THE SERIAL KILLER MIND - Chapter 10: When the Dark First Spoke

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It started with the silence after the slap.

Vinci was seven.

The house smelled like gin and rust. His father’s belt dangled from the chair. And his mother? She was somewhere outside, screaming again.

But Vinci didn’t cry anymore.

Not after the third time. Not after the cracked lip or the broken wrist.

He sat in the corner of their one-bedroom flat, hugging a torn stuffed bear, when the voice came.

“You don’t have to take it.”

He looked up.

There was no one there.

But the voice felt real.

“He hits you. You bleed. You stay quiet. Why?”

Vinci whispered, “Because he’s my dad.”

“He’s your captor.”

“No…”

“He made you small. I’ll make you big.”

That night, Vinci walked to his father’s bed. Stared at the old man’s sleeping form.

His little hand reached for the belt on the floor.

He didn’t hit him.

But he could have.

And in that moment, Eon was born—not from hatred.

But from the need to feel powerful again.

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