In 1947, in the United States, a 37-year-old man named Anthony lived under the shadow of his father, Henroin, the head of a little-known mafia. His life had been marked by violence since childhood; Henroin punished any sign of rebellion with beatings and humiliation, and his brother Arackniss rarely offered support, leaving Anthony to suffer in silence. The house was filled with a dense, humid air, the smell of tobacco, cheap alcohol, and aged wood following him at every step. Narrow hallways echoed with the screams and slammed doors that Henroin delivered as if they were part of the decor.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAHCrNmM3o8
Anthony had yellow hair and emerald-green eyes that seemed to shine even brighter against the shadows of the house. He always wore a brown jacket, white shirt, black pants, and dark shoes, as if trying to maintain a shred of order in a home ruled by chaos. From a young age, he was attracted to men, something his father deeply despised. Every time Anthony flirted with someone, Henroin beat him, humiliated him, and called him a “faggot,” ensuring the young man knew his disdain. The atmosphere was always charged with tension, as if any spark could ignite a fire.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBk6MnyRk0q
In 1928, when Anthony had reached adulthood, his younger sister Molly was born. The room where he held her in his arms was lit by the dim glow of an oil lamp, the scent of freshly washed sheets and floating dust filling the air. From that moment, something changed in him.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNoXmtANjC1
—Hello… little one —Anthony whispered, looking at the girl with tenderness—. I’ll always protect you, I promise.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfPpvlZvUte
From that moment on, Anthony became her protector. He would not hesitate to confront his own father or brother to ensure Molly’s safety. He gave her money for her studies and eliminated any threat that got in her way. The death of their mother at Arackniss’s hands only strengthened his resolve. The living room was cold and silent, the dust-covered furniture silent witnesses to the crime.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡILZFYB4xco
—What the hell did you do, idiot?! —Henroin shouted, his voice full of rage—.
—I was fed up with her —Arackniss replied coldly, without a trace of remorse.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZSFAU8lz3z
Henroin made sure the case was closed; he paid to bury the woman in a cheap cemetery and ensured no one asked questions. The family sank into a heavy silence, full of resentment and fear, as if the walls themselves absorbed the despair.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6oWQ5FOWaW
Over time, Molly, now 19, decided to run away from home, escaping the oppression of her father and brothers. While she sought her freedom, Anthony began to lose control of his own life. Consumed by his addiction to “Angel Dust,” he could no longer endure Henroin’s tyranny. The city seemed to close in around him, with gray, wet streets, flickering neon lights, and the constant feeling of being watched.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWvLcFvxONB
—You’re a damn disgrace! —Henroin shouted, his voice full of anger—. I heard you slept with a man!
—So what? —Anthony replied defiantly—. None of your business.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2TcoLzCNOV
Tension exploded in seconds. Henroin beat him to the floor. In a mix of rage and desperation, Anthony reached for his father’s gun. Three shots rang out in the room: to the chest, the arm, and finally the head, reverberating against the walls and making the furniture shake.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY1KLJ7OZ10
—Goodbye… —Anthony whispered, as Henroin fell to the ground.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4bZ5WD381I
But the tragedy didn’t end there. Arackniss, reviewing security footage, filled with resentment, sought revenge. Without Anthony knowing, someone laced his drugs with spider venom. Soon, Anthony suffered convulsions; he tried to reach his phone, but it was too late. He died, leaving behind a life of pain and struggle, in a room that seemed to shrink around him as the light faded.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKUIrycGrIl
Upon descending to Hell, his appearance changed. He became a spider demon: tall, slender, with white skin and fur, white hair tipped with pink, four arms and two main eyes accompanied by smaller eyes like freckles. Occasionally, a third pair of retractable arms sprouted from his back. His prominent chest was covered in fur, and his outfit had pink and white stripes, accompanied by tall boots and gloves. He walked through Pentagram City, where the buildings were spiky towers and the streets glowed with red and violet light, illuminated by infernal lights dancing over the black asphalt. The sulfur-laden fog and the murmurs of demonic creatures enveloped him as he tried to comprehend what had happened.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc55KCFLmwI
Then Valentino appeared, an Overlord and adult film producer, amid the chaotic bustle of the infernal city. His smooth, calculated words managed to break down Anthony’s defenses and convince him to work for him.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaC8tYn2MS5
—What name will you use now? —Valentino asked, with a smile full of hidden intentions.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnLvWW2kk0d
Anthony thought for a moment, recalling his favorite drug and the feeling of power it once gave him. The distant roar of the city, mixed with the shrieks of creatures, seemed to accompany his decision.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyEQ0D0GOgd
—Angel Dust… I’ll call myself Angel Dust —he finally said, blending defiance with acceptance.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡF0zTthyoXL
Valentino nodded, satisfied. Thus began the career of Angel Dust, who would become the brightest star in Hell’s adult entertainment industry, surrounded by a world as cruel and decadent as the life he had left behind.
65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdNetzN6UJF
The End
ns216.73.216.141da2
and then Add to home screen.