PROLOGUE

NOVEMBER, 2014

           "Get back here, right now! Quit running, you little rascal!" A rotund man yelled as he chased after a raven haired eight years old boy who raced down the dark alley, his heart thudding madly. The air was cold and the night was still quite young but the little boy knew he had to escape as quickly as possible from his pursuer.

Suddenly, he tripped over an empty can of soda and fell to the ground with a cry, his knees scraping the rough asphalt. Whimpering, he pushed himself to his feet, his breathing coming out in short pants. Tears soon blurred his vision at the realization that his pursuer was quickly catching up to him. His stomach growled angrily and his face was numb from the bitter, cold, winter air. Unable to go on anymore, he fell to the ground, gasping for breath.

Almost immediately, a large hand gripped the back of his shirt and dragged him to his feet. "You thought you could escape? Well, sorry boy. But you ain't going nowhere" the man hissed. The little boy trembled in fear, wondering how this man who used to be so kind and gentle at school had suddenly transformed into a raging beast. A monster.

Few minutes ago, he had left his home in order to purchase medicine for his sick mother and had accidentally run into a horrifying scene. His maths teacher had just murdered one of his classmates with a knife. Instinctively, he'd fled from the spot, afraid that his teacher was going to kill him next. But now, he was sure that he was going to get killed since he'd failed to escape.

"Please- Please- don't hurt me" he whimpered as his teacher brought the bloodied knife to the front of his shirt and rubbed it all over him. The little boy began to cry as his teacher began to rub the blood on his face and arms. With a taunting smile on his face, the man handed the knife over to the little boy.

"Please, sir-"

"You know what? I should frame you for murder, shouldn't I?"

"I didn't kill anyone"

"Well, you're holding a blood stained knife. What are you going to do now? Maybe I should kill you just like I killed your friend. Don't worry, I'll be doing it with my bare hands this time" the man said and the little boy stared at his teacher with hate in his brown eyes.

"You look like an angry kitten, right now. Don't worry, I will make sure it won't hurt so much" he drawled and pounced on the boy, wrapping his fat fingers around his neck. The boy let out a scream and began to squirm, trying desperately to free himself as he struggled to breathe. His head pounded hard, his heartbeat going haywire.

I don't want to die, it was all he could think of.

Through blurry vision, he raised the knife and stabbed his attacker in the ear. Alarmed, the man tried to take away the knife from him but he wouldn't have it. Instead, he stabbed him again and again, crying harder as the coppery smell of blood hit his nose. He didn't stop, not even when his attacker had fallen to the ground, unmoving. He didn't stop, not even when his attacker's blood was now on his hands and face. He didn't stop until he finally passed out on the snow, face as white as sheets.