I was born a devil. At three, I killed animals for fun. At seven, I killed a person. Terrified, my family locked me away in a psychiatric hospital. Twelve years later, my gentle, kind-hearted older brother committed suicide. My mother checked me out of the asylum. The moment we stepped outside, her eyes burning with hatred, she said: "If you really are a devil, kill everyone who tormented your brother." My family has a legend: if twins are born, one is destined to be a devil. In the old days, twins were burned alive together. Luckily, times have changed, so my brother and I were allowed to live. Before we turned three, everything was peaceful. We were cute kids, loved by everyone. But the whispers never stopped. One must be a devil. It was written into the family genealogy, a curse hanging over our heads. Our clan hasn't seen twins in over three hundred years. When I was three, a goose tried to peck me. I grabbed its neck with both hands and bit its throat out. Blood sprayed everywhere. I dragged the dead goose home, presenting it to my mom like a trophy, saying we should eat it for dinner. My parents were horrified. The story spread through the village like wildfire. Demon child. But since the goose attacked first, and other kids saw it, my parents just thought I was fierce. Not a devil. The village elders agreed. Killing a child over a goose was illegal, after all. They just told my parents to watch me closely. But from then on, any animal that attacked me died a brutal death. My parents paid a lot in damages. When I was five, a group of kids, led by the village bully, cornered me, calling me a monster. I nearly beat the bully to death. If adults hadn't intervened, he wouldn't have made it. After that, I was locked in my room. Only my brother, Jack, would come to play. When he started school, he’d tell me stories and teach me to read. He said once I could read, I could enjoy novels. He shared everything with me. He was my only friend. When I was seven, I heard Mom crying in the yard. I peeked out the window. Jack had been beaten badly by the bully. The bully's family was powerful; the village chief only gave them a slap on the wrist. But Jack's right arm was broken. The tendons were severed. The doctor said even if it healed, his hand would never be the same. He’d struggle to hold anything heavier than a bowl. That night, I pried open my window. When my parents found me, I was at the bully's house. The bully was dead. It wasn't pretty. I was beaten bloody by his parents, but I was alive. When I saw my parents, I smiled. "I avenged Jack." But they didn't smile. The bully's family didn't smile. Seeing a blood-soaked seven-year-old grinning sent chills down everyone's spine. The police came. Because of my age and what I did, I was sent to a psychiatric hospital. 2 For twelve years, Jack visited me every weekend. He brought snacks, taught me more words, and brought me storybooks. But then, a month and a half passed. Jack didn't come. Mom came instead. I barely recognized her. She looked like a ghost—haggard, hair messy, eyes burning with hate. She had already processed my release. Maybe my twelve years of good behavior helped. She didn't say a word the whole way home. I just watched. When we entered the yard, the smell of herbal medicine hit me. "Your father is paralyzed," Mom finally said. "Someone broke his spine. He's been bedridden for two years." "Dad? The man who wouldn't hurt a fly?" I laughed. Mom clenched her fists and walked into Jack's room without answering. Inside, a white sheet covered a body on the bed. My smile froze. I walked over and lifted the sheet. Jack’s face was blue, peaceful in death. I pulled the sheet back further. Bruises on his neck—strangulation marks. Claw marks. I unbuttoned his shirt. His body was a map of scars. Some old, some new, some festering. Mom stood beside me, dry-eyed. She had no tears left. "If you really are a devil," she hissed, "kill everyone who hurt your father and brother. If you hate me for sending you away, kill me too." "Who?" I asked calmly. Mom told me everything through gritted teeth. Because I killed the bully when I was seven, his family held a grudge. They bullied my family relentlessly, rallying the village against us. My dad and Jack were too gentle. They took it. It started with beatings. Tearing Jack's clothes off, making him walk home naked. Then it got worse. Cigarette burns. Carving humiliating words into his skin with knives. When the wounds healed, they carved them again. The village chief and elders told us to keep the peace. Dad finally snapped and fought back. But the bully's family was ruthless and outnumbered him. They broke his spine. The elders made the bully's family pay a small fine. No police involved. They threatened to kick us out of the village if we went to the cops. Because we had twins. Because I was a devil. After Dad was paralyzed, the bullying got worse. Jack couldn't take it anymore. He drank pesticide. I grinned. "So, I can do whatever I want?" "Yes. I want them dead. All of them." Mom screamed the last words, eyes wild. I looked at Jack's body and smiled. "Jack, from today on, I am you. This is going to be fun." 3 Mom kept Jack's body in the freezer. I put on his clothes and stepped into his life. Jack had eleven cigarette burns. I took Dad's cigarettes and burned myself in the exact same spots. I replicated every scar, expressionless. Mom watched. For the first time, she smiled at me. Before, she would have called me a monster. But now, her eyes held relief. Even joy. After the wounds scabbed over, I cut my hair like Jack's. In his clothes, even Mom couldn't tell us apart. "Jack," she whispered, hugging me. "Mom, I'm going to the workshop," I said, mimicking Jack's gentle tone. She nodded, staring at me in a daze. I arrived at the carpentry workshop. The scent of sawdust was comforting. The Master was over sixty, the best carpenter in the village. He was one of the few who treated us like normal people. He looked surprised. He took off his glasses and studied me. "Jack, are you okay? I heard Chen the First gave you trouble again. Sigh. It's a sin." "I can't do much besides woodwork, Jack. If you're hurting, rest. I won't dock your pay." I shook my head and smiled. "Master, I'm fine. I want to learn." I took the plane he offered and started working the wood, moving just like Jack did. Soon, another apprentice, Yang, arrived. He looked shocked to see me. He patted my shoulder. "Jack, heard Chen the First came for you again? That guy is too much. Someone needs to teach him a lesson." I smiled faintly. "It's in the past. Let's work." Yang wanted to say more but stayed quiet. Thirty minutes later, he made an excuse and left. The village's best land was a resort, the village's cash cow. Chen the First and his cronies ran it. It was his family's business. Yang snuck in like a thief. "Boss Chen, Jack is back. He looks fine." "Hah, Jack's tough. Good. Means we can keep playing," Chen the First laughed. "How about branding? Let's brand the resort logo on his face. A walking billboard!" someone suggested. "Great idea! Get the blacksmith on it!" Chen the First roared with laughter. He slapped Yang on the back. "Good job. Next time we go drinking, you're coming. Now go watch Jack." "Thanks, Boss Chen!" Yang walked back happily, dreaming of booze and women. "Yang, you look happy." My voice made him jump. He saw me leaning against a tree, whittling a branch with a carving knife. Yang turned pale. "Jack... w-why are you here?" I smiled. "I smell blood. Your blood smells delicious." Yang's eyes bulged. He backed away. "W-what do you want?" 4 He turned to run. I threw the knife. It struck his calf, slicing through flesh. He face-planted into the dirt. "Ah! Jack, are you crazy?! Do you know who I work for? I'm Chen the First's man! You dare—AH!" I interrupted him by driving a sharpened wooden stake through his hand, hammering it into the ground with a rock. "Waaah... Jack! Brother Jack, I'm wrong! I shouldn't have snitched! I won't do it again! Please let me go! AH!" Every struggle tore his hand. He had to relax to lessen the pain. But soon, his other hand was nailed down too. He screamed and begged as I crucified him on the ground, spread-eagled. Every strike of the rock made him convulse. When I was done, I picked up a final, foot-long wooden stake and walked to his head. Pain had kept him conscious. He shook his head in terror. "No, no... Grandpa, Ancestor, please! I won't do it again! Don't kill me!" I squatted by his head. "Jack had to die for me to come out." "His kindness was the only thing suppressing my evil. Thank you for releasing me." Yang stared at me, trembling. "You... you're... the devil!" I smiled. I positioned the stake over his mouth. A half-scream, then the dull thud of rock on wood. Thirty seconds later, silence. A few crows gathered, eyeing the meal pinned to the ground. I returned to the workshop and kept working. The Master asked nothing. It was my first time doing woodwork, but the Master taught me patiently. Around noon, the village erupted in noise. Cries and shouts. A man ran in. "Master Chen! Your apprentice is dead! On the west mountain path! Come look!" The Master glanced at me, put down his tools, and waved. "Let's go." A crowd had gathered on the mountain path. The stakes had been pulled out. Yang's body was covered with a straw mat. His mother was wailing beside it. Only men were allowed; women were kept away to avoid the shock. Even the men looked green. Everyone speculated, but no one suspected me. Jack was the village punching bag. He never fought back. The elders ordered an investigation and told the Master to make a coffin. We worked through the night. We delivered the coffin to Yang's house on a cart. As soon as we unloaded it, Yang's mother slapped the Master. "You old useless thing! I sent my son to learn from you! Why didn't you watch him?! Why didn't you die instead?!" Then Yang's sister kicked me. She pointed a finger in my face. "You devil spawn! When your mom birthed twins, we should have burned you both!" "And your mom... probably slept with a demon! Your whole family deserves to die! Why did my brother have to die?!" I looked at the footprint on my stomach and smiled at her. "How do you want to die?" 5 Her face twisted in fear. She raised her hand to hit me again but hesitated. She stomped back and screamed, "Dad! Jack molested me!" Yang's father stormed over, eyes blazing. "You little shit! Touching my daughter?!" He slapped me hard across the face. I didn't dodge. The sound echoed in the quiet night. The Master tried to speak, but Yang's mother shoved him. "What? You old fool! Siding with the devil spawn? You killed my son, now you want to ruin us all?!" The Master lowered his head. Yang's family vented all their grief and rage on me. Now I knew how they treated Jack. I took it all silently. Finally, they got tired. "Leave the kid here to work," Yang's father barked. "Damn kid is creepy. Doesn't make a sound." The Master looked at me with a complicated expression. "Thank you," he whispered, then left with the empty cart. "Demon spawn! Get over here! Put my son in the coffin!" Yang's father yelled. I got up and silently lifted Yang's body into the coffin. They made me stand guard outside alone while they went to sleep. Late at night, I heard rustling from the sister's room. I crept over. Through the gap in the curtains, I saw Chen the First climbing in through the second-floor window. "Missed me, baby?" He grabbed her immediately, hands roaming. "First... be gentle. My brother just died. You have to find the killer," she moaned. "Stupid woman. He's dead, good riddance. No one to fight you for the inheritance now," Chen the First chuckled, stripping off her clothes. "Idiot. Find the killer, get compensation money, then send him to jail." She giggled. They didn't even fully undress before going at it by the window. "Jack was weird today. Didn't make a sound when we beat him. And the way he looked at me... that smile gave me the creeps," she said. Chen the First sneered. "My brother was killed by his twin when he was seven. Don't clean up later. Go seduce Jack. I'll come through the front door to 'mourn' Yang, catch you two, and bury him with your brother." Her eyes flashed with malice. "Deal."
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