Shiroi akuma - the white devil.

The end of the beginning.

I'm not much for people. I'm very anti-social if you must. My name is Sora and my parents need help.

It all started in Korea last year...

Sora: "Dad! You got a bite! you got a bite! quick, reel it in!"

Mark: "I got it Sora! I got it!", Mark reeled the fish in, Sora catching it under the rod with his black net.

Nadeshiko: "Ooo! Boys what is it? that was an amazing catch" Nadeshiko had gotten closer to snap a pic, but ran as soon as it flapped at her. Sora was creased, watching his mother run away from a fish that was roughly 4-6 pound.

Sora: "Oh, it's a Carp dad. Thats the third one in four days. Do you think we'll be able catch a Pike?"

Mark: "Eventually, son. But we're fishing on sweetcorn and pallets. Pike eat fish and baby ducklings, so we'd have to get a fishing licence to fish on live bait here. But eventually."

Sora smiled and started packing everything up whilst his dad released the small Carp back into the water. Nadeshiko carried a few things into the back of their car, and got in, waiting for her beloved husband and her only son.

When they arrived home, Nadeshiko put their Tea on whilst Mark had a quick shower and Sora put his shoes on, so he could quicky nip the shop to get some bread and sweetcorn for tea - Considering they fished on all the sweetcorn they had in.

{Sora's POV}

"I'm off!" I shouted, my mother nodded to me in agreemet, but I was only to be a few minutes. The shop was literally down the road.

A black car pulled up two doors down, it had tinted windows all around the car and all but the tire rims were black. I couldn't see inside or anything. I just assumed they were waiting for Mr. and Ms. Etchi, our next door but one neighbours. They were lovely people, they lost their Daughter, Miriah, two years ago whilst she was walking home. Some homeless man high on every substance imaginable came limping and stumbling behind her and stabbed her right in her spinal cord. Once she was down, he took her bag and the bit of pocket money she had in her pocket that her parents gave her for after school. No one helped her, they all just looked and ran. My father is the person that gave her the 10% chance of living after that, except she'd be paralysed. She lasted 4 hours and 23 minutes before she quietly passed away.

But anyway, I got to the little corner store and grabbed two tins of sweetcorn and a loaf of bread. Dad will be out of the shower by now, so that means whilst the sweetcorn is in and the roasts and everything else is cooling, I can quickly shower and then be all fresh for food.

'I have a pretty good life', I thought to myself as I gently swung the bag back and forth, humming to myself. The black car is gone, but I have a REALLY bad feeling, and my senses - for a strange reason - are never wrong.

The door was open a crack, but I just assumed my mother may have left it open for me. Oh, how wrong I was. I had entered to pools and pools of blood, our would be dinner all over the floor and my parents...gone.

I dropped the bags on the floor, denting one of the tins by the sounds of it.