Crimson Flame : A Story of Demon King
Ep : Introduction
In the college library at midnight...
Lieo finds himself alone, the silence so deep that even his breath echoes through the aisles.
He's trying to run—to escape him—but something keeps pulling him back.
That dark, unwavering gaze... it's not just watching.
It’s speaking. Whispering something intense. Something he’s not ready to hear.
Theo
WHO who are you!?....
Theo
No...Don't doon...
*fear*
Abyzou
FINALLY!!! Found you.
*Deep voice*
Theo
Name : Theo
Age : 20
occupation: University student
Theo was 20 years old, a quiet, introspective college student with dark, thoughtful eyes and a mop of unruly brown hair that always fell into his face. He had grown up almost entirely on his own in a small apartment near the edge of the city. His mother had died in a car accident when he was just four years old, leaving him with only hazy memories of her soft voice and warm hugs. His father had remarried and moved to another country when Theo was seven, taking his new wife and their children with him, and leaving Theo behind. Over the years, his father’s phone calls became less frequent until they stopped altogether. Theo had learned not to expect anything from him—not even a birthday greeting or a short message. His father’s absence became a hollow space in Theo’s life, a silent emptiness that echoed with the ache of abandonment.
But Theo had learned to fill that emptiness on his own. He developed a deep love for books and stories—especially those that spoke of ancient legends, of powerful kings and hidden realms, of magic and monsters lurking in the shadows. He would spend hours in the library after his classes, losing himself in tales of other worlds, perhaps because they were so different from his own.,
On weekends, Theo would wander the city alone, sketching people in parks or listening to music in tiny coffee shops. He didn’t have many friends—he had always been a bit shy, preferring the company of fictional characters to the unpredictable messiness of real-life people. He liked the quiet; it was a kind of sanctuary where he could piece together his thoughts without interruption.
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