In the year 2132, in the privacy of her room, a woman realized that the time had come for the arrival of her latest child. Her body gave her the unmistakable signal of wetness, and she called out urgently, "John!" From a distance, John's voice resonated in response, "What do you want, woman?" With a sense of urgency, she exclaimed, "The baby is coming!" Rushing to the room, John was met with the sight of the wet bed. Instead of showing concern or support, he reacted with exasperation, flinging his arms around and exclaiming, "Seriously, you messed up the sheets." Unmoved by his trivial comment, the woman reiterated with determination, "I am having a baby, John!"
At long last, the massive man conveyed the woman to the hospital facility..The doctor, a man with long blue hair, delivered the first baby to the woman. The baby, a boy, had fuzzy blonde hair.During the man's absence from the room, another baby was born. His wife, who appeared to be his spouse, had fainted.Having already raised twelve children at home, John reconsidered his initial desire for two more children and opted against expanding his large family further.Of the children present, half were female. In all reality he hated girls,children and his wife so this is not really a good thing that the doctor left the room.
John took the baby girl, tossing her out the window into a garbage can. What he did not know is that she survived the fall and even later was found by someone. When the doctor came back his wife woke up."Here is your son, Mrs. Denver," the doctor said, handing her the tiny baby. The newborn opened his eyes and looked at his parents. "Look John, he knows we are his parents." the woman said with sparkles in her eyes.
"I don't care, Carrie," John said with a dismissive eye roll and a glance away. A young boy entered the hospital room, accompanied by his siblings. "Oh, great," John said before exiting the room. "Diska, come here and meet your new baby brother," Carrie said, extending her free hand. The boy approached the baby, his sparkling blue eyes drawn to the infant.
"He is so cute." Diska said, then the other siblings gathered around except this black haired boy who stood at the door arms across his chest."Can I name?" Diska asked, looking at the baby who somehow was now holding his finger. "Well his first name is gonna be Samuel so you can give him a middle name" Carrie said smiling at him.
"Amidst the giggles, Diska proclaimed, "He will take on the middle name Lee." The dark-haired boy, who remained aloof, huffed and exited the room. Carrie drew the baby closer, asserting, "His name is Samuel Lee Denver. Everyone, meet your new baby brother and be kind to him."
Several weeks later, Sam was home with his family, safely tucked in his crib for bedtime. Surprisingly, the tiny baby crawled all the way to his brother's room and climbed onto his bed. "Huh?" Diska exclaimed, sitting up and seeing Sam in his bed. "This is my bed, and it is far too dangerous for you to sleep with me," Diska explained, gently picking up his baby brother and placing him back in his own crib.
Shortly after, Diska found himself back in bed. The situation continued to repeat itself, leading Diska to decide that it was best to let the little one sleep with him. "Just don't let me roll over you," Diska cautioned, and Sam snuggled up under his arm. Diska felt a sense of comfort that he had never experienced before, unlike his eldest sister who was incredibly unkind. The other siblings didn't seem to show any concern for him.
Days later, John attempted to strike Diska for disobeying him. A short distance away, Sam, Diska's younger brother, witnessed the event. He jumped out of his crib, kicking John in the chest. "No!" Sam exclaimed as Diska shielded his face. Diska lowered his hands, revealing John, their supposed father, lying on the floor. "Did you say no, Sam?" Diska asked in surprise. "You shouldn't be able to talk; you were only born a few weeks ago," Diska said. He picked up his younger brother and attempted to put him back in his crib.
"No." Sam's sudden utterance caught Diska off guard. His week-old brother had just spoken, and Diska blinked in disbelief. Instead of speaking, Diska chose to hold Sam close. "Disk ca," Sam mumbled, snuggling into Diska's arm. "Did you call me disk ca?" Diska asked, looking down at the sleeping baby. This was so peculiar that Sam kicked John.This strange occurrence became more frequent.
Even as an infant, Sam displayed signs of inherent magical abilities. Each time he sneezed, flames would burst forth from his nasal cavity. Surprisingly, these flames never caused any harm or damage. In stark contrast to Sam's supernatural gift, his father, John, harbored a deep hatred for him due to his perceived lack of power. John constantly urged Diska to kill Sam, but Diska, driven by his unwavering love for his brother, steadfastly refused to comply.
Part 1-Dojo sensei
At the tender age of five, Sam's mother, concerned about his safety, insisted that he learn self-defense. Due to bullying at school, she took him on a long journey to a dojo located across a bridge and in front of a massive steel door adorned with intricate dragon etchings. With a knock on the door, it swiftly opened, revealing an elderly and unkempt man. In a gruff voice, the man inquired about the reason for their visit.
"My son Samuel needs to learn how to defend himself." Carrie explained. The old man looked up and down Sam like he was a piece of meat. "You want me to train this skinny whiney momma's boy to defend himself." the old man remarked. Carrie groaned with aggravation under her breath that this man would say such things like that about her son. "I want you to train my beautiful son so he can make it in life without being beaten up because he is so sweet." Carrie huffed then looked at her son lovingly.
The old man looked at Carrie with disgust, rolling his eyes at her statement. "Alright, I shall train your child," he said as Sam walked inside. The old man stopped Sam by extending his hand, and Sam accidentally bumped into it. "Before I begin training, I require payment," the old man said, extending his hand. "Did you honestly believe I would train your snot nosed brat for free?" Carrie gasped in surprise at his words. "The fee is 100 coins (other name)," the old man stated.
Carrie, puzzled by the pricing, inquired about the cost of the lessons. "Is it 100 coins for all the lessons or 100 coins per lesson?" she asked, reaching for her coin purse. The old man, with a smirk on his face, explained that each different lesson costs 100 coins. He clarified further, "For example, if he learns how to kick, it's 100 coins, and if he learns how to punch, it's also 100 coins. Do you understand?" Carrie, frustrated by the high cost, questioned the pricing. "Are you serious? 100 coins for each lesson, just for kicking and punching? This is outrageous! Do you make all of your students pay 100 coins per lesson?"
"Not just your son because he came here with his momma because he gets beaten up." the old man said laughing. "He was just scared that there should not be a reason to charge me so much money just because my husband is in the military does not mean we have a lot of money. I have 13 other children at home who need to be fed" carrie said.
With a stern voice, the old man proclaimed, "If you have other children to feed, do not trouble me with your feeble child here." Dismayed, Carrie stormed home and informed John that the dojo master demanded a hefty fee of a hundred coins per lesson. Irritated, John responded, "Alright, Carrie. I'll pay the dojo master so you can stop complaining." With that, he stormed out of the house.
The following day, Carrie returned to the dojo with her son, retracing their steps from the previous day. Before she could even knock, she straightened her posture and composition. The old man, popping his head out again, exclaimed, "Oh, it's you two once more! The bastard, as he called him, was paid off by your husband." Carrie couldn't help but gasp in surprise at the unexpected revelation.
"Come on boy." the old man said, kind of pushing Sam inside.In the presence of two boys, a girl who resembled a boy was already there. One of the boys fixated his gaze upon him. "This is Samuel, our new trainee," the old man proclaimed, expressing discontent.
For weeks, Sam toiled arduously at the dojo, yet progress seemed elusive. Disheartened, he was surprised to see his elder brother, Diska, joining him today. "The dojo master believes I can assist in your training," Diska said, beaming. "But Samuel, do not presume this means you can slack off under your brother's tutelage," the stern old master interjected, wagging his finger at them both.
In preparation for an upcoming event, the trainees engaged in intense training to enhance their skills. The old master, with years of expertise as a dojo master, expressed his frustration at the lack of understanding among the trainees. He emphasized the importance of mastering basic moves correctly, not only for self-protection but also to avoid serious injuries or even death. Rolling his eyes with exasperation, he proceeded to explain the rationale behind each fundamental move.
Among the attendees, a boy began voicing his discontent, exclaiming that it was unfair and the old man had no right to be so harsh. Irritated, the old man snapped, "Young man, sit down and keep quiet so I can continue my lesson. If you don't want to listen, you can leave and run back to your mother's arms, you snot-nosed brat!" Startled by the old man's outburst, the boy abruptly stood up and stormed out of the training room, grumbling as he exited.
Undeterred, the old man continued, "Anyone else want to complain or leave? Go ahead, but know this: if you snot-nosed brats truly desire to learn the ancient art of kung fu, then you need to stay, no matter how much you may think I'm an ass hole." The old man paused, allowing a moment for anyone else to leave if they wished.
The old man said, "Alright, the rest of you passed the test." Sam exclaimed, "What test is that?" in confusion. The old man said, "First of all, shut up! Second of all, all of you kids stayed even though you probably thought the same things that kid thought. Third, one of the lessons is to never quit, no matter how challenging it gets." As he crossed his legs, he sat down on a square pillow that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
""Hold on, where was I?" the old man exclaimed loudly, having been rudely interrupted. "You were emphasizing the importance of mastering basic techniques to prevent injuries," Diska reminded him. "Did I ask you?" the old man retorted, pointing at Diska. "I was talking to myself. I don't recall addressing you as a snot-nosed daddy's boy brat. Tell me, where did we leave off? Or did I?" Diska responded with a snide remark, "I wasn't sure who you were addressing since you spoke out loud to the room, as if seeking everyone's attention."
The old man, rubbing his chin, asserted, " Just because I said it out loud doesn't necessitate a response from someone like you." "Now that the interruptions are over, we'll begin our theoretical training." We'll learn all the basic moves and how they relate to the advanced moves we'll learn later." As he spoke, the old man produced a massive book.
Part 2-Burning
In the midst of a dreary and frigid day, contrasting with the warmth within, a sense of unease lingered. Sam frantically searched the basement for tools, striving to complete a machine that held the promise of saving his ailing sister. "Don't worry, I won't let you die," Sam cried, cradling his pale, shivering sister in his arms before placing her at the core of the machine. He then hurriedly ascended the stairs to seek assistance from his older brother Diska.
"Diska responded with anger, "No, I will not assist you with this absurd machine that you believe will save our sister, Yo. That contraption will not save her, Sam. It's not designed to do so!" Sam, in a mixture of shouting and sobbing, retorted, "What? What are you talking about? It will function as I intend because I constructed it myself using the parts I had!"
Diska, filled with a mixture of begging, pleading, and warning, said, "Sam, do you genuinely not comprehend? This machine will not grant life; it can only take it away. She will die regardless of your efforts, so I will not assist you in destroying everything, Sam. Please, for the sake of me and your family, be reasonable and turn off the machine."
With tears streaming down his face, Sam cried, "What about yo? She needs my help." "Sam ,yo is beyond saving," Diska exclaimed, his voice laced with frustration. "She's practically dead already - her body is just going through the motions." After a heated argument, Diska's anger reached its peak, and he impulsively punched his younger brother Sam in the mouth. The impact knocked out Sam's two front teeth, and blood gushed out. The siblings continued to argue for some time, their voices filled with anger and despair.
In a state of disbelief over his own actions, Diska rushed to his room. On his bedside, he discovered a piping hot cup of tea as if anticipating his arrival. Diska muttered to himself while reaching for the teacup, "A soothing tea to calm my nerves." He took a small sip, his voice faint as he uttered, "This tastes strange." With a weakening voice, he clutched his chest and attempted to scream "Sam," but only a whisper escaped his lips. As he collapsed from his bed to the floor, he tried again to call out, but no sound came out this time.
As his eyes fluttered, he realized that this was the end. His shallow breaths indicated his waning life force. Overwhelmed with remorse, he deeply regretted his inability to convey his feelings. With a heavy heart, he yearned to express his sorrow to his brother and apologize. As his eyes closed heavily, he bid farewell to the world in his mind. His body gradually turned cold, and the spark of life within him was extinguished.
A few hours later, Sam awoke from his stupor and rushed to his brother's room to check on him. Upon entering the room, he was met with a gruesome sight: Diska lay dead on the floor beside his bed. "Oh no, I killed my brother! He must have had a heart attack," Sam exclaimed in horror. Stumbling down to the basement, Sam grabbed the only phone in the house and called his mother. She answered with concern in her voice. "Mom, something is wrong with Diska. We had an argument, and he punched me in the face," Sam sobbed into the phone.
Carrie was conversing on the phone, her voice heavy with concern. "What did he do? Is something wrong with him?" she asked. On the other end of the line, Sam's voice was choked with sobs. "I'm not sure what happened, but I think he's gone," he said.
Carrie's heart sank. "I'm coming home right now," she said, hanging up the phone. She drove home at breakneck speed, her mind racing. When she arrived, she ran up the rickety stairs and threw open her son's door. He was lying on the floor, unmoving.
Carrie dropped to her knees, searching for a pulse. When she found none, a scream of anguish tore from her throat. "Diska, my son is dead!" she cried.
Distraught by what she had witnessed, Carrie stepped outside to clear her head. As she stood there, lost in thought, John approached her with a glass of tea.
"Carrie, my dear, why are you crying?" John asked, feigning concern.
Carrie's sobs intensified as she replied, "Diska is dead."
"It was probably Sam who was jealous," John said smugly.
"No, I don't believe that," Carrie said, sniffling.
"Carrie, you need to calm down and drink this delicious tea," John said, handing her the glass with a hidden smile. "It will make you feel better."
Carrie gratefully accepted the glass and took a large gulp. Almost immediately, she collapsed to the ground, and John's smile widened.
Surprised, John's jaw dropped as the realization sank in—she was still alive. "She didn't die," he muttered in disbelief. Carrie smiled gratefully, thanking John for the tea. "Yeah, you're welcome," he responded, perplexed. In a hushed whisper, John couldn't help but question, "How is this bitch still alive?"
Deep in the basement, Sam labored fervently to repair a machine in dire distress. Sparks crackled and danced in the air around him. As he reached for an unfamiliar tool, the table suddenly began to shake violently. Before Sam could steady the machine, it exploded with a deafening roar, causing the table and a bookshelf to topple onto him. The impact was brutal, severing one of his arms and crushing his leg. His mother, alerted by the commotion, rushed downstairs to find her son amidst a scene of carnage, blood splattered everywhere.
With a frantic look in her eyes, Carrie searched through the rubble, her voice trembling as she called out, "Sam, my love, are you there?" Suddenly, she spotted his arm and heard a weak cough. "Mom," Sam uttered feebly, struggling to move from beneath the heavy debris. "Hold on, Sam, Momma is coming," she replied, determined to free him. As she cleared the rubble, a heartbreaking sight emerged—Sam's arm had been severed, leaving only a small nub. Tears streamed down Sam's face as he said, "Just let me die, Mom. I killed Diska." Carrie's heart ached as she gently lifted her son, consoling him, "You didn't kill him, Sam. He had a heart attack because he was distraught over hurting you."
""I failed, Yo is dead, why should I live?" Sam cried. Carrie, holding back her own tears, responded, "Because saving Yo was not your responsibility, and you could not have saved Diska either. We need to have you evaluated." As she said this, Carrie lifted her son up.
Months later
In the dilapidated house, black-clad figures exuded an aura of profound sadness. Sam, though now equipped with newly acquired limbs, was still grappling with the inability to save his loved ones. Carrie's repeated assurances that it wasn't his fault brought him no solace, only deepening his sorrow. John, rarely present at home, seemed to be on the brink of a dire action.
After visiting the family cemetery, all the children returned home with their mother. Some were in tears, while others seemed bewildered by their emotions. Sam, in particular, experienced a profound shift in his feelings. Alongside the sadness, he felt a peculiar anger growing within him. That night, Carrie and John, two of the adults present, engaged in a conversation outside. John offered Carrie a glass of tea and urged her to drink it.
She, being so depressed, drank every drop of the poisonous tea.he had tried to poison her before but diska drank that tea. He was smiling with a most evil grin. She fell to the ground with a thump. He picked up her lifeless body taking her to the cemetery burying her in the family plot.once he was done with that dark deed he came back to the house were his supposed family was sleeping and struck a match throwing it inside the house.
Before the fire, John had meticulously checked that all doors and windows were securely locked. What he didn't know as he watched the house's flames consume it from a distance was that only a few inhabitants escaped the blaze. Tragically, others were burned alive in their beds. Amidst the raging inferno, John's laughter echoed, contrasting the screams heard down the street from the Smith household. Within minutes, the entire house was engulfed in flames.
From the pile of ash, Sam emerged, his mouth a wide gap of shock. The realization of what had happened dawned on him as he sat there, surrounded by remnants of his former life. His family, his home - everything was gone. "No!" he cried out, scooping up a handful of warm ash and sobbing. The word "no" echoed in his ears as he whispered it to himself over and over again. "This can't be. Everything is gone. My family, my home." Sam's voice shattered the silence as he screamed and flung his tear-filled hands toward the sky.