, grabbed Ariemil’s hand, and dragged him to the punishment room—the scariest room in the entire house.

With teary eyes and a trembling voice, Ariemil asked his father why he was being punished. But his father just yelled at him, then strapped him to the suffering chair—covered in sharp needles.

Ariemil screamed in pain, begging for his father to stop, crying out apologies he didn't understand.

but his father only smile ...and walked out of the room.

Ariemil was in pain. He cried and begged for help from his siblings, his aunty, and his mother. He screamed in rage,

"Mother! Brother! Sister! Aunty!"

Finally, someone entered the room—it was his older sister.

With a trembling voice, Ariemil asked her,

"Why is Father doing this to me? tell me why!!!?"

But the sister only laughed and replied in a cold, cruel voice, with eyes full of anger,

"You ask me why? Then ask yourself."

She turned and walked out of the room, wearing a wicked smile on her face.

After that, his mother came in. Ariemil felt a wave of relief and begging his mother with trembling voice.

"Mother... help me..." he pleaded.

The mother gently touched his face—and then, with a face full of sorrow, she slapped him.

She screamed in a voice filled with rage,

"HOW COULD YOU? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO YOUR LITTLE SISTER, ODAA?!"

Ariemil was stunned. He didn’t remember doing anything to his little sister.

The mother wept in front of him. Ariemil could only stare back with blank eyes.

In a trembling voice, he asked,

"What… what did I do to her?"

He looked straight into his mother’s eyes and asked again, this time with a calm, controlled anger,

"What did I do to her?"

His mother’s face—once filled with anger, sadness, and disappointment—began to crumble. She could no longer hold back the emotions she had for her beloved son.

Ariemil cried again, his voice raw with pain,

"Mother, please help me... this chair... it's..... it’s killing me... I’m in so much pain…"

He broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.

And the mother—torn by grief—could no longer suppress that feeling we call love.

A love that was once the warmest feeling of all…

But love can fade.

And before it fades completely, we must ask for forgiveness—because sometimes, they’ll help us in the very last moment.

The mother was about to help him—her hands trembling—when suddenly, the father appeared out of nowhere and slapped her across the face.

"What do you think you’re doing? Helping Oda escape? That’s not going to happen…"

Then, without mercy, he stomped on her.

Again.

And again.

And again—until she stopped moving and covered with blood.

Ariemil screamed in rage,

"Mother!!!"

The father turned to him, eyes burning with fury.

"Don’t you dare act in front of me, you little murderer! I know this is what you wanted! You want us to kill each other, don’t you?!"

Ariemil, trembling but furious, shouted back,

"Me? Make you kill each other? What is this, some kind of joke?

You’re the one who killed her—and now you BLAME ME?!"

The father roared,

"Don’t you dare act like you loved her! You used her—to try to kill your little sister!"

Ariemil suddenly laughed—cold, broken laughter echoing through the room.

Just then, the older brother entered. His face twisted in rage.

"Oda! Why did you laugh?!"

Ariemil looked at him, with blank eyes, and answered,

"You ask me why? Then I’ll answer your question...

Because Father killed our mother."

The brother froze, stunned by the words. He looked down at their mother’s lifeless body—then screamed in rage and turned on their father.

He ran forward—and began to stomp on their father with all his strength, blinded by pain and fury.

The father grabbed the brother’s head and slammed it into the wall.

Then he froze, staring at the motionless body—his hands shaking. He began to cry.

With a trembling voice, he turned to Ariemil and shouted,

"Look what you’ve donee!!!… ODAA!!! You made me kill your brother too! why.."

Just then, their older sister opened the door. She gasped in horror at the sight of their mother and brother lying lifeless on the floor.

With a voice full of shock and fear, she asked,

"Father… did....did you... kill them?"

The father tried to explain, stammering, but she didn’t believe him. Her eyes filled with terror, and she ran.

Panic start gripped the father. His breathing turned ragged. The fear that his daughter might tell everyone consumed him.

He screamed in rage—and began to cry with fear filled in his eyes.

Then Ariemil, still strapped to the chair, spoke in a calm, chilling voice.

"Father… if you don’t chase her, she’ll tell everyone.

And when she does… your life is over.

Go. Chase her, Father…don't let she tell everyone about this.."

His father stared at him for a moment. Then, as if possessed by fear, he ran uncontrollably after her—driven by desperation to silence the truth.

Because fear…

Fear is an emotion we cannot control.

When someone feels truly afraid, they begin to seek answers—any answers.

And once they find something that looks like a solution, they cling to it.

They no longer question it.

Because in their eyes, it's the only way to survive the chaos.

The father pulled his daughter’s hair and stomped on her neck.

Then, without mercy, he ripped her head off her body.

He stared at her lifeless form with sadness in his eyes and whispered,

“Please... die for your father’s own sakes.... I’m sorry..."

Suddenly, a loud scream echoed through the air.

AAARGHH!”

He turned to the right-and saw his own sister standing there, horrified.

With four daughters and three sons.

His sister’s eyes widened in fear as she screamed,

“Everyone, run away!!!”

But it was too late.

The father dashed toward them and reached his sister before she could escape.

He stomped her down—his own sister—crushing the last hope in her eyes.

The children—her four daughters and three sons—watched in terror "aunty!!!"

as their father murdered the woman they loved.

But they didn’t stop.

They ran with tear in there eyes.

They ran as fast as they could, holding on to the seconds their aunty gave them.

They hid in an old storage room, heartbeats racing, breath trembling…

Outside, the father’s footsteps echoed.

And inside his head—Ariemil’s whisper returned.

Cold. Calm. Icy.

“Kill them…

Kill everyone who knows.

Or your life is over.”

The father, still hunted by fear, obeyed the voice.

Because fear is a poison—

and he was already drowning in it.

The father dropped to his knees, clutching his head as the voice inside grew louder—twisting, screaming, mocking him.

"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO,NO,NOOOOO!!!" he cried, voice cracking with madness. "THIS IS WRONG! I'M… I’M NOT THE ONE WHO KILLED THEM… YES, I’M NOT! IT’S… IT’S ODA… ODA IS THE MURDERER! I—I—I… I’M NOT A MURDERER!!! HA…HA..HA....... HAHAHAHAHAHA!! I’M NOT A MURDERER!!! HA HAHAHA"

But then, the voice returned—calm, cold, and cruel.

"Are you sure you're not a murderer?"

He froze, his wild eyes darting around the blood-stained walls. Then he answered, like a broken man holding onto the last thread of his sanity.

"Yes… yes… I’m… I’m not a murderer… am I?"

"Not a murderer?" the voice taunted.

"You’re kidding me, right? Just look at your hands… you’re holding a knife… and you still say you’re not a murderer?"

His trembling hands glanced down—red, soaked, still gripping the weapon. His voice broke.

"W-What do you want from me?"

"Say it," the voice ordered.

"S-Say what?"

"Say that you are a murderer. It’s easy, right?"

The father with trembling voice

"I… I’m… I’m the murderer…"

Silence.

Then the voice whispered again—deeper, darker than before.

"You know where they’re hiding, don’t you?"

The father nodded slowly, as if possessed.

He answer

"Y-Yes…"

"Then go… kill them. Or else..."

Without hesitation, he stood.

He found the door.

And with a roar full of rage and fear, he kicked it open.

Inside, the four daughters and three sons screamed, huddled together in the corner of the old storeroom—eyes wide with horror.

"No… no please…!!"

But he was no longer their father.

He stormed in, eyes empty, hands dripping, and began to stomp them—one by one—until the cries faded… and silence took over once more.

The father began to go crazy in the store that was full of his daughters’ and sons’ bodies—covered in their own blood.

He cried with rage and screamed:

"WHY!!!!!!!! WHY MUST MY FAMILY DIE!!!!!! WHY DID I KILL THEM!!? WHY!!!!!! WHAT HAVE I DONE… to my precious family……"

Then he screamed Ariemil’s name, his voice filled with rage, echoing through the store soaked in blood.

"OOODDAAAAAAA!!!!!!"

After that, he sat in the corner of the store. His hands shaking. His eyes empty.

And then, with a voice full of sorrow and guilt, he began to say their names… one by one.

"Sorry… Akata… sorry, Hiyoko… sorry Kiyomi, Kiyoko, Kiyota, Kiyoka… sorry Yuki, Yuta, Yuka… I’m… I’m really, really sorry… everyone…"

The father began to remember…

He remembered when Ariemil was just five years old.

Ariemil didn’t understand this world. He always did whatever he wanted, without thinking about right or wrong.

"Papa, look! I caught a bird!" he said with a smile, holding something behind his back.

The father turned to him. "Oda… why doesn’t the bird have a head?"

Ariemil answered with a calm, innocent voice, "Because this bird ate my food… so I gave the bird’s head to a dog."

The father froze.

He was stunned—speechless—by the way his son answered… with no guilt in his eyes at all.

When the father was crying in rage, Ariemil suddenly appeared at the store door—his whole body drenched in blood.

He stared at his father with cold, lifeless eyes, and called out in a calm, creepy voice,

"Father… are you finished killing them?"

The father was shocked. His whole body trembled in disbelief and anger.

"OOODAAA!!!" he screamed.

Ariemil, with blood still dripping from his wounds, tried to run—but his body was too weak. The pain slowed him down.

He stumbled out of the house, dragging his feet.

The father ran after him, caught up, and jumped on him—stomping hard on Ariemil’s stomach.

Ariemil let out a twisted smirk… and screamed at the top of his lungs,

"Help!!!"

His voice echoed through the air.

People nearby turned their heads. They saw a man attacking a wounded child—and without hesitation, they rushed in and grabbed the father.

Then, a girl ran out from the crowd. She rushed to Ariemil and gently lifted him onto her shoulder.

"Don’t worry… I’ll take you to the clinic," she whispered.

And then she ran—with full speed—disappearing into the distance with Ariemil in her arms

The father went to jail.

With hopelessness in his eyes, he sat in silence—his mind still filled with the same question: Why did Ariemil change?

Deep inside, he knew the answer. But he didn’t want to admit it.

Didn’t want to say it out loud.

Didn’t want to face the truth behind all this madness.

But for the last time, in the quiet of his cell… his heart couldn't hold it anymore.

Tears rolled down his face as he began to mumble:

 “We… we didn’t treat Oda in a good way when he was four years old…

We always abandoned him.

We never gave him attention.

We were always embarrassed… because he was different from other kids.

He was all alone…

Oda tried to act like a normal kid.

And… he had one friend. Just one.

But I… I kept him away from her.

I left him alone again.

And then… we punished him.

We made him suffer... again and again…”

Ariemil was in the hospital, still unconscious after undergoing surgery.

The air smelled of antiseptic, and the place was filled with kind-hearted people—nurses, doctors, and patients. A world so different from the one he came from.

When he finally opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a girl sitting beside his bed.

At first, his vision was blurry. But when he blinked a few times and looked at her face properly—his breath hitched.

He knew her.

It was her.

His childhood friend.

Ariemil’s body stiffened. His mind couldn’t process what he was seeing.

No… this can’t be real…

His father had told him she was dead.

That he had killed her.

But she was right here.

Alive.

Looking at him with eyes full of warmth.

Ariemil stared at her, disbelief clouding his eyes. His voice trembled as he spoke,

“Lysha… is that you?”

The girl in front of him—Lysha—smiled warmly, but tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Yes... it's me, Oda... sniff... I'm so sorry for that day... I let your father take you away... I lied to you..."

Her sobs grew louder, her body shaking with guilt.

Ariemil slowly reached for her hands, squeezing them gently. His voice was soft but firm.

“It’s not your fault… That day, I was too weak… I let my guard down…”

Then, without hesitation, he pulled Lysha into a hug.

Lysha burst into tears again, crying like a child.

“Waaaah! I made you feel bad about meeee…”

Ariemil sighed and patted her head.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to cry anymore.”

From that day onward, Lysha visited Ariemil every day. She cared for him deeply, always making sure he was okay.

Day after day, Ariemil slowly recovered.

Until one day, when he was finally well enough to walk, he made a request to the police.

"I want to see my father," he said.

"Before his execution."

Ariemil walked into the prison with a calm expression, glancing left and right. The air was filled with a foul stench, the sound of endless screaming, and dried blood covering the floor. Finally, he found his father’s cell.

Ariemil stared at his father, who was sitting in the filthy jail. With a creepy yet calm voice, he asked,

"Father… are you okay in this prison?"

His father trembled in fear, his face frozen, his eyes wide with shock and terror. He screamed,

"AAARGHH!! WHY ARE YOU HERE?!"

Once again, Ariemil answered with a calm yet chilling tone,

"Why am I here, you ask? Well… I just wanted to see your face filled with fear… for the last time."

At that moment, the execution guards entered the cell. As they approached his father, Ariemil turned and walked away, a sinister smirk forming on his lips as his father let out his final scream.

"AAARGHH!!!"

After that, Ariemil returned to the hospital. As he was about to pull the door open, he saw Lysha standing in front of him with an angry face but a smile. She spoke, "Where did you go just now, Oda?"

Ariemil remained silent and simply followed what Lysha said.

Lysha continued, "You cannot leave this room for a week!"

And so, Ariemil stayed in the hospital for a week. Lysha always fed him healthy food. She didn’t know that Ariemil had already fully recovered, but he played along because he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

After all, he had always been hurt—in his heart, his mind, and his body—because of the trauma from his past.

Suddenly, Lysha put the food into his mouth and said, "You must eat so you can recover quickly."

Ariemil answered in a calm voice, "Okay..."

Lysha smiled happily and said, "Hehe, that's my Oda!"

After Lysha left, Ariemil started thinking about her.

"Why is she doing this? Why does she care so much about me? Maybe she has a plan to betray me... What if she does betray me someday, just like my family did? What if this is just an act to make me fall into her trap...?"

Ariemil bit his nails, anxiety filling his mind. Fear lingered in his eyes, still trapped in his trauma, with the scars on his body serving as a reminder of his past.

Ariemil couldn't sleep until morning because he was still trapped in his trauma. Then, Lysha opened the door, energy radiating from her body, and said, "Good morning, Oda!!"

Ariemil just stared at her with his tired, dark-circled eyes. Lysha was shocked and couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"HA HA HA HA!!! Oda, wha—pfft—what happened to your eyes? HAHA!!"

Ariemil answered in an annoyed tone, "I couldn't sleep all night..."

Lysha, now concerned, asked him again, "Why?"

Ariemil replied, "I... It's nothing. I just couldn't sleep."

Lysha frowned, a mix of worry and frustration in her voice. "Is something on your mind? You can talk to me! Don't let it consume you! ...Or are you still thinking about your father?"

Ariemil remained silent before finally giving her a small nod.

Lysha couldn't help but hug him.

Ariemil was surprised, but slowly, his anxiety began to fade away. With that warmth, he finally managed to sleep, while Lysha simply smiled at him gently.