Chapter 1

One kills a man, one is an assassin; one kills millions; one is a conqueror, one kills everybody, one is a god- Jean Rostand

Nothing seemed more important at that very moment, except to please his father and get away as soon as possible from the feeling of guilt. His father had told him that every first kill was the most important one and the most important one could lead him to great heights. All his guilt would vanish away and the awe of him would spread to those around. 

Young Philip walked slowly under the rain, his feet stamping the ground as if leading him to his uttermost doom. The surrounding darkness seemed to have swallowed him up.

His heart sounded like the loud repeat of drums in his ears. His clothes dripped with water. The word, kill seemed like a burden to him but the repeat of his father’s words in his ears kept him going. 

“The awe of you will spread to everyone around,” were his father’s words.

The young boy stood at the door of a house, a solidly built-in bungalow, and he knocked slowly but repeatedly. He prayed that no one would answer. At the same time, he wished someone would let him in and take care of him. There were low voices inside and the door was pushed open. A man stood in shock, his expression coarse and suspicious at the same time. As he looked at the young boy from head to toe, “Any problem boy?” he asked, with a bold, harsh voice.

Anger rose on the inside of Philip, he expected the man to be kind to him and take him in, but he didn’t do that. As a young boy, he had been taught by his father that people were wicked. Nobody was worthy of trusting and nobody was good enough to stay alive.