The survival

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DEATH BILL – EPISODE 1

Prologue: The Night of Blood and Fire

The Del Tiero mansion, a symbol of wealth and power, stood tall beneath the moonlit sky. Its halls were silent, the only sound being the faint ticking of an antique clock in the grand living room. It was a peaceful night. Too peaceful.

Then, the first gunshot shattered the silence.

Glass exploded from the windows as masked figures stormed inside. The security detail barely had time to react before bullets tore through them, their bodies collapsing like puppets with severed strings. Blood splattered across the pristine marble floors.

Upstairs, Alexier Del Tiero, just seventeen, jolted awake at the sound of gunfire. His younger sister, Eliana, rushed into his room, her tear-streaked face twisted in fear.

“Alex—someone’s inside! They—they’re killing everyone!”

His heart pounded as he grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward the hidden panel in his closet—a small escape route built into the house’s design. “Stay here. Don’t make a sound,” he whispered, shoving her inside. “No matter what happens, don’t come out.”

Before she could protest, the door to his room burst open.

A towering figure, dressed in black with a skull-patterned mask, stood at the threshold. The intruder didn’t hesitate—he raised his gun. BANG.

Pain ignited in Alexier’s chest as he was thrown back onto the bed. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. His body went cold, but through the haze of pain, he saw Eliana’s terrified face peeking from the closet.

No—don’t look. Don’t come out.

Then, more footsteps. His father, Leon Del Tiero, stormed into the hallway with a handgun. “You bastards!” he roared, firing off a shot. It struck one of the attackers, but there were too many.

Another gunshot rang out. His father staggered, then collapsed to his knees. Blood poured from the hole in his forehead.

His mother’s desperate screams followed. “Please—please, take anything you want! Just don’t—”

Another shot. Then silence.

Alexier lay there, half-conscious, staring at his parents’ lifeless bodies. His fingers twitched, trying to move, to stop this nightmare—but his body wouldn’t obey.

The masked attackers whispered among themselves. “He’s still alive. Finish him.”

Then—footsteps.

A pair of polished leather shoes entered his blurry vision, stepping over the bodies. The masked men hesitated. A deep voice, calm yet commanding, cut through the tension.

“Leave him.”

One of the assassins growled. “But the order was—”

“Do you wish to defy me?”

Silence. Then, one by one, the killers retreated into the shadows.

Through the fading light in his eyes, Alexier saw the man kneel beside him. A hand pressed against his bleeding chest.

"You won’t die here," the man murmured.

The last thing Alexier saw before darkness took him was the flicker of an unknown symbol engraved on the man’s glove.

The Price of Survival

The steady beeping of a heart monitor echoed in the dimly lit hospital room. A frail figure lay motionless on the bed, his once-strong body reduced to a mere shadow of what it had been. Alexier Del Tiero had spent the last three years drifting between life and death, confined within these sterile white walls.

His eyes, now dull and hollow, stared blankly at the ceiling. Memories of blood, screams, and the cold laughter of his enemies haunted his every waking moment. The massacre of his family played on an endless loop in his mind—their corpses lifeless, his home in flames, and the mysterious figure in polished leather shoes standing over him before darkness swallowed everything.

For three years, Meryl, his nurse, had been his only companion. She had been there when his body convulsed in pain, when he screamed in his nightmares, and when his voice had been too weak to form words. But Alexier never truly spoke—not about his past, not about his grief.

Today, however, something was different.

Alexier slowly sat up, his body aching from years of disuse. His muscles protested, but he ignored them. He had lost too much time. He couldn't afford to be weak any longer.

Meryl, noticing the shift in his demeanor, approached cautiously.

"Alexier? You're pushing yourself too hard. You still need to recover."

His hazel eyes flickered toward her, determination burning beneath the exhaustion. "I can't stay here anymore."

She flinched at the finality in his tone.

"Where would you even go?" she asked, trying to mask the concern in her voice.

Alexier didn't answer. He didn't know. He had no home, no money, no family. But he couldn't remain trapped in this hospital, suffocating in the weight of his past.

Meryl bit her lip, hesitating before finally asking, "Are you looking for something... or someone?"

A long silence stretched between them.

Finally, Alexier muttered, "I don't know."

But deep down, a name haunted him. The man with leather shoes—the one who had saved him that night. Who was he? Why had he bothered saving someone as broken as Alexier?

Meryl clenched her fists. She had spent three years watching over him, growing attached despite knowing he would eventually leave.

"If you go now, you'll be walking straight into a world that has forgotten you," she whispered.

Alexier smirked bitterly. "Good. It means I can start over."

Before she could protest, he stood, steadying himself against the IV pole. His legs trembled, his vision swam, but he gritted his teeth and took his first real step toward the door.

Meryl swallowed the lump in her throat. "At least... let me help you one last time."

He turned, eyes questioning.

She handed him a worn hoodie, a pair of jeans, and an old pair of sneakers. "They belonged to my brother. They're not much, but they'll get you started."

Alexier hesitated before accepting them. He wasn't good at saying thanks. Instead, he simply nodded.

As he changed, Meryl sighed, forcing a small smile. "You have nothing right now, Alexier. No money, no food, no plan. You're walking into a storm unarmed. But..." she paused, "I hope you find whatever you're looking for."

He didn't respond. Instead, he pulled the hoodie over his head, shoved his hands into the pockets, and walked out without looking back.

Meryl watched him go, blinking away the sting in her eyes.

"Goodbye, Alexier."

Outside, the city was loud and overwhelming. People bustled past him, cars honked, neon signs flickered in the evening glow. It had been years since he had seen the world like this—so alive, so indifferent.

His stomach clenched in hunger. His body was weak. But none of that mattered.

He had survived. And now, he would find the truth.

Even if it killed him.

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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