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The case of one Moon Xain, youth lost in the depths of countryside quaintness and simple delights. A 27-year-old spending days in the small suburbs of Muhan as COO of MEC, an upstanding citizen like many others in town. An unremarkable little story that takes odd turns when you take a second look. Because, in Muhan, nothing as it seems. In Muhan, you must trust no one.

Moon Xain is one with the vertigo.

CONTENT WARNING.

Abuse, death, murder, graphic violence.

THE STORY.

i. 1997 The birth of his sisters marked the greatest tragedy of Xain’s life. Those “miracles” had killed his mother during birth and the seven year old hated them for it. Sitting outside on the squeaky brown bench, the little boy kicked his feet. There was a hush he couldn’t describe. Mixed feelings of sorrow and joy. An uncertainty that tainted the hollow air in it’s icy brilliance. He remained there for hours as paperwork was done. There were no balloons for his sisters birth, no celebration. Their birthday marked her death, and no one knew how to handle it.

How would he be safe now? Who would lovingly call him Saejoon and protect him from his father’s anger?

Xain glanced up and saw the Devil walking towards him with the baby girls in his arms and he cowered in fear as his father got closer and closer until his tight grip was on his arm, yanking him to his feet, and rushing him out the doors into the crisp winter air. His father wouldn’t hurt him yet. His father would do that in three months when he lost all sense of patience and needed to unleash his pent up anger. Xain would become his literal punching bag while Xana and Xaya would become pretentious princesses.

ii. 2002 Muhan. He had never heard of it before and he wasn’t interested, but there was a legacy buried there that united the twelve year old to the land of anomalies. His grandfather had retired there in a large mansion, surrounded by detailed landscaping and mounted on precision. Xain loved it. To him, that was what art was. Engraved with pain and years of hard work. He hoped one day he’d get it. He didn’t know his name was written on the will, and that under it, this beautiful place was signed to him from the beginning. The unknown heir to MEC, was already a heir to the legacy.

Xain has two months away from torture. Away from his father’s whips, his hard, calloused hand, his tough shoes, and harsh grip. For now, he could focus on the green grass, the flowers, the breeze and pretend he was normal when he was already a psychopath in training. He loved the way the flowers wilted more than he loved their blossom. Enjoyed trapping bugs under boxes and watching them suffocate. Such a small thing people would laugh at, which would slowly grow to become his obsession.

He heard a sound and the young teenager looked up, intrigued by what he saw. A young child holding his grandfather’s hand, led inside the living room, eyes just as hazel, as bright. Xain has seen him, and his dark gaze remains on the child, a spark of joy igniting when he notices the fidgeting and the uncomfortable expression strewn on their face. He suddenly cares to know more, and Xain digs, for days his fists are tight, and gaze is sharp, and the act of disinterest is strong.

On the twelfth day the reward pays off, and Xain discovered the young child to be his relative while overhearing a discussion not meant for his ears to catch.

The secret haunts him even when he leaves Muhan, and the questions rise.

Something mystic bubbles in his mind.

A seed plants.

iii. 2007 Xain had never feared death. He played life recklessly. Pain didn’t quite feel like pain, and fear was an act he held for the sake of his father. Now that he was dead, a small smile graced the boys gentle features. The seventeen year old held a bouncy ball in his hand as the menacing smile grew. He bounced it against the wall and floor with a full blown grin, and he couldn’t help, but laugh. Now in a brand new house much bigger than the last, Xain was on top of the world. The devil was sent back to hell, the demonic little girls were broken hearted in the room beside his and Xain laughed loudly until he was sure they could hear it.

He had faked tears the entire time he buried his father, but no one noticed the glint of delight that burned in his irises, the power that surged through him suddenly. They didn’t know it then, like the young man did, but everyone that day was in the presence of a God. Xain wanted to laugh so loud then, at them, at the corpse, at everything going one, and he did that when he returned hours later with the midnight disguising the villainy shrouded in every shadow on his face. “Burn in hell, you fucker,” he cursed, grinning.

This time, he had won.

iv. 2010 She had killed her. She had actually killed the one person Xain believed she could possibly love. He didn’t even want to look at Xana, yet he did when he walked into the hospital, his uncle towering beside the young girl who looked… Bored. When she met his gaze Xain couldn’t help but release the sinister smirk onto his face. He had always told the girls that they were born killers, but it seemed one of them was just more of a murderous being than the other. He had to admit, he was disappointed that it was Xaya who fell dead and not Xana. The former had always been more bearable.

The 13 year old in from of him had just killed her own sister in a martial arts training class. She had hit her twins so hard that she had knocked the life out of her and Xain slowly shook his head, surprisingly not surprised. Demons were meant to kill.

But wasn’t she lucky to have an uncle so dear. He covered it up the second the instructor informed him, and the news would now report how a horrible fall killed the Moon families dearest twin. Xain made sure that he had every T.V in the house changed to that channel for when they got back. The air felt shallow and warn, and Xain’s nerves sizzled in the desire to speak, but his mouth remained shut the entire time their uncle was around. The one who lowly whispered orders and advice to Xana. The behaviour she should inhibit, the attitude she should uphold, the broken heart she should fake and the pain she should pretend.

At the funeral he finally spoke to her, wanting to laugh at the tears running down Xana’s face. It was all fake, he knew that, but he still had to hold his act of pain as he buried another Moon member into the ground. A demon next to the devil, such a perfect ending.

Xain wrapped his arms around his sister, seeing the flash of cameras from the distance, and he could feel her stick to him, the act completely careful. He didn’t miss the way her nails dug into his back, wishing to break the material and sink into his skin, tear it apart. “Congratulations,” he muttered, “At least you get her inheritance.“

Though, he was the one who was left slightly stunned when she shifted her face and laughed lightly, “And what did you get? Nothing.“

Xain’s gaze hardened, and he tightened the hug until he was sure her ribs ached. “You’re a murderous bitch,” he muttered to her, eyes cold, and words even colder.

“And you’re a psychopath,” she wheezed before pulling away, brushing the tears that continued to fall down her cheeks.

Her tears weren’t fake, and he’d never know that.

That year marked another chilling memory: the birth of XERO.

v. 2015 Another successful year. Xain’s private company, XERO, was only growing stronger and stronger, and truthfully, it was thanks to Muhan. His shift here was sudden, dramatic, and certain. His grandfathers passing had landed him a large mansion to himself, and he now had warehouses scattered across the conservative community, employees trucking shipments out every week. It was the perfectly, magical place to grow, kill, and strive.

Xain inhaled the crisp air, mind reaching a different heaven.

He smiled at the people before him, the gathering of the bored, the interested, and the desperately hungry. Xain’s eyes scanned over the crowd who held their wine glasses, dressed in the most luxurious clothes they could afford, piling in from different regions of the world. His smile did not falter, and he raised his glass to a toast, “To Muhan,” he said aloud, his perfect features chilling and defined in a determination unwavering. “To Moon Energy Corporation, and zero mistakes.” He knew they could all feel it. The presence of real authority, the presence of a king— of a God, among Gods.

There was a secret which explained why he was in Muhan, it was simple, and convenient. He was here to take out the only threat, the last domino standing between him and the title of CEO. His smile did not falter as he watched his guests, eyes narrowing into a deathly mischievousness as he joined them, and mingled with them, gaze constantly flickering towards a special someone.

His cousin stood in the lounging area, unaware of the predator that inched closer day by day.

It was time to dominate.

THE TWIST.

“There’s something in the water, love,” he murmured, sitting by the river.

The girl whimpered behind him, tears streaking her cheeks, and Xain turned around, gun twirling between his fingers as he stared her. Cloth covering her eyes, gagging her mouth, bounding her wrists, and joining her ankles. She couldn’t see him or the beauty that she was a mere guest of, but he knew she could feel it. The wind, the grass beneath her, the buzzing insects that hummed in the sweet air. Death for her came in a blanket of spring, a touch of summer, and the faintest whisper of winter with the call of autumn too faint to decipher.

“My grandfather hid a secret from me, not noticing the curiosity that burned within my twelve year old self. He must’ve assumed that I wouldn’t care, and in all honesty, I did not think too much of it,” and Xain took a breath. “Then I became COO and suddenly it mattered very much to me, that young child united to me by blood. My love, do you understand what happens if the ones who despise me so much learn of that pathetic beings existence?” he questioned.

She shook her head, shoulders shaking. That lilac dress crisp and clean fitted her like the angel she thought she was, yet Xain saw it. The devil that lurked beneath, the desire that brought her to her decisions, and the deception she had delicately pieced together as if she could ever outsmart a man that had the entire world fooled. To be disloyal, and betray Xain like this only meant for one answer, and it was a calling that came often to those who dared to test the flames he was founded on.

“You are a fool, my dear. A failure who could not do the easiest job correct, and dared to stand frightened in the face of a reaper when the real killer, the real threat, was the one that had funded you with the smallest responsibility.” Xain closed his eyes, the edges of his fingers meeting with the cold water, the current moving past his skin in urgency.

He thought back to it, what he had heard from his grandfather at his tender age. The secrets that endangered Xain, and the ties the young man had believed to have been non-existent. All the strings of his problems and stresses leading back to a singular figure that continued to breath and exist on the same Earth. There’s death in the water.

Xain’s eyes snapped open, and he pulled his hand away. She only needed to tell him the slightest details. It had been a very quick request, and one she betrayed the very second she had been set free.

He hated being disappointed.

“Would you like to know why I have brought you here?” he questioned, and he did not wait for an answer as he dragged her to the edge of the river, pushing her face close to the current. “To drown you in the same water you thrived upon,” then he plunged her under the water.

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