In a city of dark streets, where the lights flickered with weak hope and the shadows stretched with the slow pace of an illness, a boy walked alone, leaving behind a faint echo of steady footsteps. He was about ten years old, though his gaze seemed older, as if the darkness itself had stolen a part of his childhood. His face had an unsettling softness, with large, dark eyes, filled with a sinister gleam that reflected no innocence. His skin was pale, and a light breeze gently stirred his black hair, as dark as the night that surrounded him.
He was dressed formally, in a black suit that seemed tailor-made for him. The jacket, fitted and short, fell just at his waist, and the white shirt underneath had perfectly aligned buttons, as if it had just been pressed. A black vest, tightly fitting his body, gave him an even more distinguished air, with a black velvet bow tie meticulously tied at his neck, adding a touch of refined elegance. His dark, straight trousers fell perfectly over a pair of black patent leather shoes that reflected the light escaping through the cracks in the nearby windows. Everything about his appearance spoke of a kind of paradox: a boy whose appearance was more suited for a ceremony than for an adventure in the dark.
The night seemed to wait for his next move. With every step he took, the creaking of his shoes echoed, like a signal that the darkness itself recognized him. But, contrary to what one might imagine of a boy walking alone in a dangerous city, he seemed to fear nothing. Instead, his face remained in a calculated seriousness, and as he passed through deserted alleys, his soft whistle began to fill the air. It was a warm, persuasive melody, like a gentle call one might hear in a dream, but whose source was never seen.
As the boy advanced, the shadows seemed to draw closer to him, as if waiting for someone to fall into their trap. It didn't take long before someone was drawn to his presence. A man, with a lanky posture, wearing a tattered cloak and a face obscured by alcohol, approached the boy, dragging his feet, unaware of what had drawn him there. When he was close enough, the boy stopped whistling and looked him directly in the eyes, as if he were observing something far beyond the mere human figure before him.
"Hello, sir," the boy said in a soft, but unmistakably firm voice. "I know what you've done, and I know where you're headed. But if you want to stay alive, I suggest you walk away from me."
The man blinked, confused by the calmness in the boy's voice, and for a moment, he thought it was just another child. His gaze hardened, and the temptation to approach the boy overtook him. "What are you going to do? I'm no fool," the man grunted, dismissing the warnings with a malicious chuckle.
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But the boy didn't move an inch. With a gesture of his hand, as if it were an order, the atmosphere grew denser, as if something invisible surrounded him. A small whirl of wind began to lift the dirt from the street, and in the air, the boy's words resonated: "I warned you. If you keep bothering me, I'll take you to a place from which you won't be able to leave. You'll be trapped there forever."
The man, still under the influence of his own arrogance, decided to challenge the boy's threat. "What are you talking about, little one? Who do you think you are?"
The boy didn't answer immediately. Instead, he began to whistle again, this time a melody even more unsettling, as the air grew colder with each passing moment. The man stopped, feeling a chill run down his spine, but before he could react, the ground beneath his feet began to open up, dragging him toward a dark abyss.
"What... what are you doing to me?" the man screamed, but his words quickly vanished into nothingness. He could see nothing, only hear his own voice echoing in an empty space where light never reached. The walls seemed to move, stretching and contracting around him, and with every attempt to escape, he became more lost in the endless labyrinth. He screamed, desperate, but no one heard.
While all of this unfolded, the boy stood observing from a corner of the street. There was no emotion on his face, no joy, no sadness. He simply watched with an unshakable calm, as if everything were part of his routine. When the man finally faded into the darkness, the boy resumed his walk, continuing on his path as if nothing had happened.
But not all was for those who did evil. The boy kept walking, softly whistling, until he saw a small child, huddled in a dark corner. His eyes were filled with fear, and his body trembled. The boy watched him for a moment, his face now softened by an expression of understanding. There were no mockeries, no threats, only a gaze that understood the fear.
"Why are you here, little one?" he asked, his voice filled with a warmth that contrasted with the darkness surrounding him.
The child, trembling, looked up. "I'm scared. I want to go home, but I don't know how."
The formally dressed boy gently approached and, with a hand full of kindness, took a small candy from his pocket. He held it out to the frightened child and smiled, though his smile was melancholic.
"Here, little one. Good people deserve good things," he said as the child took the candy with a trembling hand.
The boy did not leave; instead, he stayed there, watching as the child began to savor the candy. "Don't be afraid, everything will be fine now."
And, as if it were all part of an enchantment, the boy began to whistle again, and with that, he vanished into the darkness, disappearing along with the echo of his melody. The breeze carried his figure as the city, now in complete silence, continued on its course. The echoes of the boy faded, leaving behind a place where darkness could never reach those who were pure of heart.
And so, the boy in formal attire and the unsettling melody continued his path through the empty streets, carrying with him the balance of darkness and light, offering justice to the ill-intentioned and comfort to the innocent, while the shadows embraced him once more.
