DARK PARADISE

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎

Morning light filtered through the windows, casting long shadows on the wooden floor. The warmth from the hearth barely reached the chill that had settled between us. The previous nights tension hung in the air, an unspoken barrier that neither of us seemed to cross.

I sat at the table, picking at my breakfast with a dull fork. Eren, across from me, seemed equally disinterested, his movements methodical, almost mechanical. We exchanged occasional glances but kept our words to a minimum, the awkwardness palpable.

Finally, Eren broke the silence, his voice unusually soft. "You know, despite everything, I'd say you're handling this better than most would."

His words hung in the air, and I looked up, trying to read his expression. "Handling what?"

Eren glimpsed at me, his eyes momentarily betraying a flicker of something I couldn't quite decipher. Then he shrugged as if dismissing the gravity of his next words. "Surely, someone has mentioned that you're the daughter of a sadistic murderer."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. I felt the fork slip from my hand, its clang on the plate loud from the sudden stillness. "What did you just say?"

His gaze locked with mine, a flicker of realisation crossing his face, but he quickly masked it with indifference. "The rumours, the stories that
circulate—"

I could barely hear him over the rush of blood in my ears. The man who had always been a source of warmth and affection in my life—a sadistic murderer? The notion was so absurd, it was almost laughable, but the seriousness in Eren's eyes stopped me from laughing.

I stood abruptly, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. "That's impossible," I said, my voice trembling despite my efforts to sound firm. "My father would never—"

"Never what?" Eren's voice was low, and though he tried to mask it, I could hear the underlying challenge. "He's not the saint you think he is. People talk. They've seen things."

I felt a surge of anger. How dare he make such claims about someone I revered? My hands clenched into fists on the table. "You don't know anything about my father. How could you even—"

"I know what I've heard," Eren cut in, his voice firm but not unkind. "And I've seen the effects of such actions firsthand. It's not something you can easily ignore."

His words pierced through me like shards of ice. How could he speak so casually about something so horrific? My father, the man who had shown me nothing but love and protection, was suddenly cast in the light of a monster. The disparity between the man I knew and the one Eren described was too vast to comprehend.

I turned away from him, my heart racing I needed to get away, to escape from the oppressive weight of the accusation. Without another word, I made my way to the guest room where I had been staying. The familiar surroundings offered no comfort as I entered, only the stark reality of my inner turmoil.

The room was quiet, a contrast to the storm raging inside me. I sank onto the edge of the bed, trying to steady my breath. The bed, usually a place to rest now felt like a trap. I pressed my hands to my face, trying to block out the chaotic swirl of thoughts and emotions.

My mind raced through fragmented memories—my father's kindness but what really came back to me was the rare arguments he used to have with my mother. Had they been more than just marital discord? Were those arguments about something darker? Something I had been shielded from my whole life?

I remembered the day my mother had died, her mutilated body a horrific sight scarred into my mind so badly I still get nightmares that make me relive that day. Her death had been explained as an assassination, but now, faced with Eren's words, I questioned everything. Had my father been involved in that death? Could he have been capable of such brutality?