Tangled Threads

Chapter 1

Vansh's pov:

Silence.

Silence precided over the space, save for the soft hum of the industrial fan overhead. I could hear his breathing-ragged uneven. If anyone else was in my place he would definitely say, the man before me was in a pitiful sight.

But, I am not anyone else and I don't pity anyone, I quite enjoy this.

Sadist? Well, maybe.

But what did it matter?

I continue staring at the man before me, tied to a chair, his face swollen, body trembling from the hours of pain I'd made him endure.Blood trickled down his forehead, a slow reminder of the fragility of human life.

I pursue my stare, feeling nothing. Not a shred of guilt, anger,or even satisfaction. It was always like this. The world tried to convince you that emotions were necessary-that they defined you, made you human.But in the end, emotions were just noise, a distraction from the truth.

The truth that this world would operated on power, and power alone. Everything else? It was a void.

I took a step closer, crouching to meet his eyes. His lips trembled,as though he wanted to speak,but he had no strength left.

Pathetic.

"You want to know something?" I said, my voice calm, controlled"You thought I'd feel something after this, didn't you?Maybe some remorse, maybe some hesitation. But I don't."

His eyes widened,just a little. A faint spark of hope maybe? That somehow, I'd let him go.

That I'd be overcome by guilt and let him live.

Fool.

"There's nothing." I continued, standing up straight again."I look at you and all I see is emptiness. No rage, no regret,  nothing. Just... void."

I reached inside my jacket, feeling the cool metal of the gun against my fingers. I pulled it out slowly, deliberately.

The light from the single hanging bulb glinted off the barrel as I raised it, pointing it directly at his head. His breathing hitched, but I could see it now- the acceptance, the resignation.

Maybe, just maybe, he finally understood.

"This world..." I muttered, more to myself than him "is chaos. And in chaos feelings are meaningless, you have been putting up chaos more than you are bounded. Feelings are meaningless, there is emptiness swallowing it whole."

I pulled the trigger.

The shot echoed in the small room, bouncing off the concrete walls. His body slumped forward, lifeless, blood pooling beneath th chair.

I stared at him for a moment longer, but there was no change inside me. Nothing.

Just silence.

Holstering the gun, I turned away walking toward the door.  I didn't need to look back. The devil swallowed him whole, with emptiness spreading in the surroundings.

The door clicked shut behind me with a soft thud, muffled by the opulence of the house. I paused in the entryway, the weight of the day hanging off my shoulders like a shroud. The familiar scent of jasmine wafted through the hall, mixing with the warmth that radiated from the soft amber lights overhead. It was comforting, in theory, but here… it felt artificial. Hollow.

For a moment, I stood there, frozen in the quiet. The events of the past few hours still clung to me, as if the screams, the blood, the final echo of the gunshot were etched beneath my skin. But as always, there was nothing. No residual anger. No regret. Just the endless void.