PISTANTHROPHOBIA

Prolog.

Prolog.

The sound was faint and hoarse, combined with the roar of ambulance sirens and police cars. Blood splattered on the dry asphalt with the moaning sound of a child curled up in the embrace of a young man who was covered with cuts on his skin. The medical team arrived to rescue them, but before that, a police chief was calling to immediately evacuate the surviving victims. The young man got up with the little boy in his arms--- gave the child to the police chief.

"Give him the last name Palmerah. Take care and protect him like your own son!" The young man smiled warmly at the little boy, then looked hopefully at the police chief.

"Wait son, don't go there because the car is about to explode!" The young man did not heed the warnings and directions of several police officers so as not to head for the overturned car on the side of the road.

When the young man managed to remove the body of a middle-aged woman whose body was covered in blood, the car suddenly exploded and gave off a fire after a few minutes before emitting smoke. Before the young man took the elderly woman out of the car, he threw a box made of steel, so that it soared and was caught by a medical team.

The little boy's cry broke out in the arms of the police chief. The little boy could only cry and cry choked to call the people he loved so much.

"Sorry sir, this is the box that the young man threw!" A medical team who captured the steel box passed it to the police chief and was received with a large question mark in the head of the police.

"Son, there is an uncle here and uncle promised to look after and take care of you!" The police chief tried to comfort the little boy by continuing to explain that everything was all right.

"Sob, they're bad guys!" The little boy made a sound when he was put to sleep in an ambulance cage accompanied by the medical team and the police chief.

"I'm sure if this is a murder scenario." The police chief contacted his subordinate, an intelligence agent, to investigate the family's case.

"Who are you talking to?" asked the little boy, looking the police chief's eyes.

"An intelligence agent to solve the case just now, boy!" The chief of police saw a glint that was different from that of the little boy's eyes and face.

"What's your name, son?" asked the chief of police, gently stroking the little boy's thick black hair.

"Hanzel!" replied the boy firmly.

"From now on, your name will be Hanzel Palmerah." exclaimed the chief of police with a smile.

"Take good care of your sister. Change your last name to Palmerah, so that you will remember this incident and get revenge from our family."

Hanzel clearly remembered the message his father had told his brother. The feeling of the syringe that had now pierced her skin was as painless as his pain would be betrayed by his family confidants and the loss of those he loved so much.

"You must grow up well and be a tough man,"

"Father and mother love you very much. Never hurt a woman's heart. Keep on remembering your mother and your younger sister who were killed,"

"Always remember dad's message!"

The infusion device is now attached to the back of his hand. The nurse was cleaning the wounds on the skin of his hands and feet. Feels fairy but doesn't seem like remembering the incident where the sharp pain was stabbed into the heart of his five year old sister. As well as his mother's body which was slashed with a knife to peel the fruit skin inhumanely until it ended up in his mother's heart.

The clinking sound of scissors staring at the stenlist basin tickled Hanzel's ears. It sounded like a hot lead popping sound aimed at the father's body but God still gave his father the opportunity to give the last advice to his two sons who were still alive.

Hanzel and his older brother did only get cut wounds on their skin because when the traitors were about to remove the trigger, they heard the screams of residents asking for help because there was a robbery. The perpetrators ultimately failed to execute him and went to run away.

The sound of the car explosion is still clearly recorded in Hanzel's ears and he will never be able to forgive the traitor. He will live very well so that all his family grudges can be realized. Retribution that is far more heartbreaking than just killing with a gun, knife or poison. Returning to killing would leave behind sin, so there must be some other way than killing.

Hanzel stared at the white light sharply with the turmoil of resentment and deep trauma that suddenly lodged in his heart.

The doctor injects sleeping pills on Hanzel. Hanzel closed his eyes with a grudge that replaced the lowest point from within him.

To be continued.

Notes:

Yo, this is English version ;)