CHAPTER 5
Kawin Siriprasert’s Point of View.
Location: Military Training Compound, Northern Border...
The sharp, cracking sound of gunfire cut through the dry morning air, a rhythmic, powerful beat.
Kawin breathed out slowly, a controlled release of air, and pressed the trigger again.
Another perfect shot, a neat hole punched right through the printed skull on the paper target, fifty meters away.
The powerful kick of the gun barely moved his shoulder, showing his strength and training.
The quiet that followed was almost sacred, a moment of peace broken only by the distant sounds of the training range: shouts echoing, metal clinking, and the heavy, tired atmosphere of countless repetitions.
Pain spread through his back and arms, a deep ache from the endless drills and physical demands.
But the pain was good. It kept other thoughts away.
It stopped him from thinking too much about home. About Noi. His little brother.
It had been almost three weeks since his last phone call. His uncle had answered, his words slurred, offering another drunken promise: "He’s fine, Kawin. Still got that bunny he drags everywhere. He’s eating. Sleeping. Don’t worry so much."
But Kawin did worry, a deep, unsettling worry that wouldn’t go away.
Because the words had started to sound hollow, empty.
Something was wrong, like rotten fruit hidden beneath a fresh, shiny skin, a truth carefully concealed.
He had tried to push the feeling away—he had responsibilities here, and his final assignment was coming soon.
One last mission, then freedom. Then he could go home.
But the tight knot in his stomach had only grown tighter, a constant reminder of his fears.
“Siriprasert!” one of the other cadets called, jogging up to him with a canteen filled with water. “You got a perfect score again. Do you ever miss?”
Kawin didn’t smile. He took the water silently, nodding a brief thank you, his face serious.
“You alright, man?” the cadet asked, noticing his quietness.
“I’m fine,” Kawin replied, his voice flat.
“Still thinking about your little brother?”
Kawin’s jaw tightened, a muscle clenching, but he nodded.
“You’ll see him soon,” the cadet reassured him. “Just one more mission. Then you’re finished. They’ll give you the badge, the desk, the title—and you can go back. Be with him all the time.”
“Yeah,” Kawin said, but the word felt stuck in his throat, heavy and false. He wasn’t sure why it felt like a lie, but it did.
His teammate patted his shoulder and walked away, leaving Kawin alone once more.
Kawin remained still, staring at the target as if it could give him answers about his brother. He hadn’t heard Noi’s voice in months, and the silence was deafening.
_____
Meanwhile…
Location: The Thanawanich Estate
Inthorn Thanawanich sat in his study, one leg casually crossed over the other, a glass of deep crimson wine swirling slowly in his hand, looking like liquid blood.
He wore no jacket today—just a black shirt with the top buttons undone, showing the very faint outline of a mark carved just above his heart, a hidden symbol.
The room was enormous, grand and imposing.
It had high ceilings, dark carved teakwood walls, and heavy drapes that blocked out all daylight, keeping the room in a perpetual twilight.
It smelled of cigar smoke, old leather, and something slightly metallic—not quite blood, but disturbingly close, an unsettling undertone.
The windows were tinted dark to keep the sun’s rays from entering, guarding the secrets within.
Behind his large desk, a huge tiger skin rug lay stretched across the floor, its eyes seeming to watch.
His father had shot the tiger. He had skinned it.
It was the only thing the two men, father and son, had ever done together that truly connected them.
Dae Kittisak entered, silent as ever, a shadow moving through the grand room, his presence barely disturbing the air. He didn’t knock, knowing he was always welcome.
“The invitation’s arrived,” Dae said, holding up a black envelope sealed with bright red wax, an official summons. “Your father’s masquerade. Tomorrow night.”
Inthorn didn’t look at him at first. He just took a long, slow sip of wine, letting the rich taste linger on his tongue as if it were something sacred, savoring it.
“So the corpse still throws parties,” he murmured, his voice low and dismissive, filled with contempt for his father.
“This one’s special,” Dae continued, ignoring the insult, focusing on the facts. “All the major criminal groups will be there. Old rich families. Oil tycoons. Drug lords. Everyone wearing masks, hiding their true faces.”
“Of course,” Inthorn said, a cynical twist to his lips. “So they don’t have to look each other in the face when they lie and make their dark deals.”
He stood and stretched slowly, every movement smooth and carefully planned, like a predator. Even his breathing seemed controlled, as if he had trained his very lungs to obey him, to perform perfectly. He walked to the intercom on his desk and pressed a button.
“Bring me the maid.”
Moments later, Saowalak Kanchanawan entered, her posture perfect, her face showing nothing but respect. She bowed deeply.
“Prepare my Noi,” Inthorn commanded, his voice firm and clear.
The room suddenly became very still, the air growing heavy. Saowalak’s eyes flickered with something—a hint of hesitation, a brief moment of concern. But she was too well-trained, too disciplined, to let it show fully on her face.
“Master… the masquerade is dangerous. There will be men there who—”
“I didn’t ask what you thought,” Inthorn interrupted, his voice not rising but becoming sharper, colder. It was like a blade being slowly drawn across skin, a silent, chilling threat. “Just do it.”
She bowed again, lower this time, acknowledging his absolute power. “As you command.”
She turned and left, her heart pounding fast in her chest, the weight of the order pressing down on her.
Dae waited a moment before speaking, careful with his words. “You’re really taking the boy into that nest of vipers? Into that dangerous place?”
“He’s mine.” Inthorn’s voice was laced with possessiveness.
“That’s why it’s risky,” Dae pointed out, a rare warning in his tone. “If anyone realizes who he is—what he is—they’ll try to take him. To claim him for themselves.”
Inthorn smiled, a slow, predatory grin that held no kindness. “Then I’ll rip out their teeth and make them eat them.” The threat was cold, absolute, and utterly serious.
_____
Later that afternoon…
Location: The Estate Gardens
Noi sat in the soft grass, his legs crossed comfortably, the warm sunlight gentle on his shoulders. He was humming a soft, innocent tune, gently rocking his bunny plushie in his arms and making it hop along a bed of bright orange marigolds.
“Bunbun, no! You’ll squash the flowers!” He giggled, a small, genuine sound, pulling the plush rabbit back with exaggerated concern.
The garden was quiet, peaceful, except for the gentle buzz of dragonflies and the distant chirping of birds.
It was the only place in the entire vast estate that didn’t feel cursed or heavy.
It didn’t smell like metal. Or sweat. Or fear.
Only the sweet scent of flowers and fresh-cut grass, a small piece of his old world.
“Miss Saowalak!” he called cheerfully when he saw her approaching down the path.
“Bunbun did a backflip!”
The maid’s eyes softened, a rare, almost imperceptible shift in her usually stern expression, as she watched him.
He still smiled like that, even now. Despite being in a gilded cage, trapped by wealth and power.
Despite the locked doors and the whispering men and the cold hands that touched his face for too long.
Despite the terrifying nightmares that haunted his sleep.
“Dear,” she said softly, her voice filled with a gentle sadness that Noi couldn’t quite understand. “We have to get you ready.”
He blinked, confused. “For what?”
“There’s a party tomorrow,” she explained, trying to keep her voice even. “A masquerade. You’ll be going with Master Inthorn.”
His small fingers tightened around the plush rabbit, a sudden surge of fear. “A party?” The word sounded strange and scary in this context.
“You’ll wear something beautiful,” she continued, her voice filled with quiet instruction.
“Stay close to him. Don’t speak unless he asks you to.
And if someone touches you…” She hesitated, her words trailing off, unable to complete the dire warning.
Noi’s voice was small, innocent, filled with a child’s simple curiosity. “What happens if they do?”
“Then Master Inthorn will take care of it,” she replied, her tone grave. “Just… be brave, alright?”
He looked down at his bunny, seeking comfort, then nodded slowly. “Okay.”
_____
Night falls.
Location: Surveillance Room, Military Training Compound
Kawin sat alone at the back of the intelligence wing, his eyes intensely focused, shining with grim determination.
He was studying every aerial photo, every stolen blueprint of the Thanawanich estate.
He saw the thick walls. The positions of the guards.
The precise patrol routes. The tiny places where surveillance cameras couldn’t see, blind spots he could use.
The more he looked, the more it seemed like a fortress. A dark, imposing castle surrounded by a dangerous jungle and the constant threat of death.
But his eyes kept drifting to the central courtyard. The garden. A tiny patch of green in a vast sea of steel and violence, a symbol of hope.
“I’m coming, Noi,” he whispered, his voice raw with determination, a fierce promise. “Just a little longer. I’m coming for you.”
He didn’t know his brother was already being dressed for the wolves, unknowingly walking into the heart of the danger.
_____
Meanwhile… Next day:
Location: The Dressing Room, East Wing of the Estate
Noi stood patiently on a velvet stool, his small arms raised as Saowalak carefully fastened the intricate clasps on a black and silver outfit—it was hand-stitched, shimmering beautifully under the soft light of the chandelier, looking almost magical.
The mask came last. It was made of pure porcelain, perfectly white and smooth to the touch. It was shaped delicately like a rabbit’s face, with long, elegant ears that curled gracefully like smoke, a perfect match for his beloved plushie.
“It’s beautiful,” he whispered, gently touching the cool, smooth edges of the mask with his fingertips.
“So are you,” she replied, her voice cracking with emotion, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
He tilted his head, noticing her distress, her unusual sadness. “Miss Saowalak… am I… am I just a toy to him?”
She didn’t answer directly. Instead, she just leaned down and kissed his forehead, a silent, tender gesture of comfort and sorrow.
“Remember the garden,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper, a desperate plea. “If it gets too loud. If it gets too scary. Just remember the garden, remember its peace.”
_____
Elsewhere…
Location: Inthorn’s Private Quarters
Inthorn stood before a large mirror, calmly adjusting his cuffs, his movements precise and unhurried. A black silk mask lay on a nearby table—it was shaped like a demon’s face, with gleaming gilded tusks that looked sharp and dangerous. He didn’t put it on yet.
Instead, he walked to a locked drawer in the corner of the opulent room.
He opened it with a small key and carefully took out a small silver locket.
Inside, there was a photo of Noi, peacefully asleep in bed, holding his bunny, an innocent image captured in the heart of darkness.
He stared at the photo for a long, silent moment, a complex mixture of emotions in his dark eyes—possession, something akin to fascination, and a chilling intent.
“One more night,” he whispered, his voice almost inaudible, a promise made to himself and the boy in the photo. “Then I make the world see… you’re mine.”
He shut the drawer with a firm click, locking the locket away once more.
And the lights in the room flickered, as the coming night, dark and full of secrets, prepared to swallow them all whole.