Crash-landed On An Island With Nine Beauties



Two days later, Damien, fully recovered and agile, was working down the street of the neighborhood where he used to live in. The neighbourhood where he used to stay with his grandpa. Where the room stolen by the uncle was situated.

"I have tried to speak of kindness enough, but it seems like a foreign language to y'all."

He was standing at the front of the half-standing gate of the compound.

"It's all on you, Vegas for not schooling your children right."

He sent a kick into the gate and it went flying into the air. Again.

"Who the hell was that?"

"Who the hell did that?"

Two women came out yelling. Damien didn't for once wait to hear them out. He stomped towards the room. His former room.

In his hand was a jerrycan.

"Are you deaf? I'm talking you!!!"

"It's the bad luck bringer... what does he think he is doing?"

He got to the front of the room and halted. His face had folded into a terrible frown. His eyes lacked pity and piety. He looked like he had been dining with the devil all his life.

One of the women got to him and grabbed his cloth,

"Are you deaf? Do you want to ---"

Damien shoved his hand away, hitting the woman across her face as she went crashing down.

"You! How dare you..."

The other woman yelled on top of her voice. Damien walked towards the woman who moved back as he moved closer,

"Come close and hit me. I'll offer myself up..."

The woman couldn't even say a word. Not any move. The death stare in Damien's eyes sent chills down her spines. This wasn't the Damien they used to know.

"What's that noise? What's that noise?"

Damien's uncle walked out of the room. As soon as he saw Damien,

"This bastard, what did I tell you about coming back to his place?"

As the man spoke, he walked closer to Damien.

"I think I should teach you some manners. Why are you making a scene here? I thought you were dead. You should be... like your pathetic grandpa.' "What did you just call grandpa?"

Damien's eyes were growing creepy but his uncle found it quite funny.

His uncle walked got to Damien, raising his hand to hit him like usual in the face,

"What's the deal with this retard... stop glaring at me you dumb ---"

Damien grabbed his hand and twisted it, showing no mercy until he could hear the wrist crack and a bone cut through the flesh.

"Ah... you bastard. Let go of ---"

Damien throttled the man and took him to the nearest wall. He pressed the man's back to the wall.

"I say let go of me now when I'm being nice to you... how disrespectful."

Damien knew too well to leave a little space so that the loquacious uncle could speak.

"Let go of me right now..."

The man kicked him in the balls but Damien didn't blink an eye let alone flinch or groan.

Damien sent a backhand slap across the man's face to the right,

"Never..."

To the left,

"Ever..."

Another side...

"In your..."

This time it was a heavy one which plucked two teeth from the old man's jaw.

"Pathetic and addicted life, speak disrespectfully of grandpa..."

He landed two slaps in the man's face again, watching as mucus spurted from his nose as another teeth dropped;

Damien's hands were now stronger. No matter how little he hit, it would make a great impact on the recipient. Even a finger flick could make a mound of boil in the forehead.

He dropped his uncle.

"Go pick that."

He pointed at the jerrycan.

"How dare you say that to ---"

Damien made to slap him again and the man flinched, covering his face in fear.

"Please... please... I'll do it."

"You old fart, so you can beg?"

Damien scoffed and kicked the man in the face.

"What are you still doing! Stand up right now!!!"

The man slowly rose on his feet. His face was red and tears were beginning to swell. But Damien didn't care. Gone were the days when he was soft. "Being soft is suicidal."

No one told him so. He just made that up.

Damien watched his uncle hurry to pick up the jerrycan.

"Start pouring it from here into my room!"

"Huh?"

The man's eyes widened in shock.

"Do you want to die?"

Damien decided to use the man's words. His uncle dropped on his knees, crawling to and grappling at Damien's feet.

"Please don't do this. There will be nowhere to sleep for me. I don't want to end up in the street. I don't have any money on me."

Damien scoffed at how pathetic the man seemed.

"You old fart! Did you think of this when you threw my things out? I was gone for two months and you didn't even bat an eye when you saw me... and you expect me to show you mercy?"

"Please my son... I was about to cum at that moment. I couldn't just pull out... you know ---"

Damien cackled. He found it very funny that the man could say that at such a moment.

"And your father? Did you bury him in a mound of earth, in a garbage place, because you were about to cum also?"

Damien kicked the man in the face again and watched him tumble.

"Now get those old legs of yours up and start pouring."

Damien's face grew darker and darker... tougher and tougher... meaner and meaner...

He looked away from his uncle who had picked up the jerrycan with trembling hands.

There was a cluster of couple neighbors standing aloof and watching what was happening. He turned to them.

"Spread the words. Spread it to

everyone you have ears and eyes. To

the blind and deaf too. That the bad luck chil has returned. Damien has

returned. And would make life a

living hell for those who have

wronged him... even in the slightest."

The people scattered away in fear. Turning back to his uncle, the man was walking out of the room. He seemed to had finished pouring.

"

Damien reached to his pocket and brought out a lighter. He tossed it at his uncle who was too slow to catch it.

"Now light up the room."

The man dropped on his knees,

"Please Damien... please... do whatever you will... but let me take the documents... without it I won't be able to claim my father's assets... that's the ---

"You greedy bastard!!! Light it up right now or I'll burn you with the room and house..."

"No, don't... I will..."

The man turned to the room and tossed the lighter into the room.

"What the hell did you just do?"

Damien exclaimed. The man was confused,

"What do you mean, I did what you told me to..."

"My lighter!!! How could you throw my precious lighter into fire. Go pick it right now."

"Ahh... Damien... please... the fire will burn me. I'll borrow money and buy you another lighter..."

"No, I want it... I want that one... go in right now or I'll push you in and lock the door on you..."

He watched as the man rushed into fire in tears.

Damien felt no pity... not even a little one. He remembered when he lost the toothpick of his uncle at the

pond one day... the memories ometFrom NôvelDrama.Org.

owned

how he swam and almost in the water searching for a toothpick got him madder.

Yea... that was how cruel the man was to him. So no matter what he did to his uncle, it was nothing compared to things he had experienced. He had

experience hell... worst than the toothpick scene.

"Listen y'all... if I could do this to my own uncle... imagine what will happen to anyone who had been terrible to me...'

"

His uncle's cloth was on fire when the man ran out of the room with his lighter.

"Give it here."

He snatched the lighter. The man struggled to get the burning cloth off his body.

"Stand by and watch... when the

room is done burning, go fetch water and quench the fire. Else when

the police gets here, you'll not only be charged for arson but also for

lunacy! Prison shouldn't be a shock to you... at least you'll have a home."

He turned away coldly from his uncle and walked away. People ran out of the way for him.

He flipped the system window out,

"Bring up the location of Steven."