The Outcast's Rebirth

CHAPTER 11: Broken

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Kyzzu's cries echoed across the lake, filled with a grief so deep it seemed to echo from the very depths of his soul. His brother's lifeless body lay in his arms, and everything around him faded into the background, consumed by his sorrow. He wailed, his voice raw and broken, as if the pain within him could only be expressed through these agonizing sounds.

But Kyzzu was not alone.

Unbeknownst to him, his cries had reached the ears of someone who had been lurking nearby-Winston. Drawn by the sound of Kyzzu's anguish, Winston approached the lake, his footsteps silent as he observed the scene before him.

There was Kyzzu, the young man he had once entangled in a web of confusion and desire, now cradling his brother's body, lost in a sea of despair.

When Kyzzu finally looked up and saw Winston, a surge of intense hatred overwhelmed him. The man who had once seemed so mysterious, who had ignited feelings within Kyzzu that he hadn't fully understood, was now the object of his purest loathing.

Without hesitation, Kyzzu reached for the knife in Renzi's sheath, his hands trembling with rage. He stood, though his legs wobbled from exhaustion and sorrow, and advanced on Winston with the blade, every ounce of his strength driven by the desire to end the man who had brought so much pain into his life.

"Why?" Kyzzu's voice trembled as he spoke In His language, both from anger and the tears that still streamed down his face. "Why did you do this to me?!"

Winston easily sidestepped Kyzzu's attack, his expression shifting into something cold and distant. Kyzzu's strength failed him, and he nearly collapsed, his body giving way to the weight of his emotions. He was such a fool, a stupid, mindless animal that only cared for himself and some foreigner. Renzi was right the whole time.

A cruel smile twisted Winston's lips as he looked down at Kyzzu.

"You really took our fling too hard." he said, his tone filled with mockery. "Get this straight, little boy, You were nothing more a means of information and a way to get laid in this jungle, Kyzzu. And besides, you were the one moaning and crying under me to release inside you, is this how you usually do for the men of this village?"

Kyzzu's world crumbled as Winston's words hit him like a physical blow. He had been deceived, used, and discarded, and the realization of it tore at his heart. "I trusted you!" Kyzzu cried, his voice breaking. "You made me believe-"

"Believe what?" Winston cut him off, his voice icy. "That you were special? That I actually cared about you? How naive. You were just something different, something exotic to keep me entertained. And for that you were at least worth something."

Kyzzu dropped to his knees, the knife slipping from his hand as he wept. The betrayal was too much to bear. The man who had once made him feel valued, who had filled him with hope and longing, was now tearing him apart with every cruel word.

Winston's laughter echoed in the stillness of the night, the sound devoid of warmth. "Pathetic," he sneered. "You're just like the rest of them-weak, Naïve and foolish."

Kyzzu's heart shattered, but he had no strength left to fight. He barely reacted as Winston grabbed him roughly, forcing him to the ground. His limbs felt heavy, his spirit crushed beneath the weight of his grief and the betrayal that had left him hollow.

As Winston bound him with strong ropes, Kyzzu's thoughts drifted back to his brother, to the village, and to the life that had been so violently taken from him. His tears mingled with the dirt on his face as Winston dragged him through the forest, each step taking him further from the life he had once known, from the brother he had failed to save.