A pure smiling

/!\ This story can hurt the sensibilities of some people.

When Necros was young, he was a reserved and timid boy, which earned him several remarks and bullying. However, he remained silent, keeping his childish smile, always remembering his mother's advice, "if you're being bothered, ignore them, show that it doesn't affect you, you're strong, my son." So, every day, he endured. Sometimes it was beatings, other times his head shoved into toilets, but he took it all. He spent all those years in school as the punching bag for others, but he kept his smile thanks to his little sister, who saw him as a hero, never crying, always getting back up.

Every evening, he told her fantastic stories with dragons, elves, princesses, and she listened with shining, admiring eyes. As the years passed, the repetitive humiliations brought out his darkness. The stories became darker, more violent, bloodier without him even realizing it, but he still told them with a smile for his little sister, who had looked at him with the same admiration for years. Was she even listening to what he was saying? Or did she just love the sound of his voice and his radiant smile? He didn't care; she was his little sister, seeing her smile was enough for him and gave him strength, in short, she was his strength and his reason to keep living.

Necros attended a school that combined middle and high school. Was it a blessing or a curse?

A blessing, because his little wonder would join him there, but the animals that harassed him were still there...

Another year of torment was about to begin for Necros.

Nothing had changed since middle school; he was still the target of others' bullying. But this time, his sister saw it; she saw her big brother being mistreated, humiliated, she saw the blood on his face, she saw the blows raining down on him, but he continued to look at her with the same smile that said, "don't worry." His smile was his only weapon; he had convinced himself all his life that indifference would work against animals; his mother had never lied to him, so why shouldn't he listen to her?

His mother's advice paid off, much to Necros's dismay...

Unfortunately for him, the animals were thinking; seeing his constant gaze on his sister and his constant ignorance since middle school had finally wearied the monsters, who preferred a target that would directly affect Necros, a target he couldn't ignore.

The animals who persecuted him began to target his little sister.

At first, he didn't notice; they were just minor "falls," but he heard her crying every night... Then the bruises were bigger, more noticeable. He cursed himself for not noticing earlier... He planned to make them pay... No one touches his little sister... He missed several days of school; he had excellent grades, missing classes wouldn't change anything. Did he work during his absences? No, he was preparing his playground, a small hidden room in the basement, known only to him. He soundproofed the room, bought tools, a table, hooks... Those who hurt his sister must suffer.

As the days passed, his playroom was ready, but his sister spoke less and was more injured... Their mother asked questions, but she didn't answer them. She couldn't know, but he did... He knew.

He finally returned to school; during his absences, the beatings had tripled, but he kept his smile, thinking of his sister. However, he didn't see her all day... After school, he was taken into an alley; he thought he was going to suffer again, but no, not this time, his mysterious but beautiful smile disappeared with his sister's body, bloody and on the ground... She looked at him, smiling, tears filling her eyes... Her gaze and her smile said, "you saw, big brother... I'm strong too." Necros hadn't noticed her at first, but his sister's clothes were torn, and an animal still had his pants around his ankles. For the first time in his life, tears flowed; his sister's vision managed to make him cry.

"I... I'm going to kill you... Slice you like pigs... Torture you, make you scream like the animals you are..." Necros's smile began to return, but it was no longer joyful and childish; it was unhealthy and filled with desire. What pleasure it was to speak his mind.

The animals smashed him one last time before leaving... He brought his unconscious sister's body home, under the intrigued gaze of passersby. Ignoring his mother's questions, he took his sister to the bathroom to "purify" her. He took care of her like a baby and swore to avenge her.

There were three of them... He knew their names and faces. All three disappeared into Necros's playroom.

They were hanging on hooks like pigs in a slaughterhouse, screaming, cursing, and crying. Necros, meanwhile, watched them smiling, imagining a thousand ways to torture them. The first one, the one with his pants still down, was named Nick. He was lying on the table, his arms and legs tied with straps. Necros began to spin scissors around his finger before violently bringing them down on Nick's arm, opening and closing them, tearing his muscles. The other limbs underwent the same treatment; Nick screamed to death.

"Scream louder, little pig," a burst of blood came out of his eye, sliding the scissors embedded in it.

The three animals apologized, crying all the tears of their bodies.

"It's too late for apologies."

He walked slowly, looking at his prey, thinking about which instrument to use. He stopped at a small hammer, weighed it, nodded, and approached the pig. He tapped his body, thinking, under the beast's panicked gaze, and as if struck by inspiration, struck Nick's private parts with all his might, crushing them like twigs. He breathed his last with this final blow.

The second one was named Josh, smaller and weaker than the other two with a rat-like head. Pointed nose, small deceitful black eyes, greasy hair, a societal reject.

"So, my little rat, caught in the trap?"

Necros took a peeler and began to skin the rat, making him scream like a mouse. He breathed his last before the end of his torture... Pathetic, extremely pathetic. Necros then cut him into pieces with Rage, but without losing his smile; blood flowed, splattering all around him. That smell, that taste... Blood is the best thing in this rotten world to the core. It's pure, tasty, and keeps you young forever.

The third one was named Nicolas. He was the alpha of the group that ruined Necros's entire school life and devised the plan to harm his sister... Lying on the table, this dog was worthless alone. Necros smiled as he looked at him on the table; his hatred for him was evident in his smile. "So, little dog, without your pack, are you still proud?"

His revenge began by cutting his tendons and muscles with scissors. Each inflicted wound was immediately treated to avoid blood loss and continue the pleasure. Taking the small peeler again, bits of skin flew around the room, but the dog was resilient and didn't die so easily... However, he whimpered and cried like a bitch, increasing Necros's pleasure even more.

Another change of instrument, this time, it was a huge mallet, like those at the fairgrounds. One blow... The arm crushed, a second... The second arm crushed. The more the poodle cried, the more Necros laughed.

"That's for my sister," the final note of the hammer was to castrate the mutt. Alive, after all he had endured, he was still alive. To his great surprise, the grand finale could now begin.

With his sister's scissors in hand, he slowly opened the belly, enough to make a hole, but not enough to kill.

"Say hello to your new friends," softly, he emptied a jar filled with insects, larvae, spiders, cockroaches, under Nicolas's shocked and pleading gaze. The insects wriggled in his body, occasionally bothering Necros in his sewing.

One step... Two steps... Necros stepped back, proud of his work, extending his arms as if to greet his audience, imagining applause with Nicolas's cries.

"Did you see, my Chloe, did you see my masterpiece?"

Necros turned around, and before him, his little sister smiled at him, a smile that said thank you.

His mother discovered, while cleaning the basement, the secret room, as well as her son's sinister passion. The only response he gave was, "Chloe asked me to do it, so I did it, and anyway, they didn't deserve any better," without losing his usual smile, childish, kind, and pure. But one detail plunged this poor scapegoat into general incomprehension; his sister died the evening of her assault.

He spent several years in a psychiatric hospital, where he was still the scapegoat, even by the doctors. But he never lost his smile because his sister was with him; she is always with him. She advised and comforted him.

He was released at 20 years old from this hospital for "good behavior"; he was indeed exemplary and knew how to hide his sister when necessary.

He resumed his studies and his life, continuing his private shows reserved only for his sister. His establishment? The university, a place full of foreign and French students. A magnificent hunting ground.

Beware of his pretty smile; it might be the last thing you see. But if you're like him, you might be able to witness his wonderful show, and maybe he'll bring you on stage with him.