A Silence Before The Storm

The morning air in Seoul was thick with the weight of something dark, the city stretching wide beneath a sky that felt like it had given up. A blend of steel and concrete stood on every corner, towering over the students walking to their high school—Hanwon High. Among them was Dorian Kael, his footsteps slow, deliberate, a figure caught between the world he was forced to live in and the one he dreamed of escaping.

It had been years since he stepped foot into this building, and yet every day felt like another reminder of his broken past. The laughter of his classmates echoed through the hallways, but it wasn't the kind of laughter that came from genuine joy. No, it was the kind of laughter that tore at your insides, the laughter of people who found amusement in the suffering of others.

Dorian had always been a quiet kid, someone who blended into the background. But that was never enough for them. The kids who surrounded him, those faces that always turned away when he needed help, those eyes that saw him as nothing more than a punching bag—they had been the architects of his misery. They were the ones who pushed him to the edge, the ones who left him with nothing but rage coursing through his veins.

The first memory he had of their cruelty was from the first year of high school. A cruel joke—his lunch money, taken. The next year, it escalated. Mocking him for his quiet demeanor. Pushing him around in the hallways. Calling him names that made his skin crawl, names that made him feel like an animal, nothing more than something to be discarded. They had always been in packs, their laughter deafening, their words cutting deeper than any knife could.

Then, there was the physical violence. It started with a shove. Then a punch. The bruises that formed on his body, the aching pain that he carried with him every day—reminders of the torment they subjected him to. But it was the mental abuse that had broken him the most. The whispers in the corners of the classrooms, the insults that never stopped. They knew exactly where to strike, where to wound. They knew that every jab at his self-worth would leave him with a scar that could never heal.

But the day it all changed—the day that broke Dorian beyond repair—was when they decided to take it further. They cornered him after school, just like they always did. He could feel the familiar dread building in his chest. But this time, they weren't just going to humiliate him. No, they had a plan.

"You're nothing but a loser, Kael," one of them sneered, his voice dripping with venom. It was Jung Minseok, the leader of the group. "You'll always be this way. Pathetic. Weak."

The others laughed, the sound like nails scraping against his skull.

Dorian had tried to fight back, tried to raise his fists, but it was no use. They overwhelmed him, each punch landing harder than the last. They dragged him to the ground, kicking him, laughing as they stomped on him. He could feel the pain in every inch of his body, but it was the words that cut deeper.

"You're a coward," Minseok spat. "A worthless piece of shit."

It was then that something inside Dorian snapped. Something deep and primal, something that had been buried beneath the surface for so long. His vision went red, and for the first time, he felt power surge through him. He grabbed Minseok's leg, twisting it with a force that made the boy scream in agony. He didn't stop there. He didn't care.

Dorian fought with a ferocity that surprised him, slamming his fists into Minseok's face, not caring about the blood splattering on his knuckles. The others ran, terrified, but Dorian was lost in a frenzy. He didn't stop until Minseok was a heap on the ground, barely conscious.

Breathing heavily, Dorian stood over him, staring down at the broken boy beneath him. His heart pounded in his chest. The rage, the pain—it all boiled over. But it didn't feel like victory. No, it felt like emptiness. It felt like death.

The days after that moment were a blur. Minseok was hospitalized, and Dorian was expelled from Hanwon High. The world around him seemed to collapse, and he was left with nothing but the silence of his own thoughts. His emotions were a storm of contradictions—he hated them, but he hated himself even more. The violent outburst had brought him nothing but a fleeting sense of control, but it hadn't fixed anything.

As the months went on, Dorian found himself drifting further from reality. The memories of his time at Hanwon High haunted him like shadows that never left, and the faces of his classmates—those who had stood by, those who had joined in his torment—were etched into his mind. He could feel their laughter, their words, their eyes. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw their faces.

But there was no escape. No matter how far he ran, no matter how much blood he spilled, there was no way to silence the voices that whispered in the dark.

It was late one night when the silence was broken again. Dorian was standing on a rooftop, staring out at the city below. The lights from the buildings flickered in the distance, but it didn't comfort him. He felt like a ghost, drifting through a world that no longer mattered. The city—Seoul—was just another prison.

The sound of footsteps behind him broke his thoughts, and he turned, recognizing the figure that approached. It was Minseok. His face was bruised, swollen, but there was something different about him now. A glint in his eyes, a coldness.

"You think you've won, don't you?" Minseok's voice was low, dangerous. "You think you're better than me now because you hurt me? You're just like the rest of us, Kael. You'll never escape."

Dorian's hand tightened around the edge of the rooftop, his breath ragged.

"You don't get it," Dorian whispered, his voice trembling, not with fear, but with something else. "I'm not like you. I've already died a thousand times. I just didn't realize it until now."

Minseok sneered. "So you think you can escape death by embracing it? You're pathetic. You're still that same coward who couldn't even protect himself in school."

Dorian took a step forward, his eyes cold, his voice barely audible. "I don't need to escape. Death is already here. We're all already dead. The only difference is, you're still pretending to live."

The wind howled through the city, but Dorian felt nothing. No relief. No redemption. Just a deep, unrelenting darkness that had swallowed him whole.

Minseok lunged at him, fury in his eyes, but Dorian was faster. With a single, swift motion, he grabbed Minseok's wrist and twisted it until a sickening crack echoed through the night. The boy collapsed to the ground, crying out in agony.

Dorian stood over him, his face expressionless, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like a thousand tons of stone.

"I'm not like you," Dorian whispered again, his words colder than any blade.

Minseok's cries were swallowed by the wind, and the darkness that had claimed Dorian's soul continued to spread. He turned and walked away, leaving the broken boy behind.

As he walked through the streets of Seoul, Dorian didn't feel victorious. He didn't feel anything. He was beyond the reach of pain now, beyond the reach of salvation. The city around him was nothing but a maze of empty streets, the people nothing more than ghosts passing through his life.

The world was a wound, and Dorian Kael was its knife.

But no matter how many people he hurt, no matter how many ghosts he created, he knew one thing. The pain would never end. And neither would he.

Fin.