In the dim shadows beneath the ancient river bridge, chaos unfolded like a dark storm threatening to swallow the night whole. A boy, barely fifteen years old, was dragged mercilessly across the cold, cracked concrete by rough, scarred hands. His clothes were torn, his body smeared with blood and dirt. He was mute and blind, but the terror in his heart was loud and clear. The men who held him were ruffians—local thugs bound by cruelty and greed, their faces twisted with malice and contempt.
At their helm walked a middle-aged man whose very presence commanded silent fear. Dark glasses with thick golden frames hid his calculating eyes, while a few golden teeth gleamed menacingly whenever he sneered. Heavy rings adorned his thick fingers, which gripped the boy's arm like iron shackles. His belly, swollen and taut beneath a stained (pregnant man), worn shirt, hinted at a life of power and indulgence. This man was no ordinary citizen—he was the mayor of the sprawling conurbation, a figure both feared and respected, wielding political influence that reached every corner of the town's underbelly.
A handful of townspeople had gathered, their faces pale with shock and worry. Among them were the Whisperers( simple words those who can talk and make bond with whisps) , men and women bound by an invisible pacts to powerful pets—wild, fierce beasts tamed by sheer will and trust. These whisps were the town's silent protectors, loyal beyond reason to their masters and the boy who had long cared for them. The mute boy loved all creatures with a fierce tenderness few could understand. He played with even those untamed beasts, the wildest and most dangerous, and they trusted him without fear. Everyone in towns knows it very well.
Now, many of those whisps had come to his aid, their eyes glowing in the darkness, bodies poised and ready to defend. They lunged, snarling and clawing at the ruffians, their loyalty fierce and desperate. But despite their valiant efforts, the ruffians held their ground, fending off every attack with brutal precision. Even the wildest, most untameable beasts could not change the outcome. Then they heard....
A sudden, terrifying roar shattered the night's tense silence, echoing off the damp walls of the bridge and shaking the very air. The creatures—fearless and loyal as they were—trembled with sudden dread. Their growls faltered, eyes darting toward the source of that primal sound. Even the masters, seasoned in commanding monsters, found themselves frozen in fear. The power that roared through the darkness was unlike anything they had faced before.
Helpless, the crowd watched as the boy was thrown hard onto the cracked concrete, his body barely able to absorb the impact. The ruffians' blows rained down like a storm—fists and boots striking with brutal intent. The boy cried out silently beneath his bruises and blood, unable to fight back, his spirit battered as much as his body. Blood oozed from fresh cuts, mingling with swelling bruises that spread across his skin like dark shadows. His battered form was a tragic canvas painted with cruelty.
Nearby, police officers lingered on the edge of the chaos, their faces grim but unmoving. Everyone knew who the man with the golden glasses was—his name whispered with fear in every corner of the town. They dared not interfere, caught in the heavy shadow of his ruthless influence.
"Beat this fucking thief!" the middle-aged man spat, his voice thick with venom. "This little bastard stole eggs from right under my nose!"
The crowd's murmurs shifted from shock to disbelief. This boy is just a mute boy, earning money for living. For long years, he had struggled in silence—an orphan raised within the town's whisps taming orphanage. Each year, he had failed to awaken his own creature companion, the sacred rite that marked one's place among the masters. This year was his last chance. And now, this: an accusation that could destroy everything.
"Shitty bastard of a whore!" sneered one of the ruffians, stepping forward with a cruel grin. "You were supposed to be the orphanage's first success. But all you've done is ruin the ceremony and waste our money!" The men jeered, their hatred boiling over like a festering wound. "Beat him to death! Show him no mercy!"
Yet amid the brutality, whispers stirred among the watching townsfolk. They knew this boy—the mute, blind boy who was fiercely kind to every creature he had ever touched. Year after year, new pets had arrived at the orphanage, nurtured under his quiet care. He didn't just tame the creatures—he played with them, even the wild ones others feared. They trusted him, and now many had gathered, their snarls and roars echoing his pain and pleading for mercy. But even their fierce loyalty could not protect him from the ruffians' savage cruelty.
Some townsfolk stepped forward, fists clenched and hearts pounding, ready to defend the boy who had touched their lives. But when the police confirmed the identity of the middle-aged man—their authority unquestioned—even the bravest faltered. Fear anchored them in place, their hope fading like smoke in the cold night.
A few hurried away, faces pale and voices trembling, to summon the orphanage's caretaker—hoping desperately to unravel the tangled truth behind the boy's desperate fate. For now, the bridge fell silent once more, the boy's battered body left beneath the indifferent river sky, the cold wind carrying away the echoes of a night that would change everything.