Akira sat in his cell, slowly chewing on the lollipop. When he finished, he calmly took the stick out of his mouth and tossed the empty wrapper aside. He didn't move right away. He waited. He listened, his ears catches distant sounds from the corridor. A faint laugh from one of the guards. Footsteps stopping. Side talk at the end of the hall.
When he was sure no one was watching, he held the lollipop stick between his fingers and brought it to his mouth, sharpening it with the same familiar ritual. When he was done, he crawled slowly toward the back corner of the wall. There, behind an old, worn brick, he extended his claws and pulled the stone slightly.
A narrow gap was revealed. Inside it were five other sticks. All identical. All sharpened. He stared at them for a few seconds. Then he carefully slid the new stick among them. After that, he returned the stone to its place very slowly, pressing it until it settled. The gap vanished as if it had never existed.
He went back to his bed, sat down quietly, and closed his eyes. After a moment, he opened them again and whispered to himself, barely audible:
"Not much left…"
He lifted his gaze toward the iron door. The guard stood in his usual spot, his back slightly turned, his mind far away as always.
On a quiet night in the capital Noxar, Filippo was lost in his usual routine. His body was lying and relaxing on the couch, a cigarette burning between his fingers, his eyes are fixed on the television screen without any real interest in what was showing. Silence filled the room, broken only by his heavy breathing and the slow burn of tobacco.
The silence was pierced by three knocks on the door. Filippo's brows tightened in clear annoyance. He let out a sharp breath, crushed his cigarette into the metal ashtray with mild force, and stood up heavily. He walked towards the door with slow, irritated steps and finally opened it, the same rough exhaustion on his face as always.
"Who the hell knocks on my door at this hour?"
Two men in official police uniforms stood before him. Their expressions were stiff, their gazes cold, carrying no courtesy at all. The irritation in Filippo's eyes shifted into quiet caution.
"Mr. Filippo, correct?"
He hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering, as if he's weighing his words.
"Yes, that's me. What is it?"
One of them gave a brief sideways glance to his partner, who pulled out a small notebook and opened it calmly, then began to read in a clear, direct voice:
"We are from the Capital Police, and we came to inform you regarding your son, Akira."
Filippo's face froze. Heavy seconds passed without movement. Then, finally, his voice came out cold:
"Akira? What about that child?"
The two officers exchanged a quick look before the first one spoke:
"He was arrested a few days ago for committing a series of violent crimes in the streets of the capital. He is currently imprisoned at our main detention center. We found it strange that no one asked about him during this time, so we came to inform you, Mr. Filippo."
Filippo showed no immediate shock. He took a deep breath, then let out a short laugh… mocking, empty of concern.
"Hah, so he finally did it, huh? I knew that bastard would be nothing but trouble."
His tone was provocatively indifferent, as if the matter had nothing to do with him. The first officer raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting this reaction.
"Mr. Filippo, this is not a small issue. Your son caused serious injuries to several civilians and attacked police officers during his arrest. We are here to officially inform you of his situation, and also… to see whether you wish to take responsibility for your son in any way before we decide his final fate."
Filippo's lips curved into a side smile filled with contempt. He gave a short laugh and said:
"Take responsibility for him? You must be joking, Officer. That child is not my son. He never was, and he never will be."
A brief silence followed. The two officers exchanged looks again, this time with clearer tension. The second officer spoke, sharper, less patient:
"Sir, regardless of your feelings toward him, you cannot deny that you are his father. You are responsible for him whether you want to be or not."
But Filippo did not argue. He did not defend himself. He simply laughed again and looked at them as if they were fools who still did not understand.
"Listen carefully… that thing was never a part of me. I was just an idiot who got involved with a werewolf, and now I'm paying the price. Do whatever you want with him. Kill him, lock him up, send him to hell… I don't care at all."
A heavy silence settled between the officers for a few seconds after Filippo's shocking reply. The senior officer slowly closed his notebook, then raised his eyes to Filippo. His voice was neutral, but tight:
"I understand… there's nothing else to discuss here."
He turned to his partner and gestured to leave. They moved away without another word. As they were about to go, Filippo's dry voice came from behind them,
"Oh, by the way… don't bother telling me when you execute him. I won't care about that either."
Neither of them turned back. They kept walking until they reached the street. The first officer stopped, pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it calmly, and took a deep drag.
His partner's voice came out filled with anger, close to breaking:
"That bastard… how can a man be that cold toward his own son?! He—"
The other cut him off without looking at him:
"Don't think about it too much. I've seen many like him… some humans are crueler than monsters themselves."
He slowly exhaled the smoke, letting it fade into the dark air.
After a full month of Akira's detention, inside the officers' private meeting room, the high-ranking officer sat behind the metal table, his eyes were fixed on the lined-up reports before him. The other officer stood beside him, waiting.
The officer spoke in a cold voice, without hesitation:
"It's time to end this."
The officer hesitated for a moment before replying:
"Sir… do you mean…?"
The officer slammed the file shut, then lifted his head and stared directly into the other man's eyes.
"Yes. We will carry out the execution. All options have been reviewed. We cannot keep him detained forever, and we cannot risk leaving him alive. This thing is not a child… it is a danger to all of society."
He paused briefly, then continued:
"The execution will take place three days from now."
The officer asked quietly:
"Will it be public?"
The answer came immediately:
"Of course not. It will be done in his cell, without ceremony, and without announcement."
The officer placed both palms on the table and looked towards the guards lined up across the room.
"Prepare everything. Tighten security. I don't want any surprises during the next three days."
Their response was immediate:
"Yes, sir."
In his narrow cell, Akira lay on his bed, his eyes fixed on the gray ceiling. One of the guards stopped by the bars and stared at him longer than necessary.
"Your execution date has been set, monster."
Akira slowly raised his eyebrows, then a small smile appeared on his lips.
"Oh? When?"
The reply came with cold arrogance:
"Three days from now. Prepare for your fate."
A short silence followed. Then a quiet laugh escaped Akira, closer to private amusement.
"Three days? That's a very long time, don't you think? I was hoping you'd do it tomorrow. I'm bored here."
The guard's face twisted in disgust, and he walked away without another word. Akira remained alone, the smile still there. He whispered, barely audible:
"Three days… that's more than enough."
He reached toward the hidden gap in the wall. His fingers slid over the sharp sticks he had made himself, testing their edges. His smile widened slightly.
"Time to play."
Throughout the month, he had not been collecting lollipops for nothing. The number was enough now. He quietly took the sticks out and tied them together one by one with thin threads pulled from his blanket.
The work took a long time, without haste, without sound. In the end, a large, crude dagger took shape, with multiple sharp edges. He returned it to the gap, closed the stone as it was, then went back to his bed.
After three days, the time came. The high-ranking officer stepped forward with steady strides. Armed guards followed behind him, including the policeman who tried to hide his tension, his eyes fixed on the officer's hand holding a heavy silver pistol.
They stopped in front of the cell. The officer's sharp voice rang out:
"Open the door."
The policeman nodded, pulled out the keys with a trembling hand, and slowly turned the lock. When the door opened, Akira was in the corner, his back against the wall, his gaze lowered to the floor.
The moment they entered, everything changed. Akira's eyes widened suddenly. His body began to shake. He dropped to the ground, and his crying burst out loud.
"No! I don't want to die! Please! Don't do this! I—I didn't mean it! I was just scared! Please, give me another chance!"
His small body trembled as he pulled his knees to his chest, as if he's trying to disappear into himself. He curled up on the floor, breathing fast, tears pouring down his cheeks without stopping. He looked so weak it stirred pity.
The officer watched in silence, his face stiff, unchanged. Behind him, the guards exchanged uneasy looks. Doubt began to creep into them against their will.
One of them spoke in an unsteady voice:
"Sir… d-don't you think that he—"
The officer cut him off sharply:
"Don't be fooled."
The pistol rose slowly. Its barrel settled in front of Akira's head as he lay on the floor. Akira lifted his head slightly, his eyes drowning in tears.
"Don't… don't do it… please!"
The officer replied coldly:
"Your time is over, little monster."
Just before the trigger was pulled… The crying stopped. The broken breathing vanished. The trembling disappeared. In a matter of seconds, his expression completely changed. He was no longer the shattered child. A faint, calm, unsettling smile formed on his lips. The smile of someone who knew this moment belonged to him.
He spoke softly, with playful certainty:
"You fell into the trap, Officer."
No one had time to understand. In a single instant, Akira moved with inhuman speed. From beneath his body, the crude weapon appeared, made of sharpened lollipop sticks, a spiked mass like deadly thorns.
His voice rose with sudden excitement:
"Surprise!!"
With one motion, he drove the weapon straight into the officer's chest, without mercy.
"AAAAAH!!"
The weapon was pulled out quickly. The officer staggered back, his hand pressing against his chest as blood poured out heavily. The pistol slipped from his hand. His body collapsed to the ground, writhing as he choked on his breath.
Shock froze the guards. One second was enough. Akira lunged at the nearest guard with a short leap, a decisive movement, the weapon piercing straight through his neck.
"Ggh—!!"
The body stiffened, then fell without resistance. Akira turned toward the others, a wide, insane smile on his face.
"Did you really think I'd die that easily?"
One of them shouted as he raised his weapon:
"Shoot him!!"
But it was already too late. With a swift jump, Akira wrapped his arm around the second guard's neck, dragged him forward, and used him as a shield.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
The bullets fired… but they tore through the guard's body, not Akira. Chaos spread, and fear took over the corridor. Akira laughed loudly, wiping blood off his face with his fingers.
"Oh, how I missed this feeling… freedom!"
He moved toward the third guard. His body was shaking, his hand unable to steady the weapon. His eyes were locked on that child who was no longer a child.
His voice came out broken:
"S-s-stay back… y-you—!"
He didn't finish. Akira rushed at him, grabbed his head with both hands, and slammed it hard into the wall. The impact was sharp. The body dropped, motionless.
Akira took a deep breath, then turned to the last guard. The man had thrown his weapon away, fallen to his knees, and raised his hands while trembling.
"Please… don't kill me…!"
Akira stared at him for a long second… then he laughed.
He tilted his head slightly and said mockingly:
"Huh? You want mercy? After all this?"
He stepped closer and said:
"I'm not like you. I don't kill the weak."
He bent down, picked up the guard's weapon from the floor, then stood up again and turned his back on him.
"Hide somewhere. Maybe you'll live until tomorrow."
Akira moved slowly, then stopped by the officer who was still crawling on the ground, coughing blood, clinging to his last breaths. Akira looked at him with eyes burning with hatred.
"You… you must die…"
Akira smiled calmly.
"You already tried to kill me. You failed."
He raised the weapon and aimed it directly at the officer's head.
He spoke in a calm… deadly voice:
"Goodbye, Officer."
"Bang!!"
One shot ended everything.