Black Phoenix Heir

Chapter 101: Chapter 101 — Victor’s Past

Chapter 101 — Victor’s Past

The vision disappeared.

Victor’s mind seemed to grow foggy as he tried to process what he had just witnessed. He hadn’t had much time to think about it, but the scene that had unfolded before him was unmistakably connected to the female Shadow Fox.

He didn’t know how he knew.

He didn’t even know if the girl in the vision truly was her.

Yet something deep within him said that she was.

It wasn’t a thought.

It was a feeling.

Something buried within his soul seemed to recognize her.

As Victor stood there in the darkness, a strange sensation suddenly washed over him.

Pity.

He could feel the pain she had experienced.

The fear.

The helplessness.

And beneath it all, the anger that had begun to take root inside her.

It wasn’t simply something he understood intellectually.

He could feel it.

Her emotions seemed to linger inside him, almost as though they had become embedded within his bones.

For a brief moment, Victor felt as though he understood the Shadow Fox a little better.

He understood why she was so hostile.

Why she distrusted humans.

Why she carried so much anger beneath her calm exterior.

Victor remained silent as those feelings settled within him.

But before he could think any further, the darkness around him began to shift.

Everything became blurry.

The forest disappeared.

The emotions faded.

Victor tried to hold onto what he had just experienced, but the memory was already slipping away from him.

Then something else appeared.

Another place.

Another time.

Something felt different this time.

More familiar.

Far more familiar.

Victor’s thoughts became increasingly unclear as the scene slowly formed around him.

He didn’t know what he was seeing.

He didn’t know where he was.

He didn’t even realize that he was dreaming.

All he knew was that something was pulling him deeper.

Deeper into a past he had long since forgotten.

And as the darkness completely faded away, Victor opened his eyes.

The afternoon sun hung low over the neighborhood, casting long shadows across the sidewalk.

A ten-year-old boy walked home from school with a backpack hanging from his shoulders.

His black hair was slightly messy from the day’s activities, and his small footsteps carried him along the familiar street toward the house he had called home for as long as he could remember.

He reached the front door.

He turned the handle.

The door opened.

The house was quiet.

The boy stepped inside and dropped his backpack beside the entrance.

He slipped off his shoes and began walking toward his room.

Then he heard shouting.

"You’re planning on leaving me?"

The boy stopped.

His father’s voice.

Another voice answered from the kitchen.

His mother’s.

The boy stood still for a moment.

His parents argued sometimes.

It wasn’t unusual.

Usually, he simply went to his room and waited for it to end.

But his father’s voice sounded different this time.

"You’re not allowed to leave me!"

The boy slowly walked toward the kitchen.

His mother stood near the counter.

His father stood several feet away from her.

"You think you can just leave?"

His voice grew louder.

His mother said something.

The boy couldn’t make out the words.

His father’s expression twisted with anger.

Then his hand moved.

Smack.

His mother’s head snapped to the side.

Blood flew from the corner of her mouth.

The boy froze.

"Dad!"

His father turned toward him.

His eyes were cold.

There was no remorse.

No hesitation.

Only disgust.

"Shut up, boy."

The boy stared at him.

His father turned back toward his mother.

Then he walked toward one of the kitchen drawers.

He pulled it open.

His hand disappeared inside.

The boy’s eyes widened.

A knife appeared in his father’s hand.

"Dad..."

His voice trembled.

His mother backed away.

"Please stop."

His father continued toward her.

"Dad, please!"

The boy’s voice cracked.

His father didn’t listen.

The blade plunged into his mother.

She collapsed.

"Mom!"

The boy screamed.

He rushed forward.

His father pulled the knife free and looked down at her.

Then he spoke quietly.

"You’re not going anywhere now."

The boy stopped.

His entire body trembled.

His father slowly turned toward him.

"Come here, boy."

The boy stepped backward.

"We have to join your mother."

The boy turned and ran.

His father chased after him.

The boy sprinted through the house, his footsteps pounding against the floor.

He turned around a corner.

The knife swung toward him.

He ducked.

The blade sliced across his arm.

Pain shot through him.

He screamed and stumbled forward.

Blood ran down his arm.

His father continued after him.

Then his foot caught against the floor.

He stumbled and crashed down.

The knife slipped from his hand.

It landed several feet away.

The boy stopped.

He looked at the knife.

Then at his father.

His breathing was frantic.

Slowly, he reached down and picked it up.

His hands shook violently.

"Stay back."

His father looked at him.

For a moment, surprise appeared in his eyes.

Then he laughed.

"You won’t use that knife, boy."

He stood and walked toward him.

"Stay back!"

The boy continued backing away.

His father suddenly lunged forward.

Both hands wrapped around the boy’s throat.

He lifted him off the ground.

The boy kicked desperately.

His hands clawed at his father’s arms.

He couldn’t breathe.

His vision began to blur.

His movements became weaker.

His father’s grip tightened.

The boy’s hand remained wrapped around the knife.

He couldn’t think.

He couldn’t breathe.

He was terrified.

Then his arm moved.

The knife struck his father’s neck.

His father’s grip immediately released.

The boy dropped to the floor.

He collapsed onto his hands and knees, coughing violently as he desperately dragged air into his lungs.

His father staggered backward.

One hand moved toward his neck.

Then he fell.

The boy didn’t look at him.

He turned and crawled toward the kitchen.

"Mom..."

He reached his mother.

His arms wrapped around her.

"Mom?"

She didn’t move.

He shook her gently.

"Mom, wake up."

Nothing.

His grip tightened.

"Please."

Nothing.

The boy buried his face against her.

He remained there.

Minutes passed.

Then more.

He didn’t move.

The house was completely silent.

Nearly an hour later, sirens could be heard approaching outside.

The front door opened.

Several police officers entered.

They stopped when they saw the scene.

One officer slowly approached the boy.

"Son?"

The boy didn’t respond.

He continued holding his mother.

The officer crouched beside him.

"Can you hear me?"

Nothing.

The officer glanced toward the others before looking back at the boy.

"We need to get you out of here."

The boy tightened his arms around his mother.

"No."

His voice was barely audible.

The officers carefully began pulling him away.

The boy resisted.

His hands clung desperately to his mother’s clothes.

"Mom..."

They finally managed to separate him.

The boy reached toward her as the officers carried him away.

"Mom!"

His voice echoed through the house.

Then everything disappeared.

Darkness returned.

Silence filled the void.

A moment later, Victor opened his eyes.

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