Mad Father: Dio

Back then, he didn’t have a name. He couldn’t even remember his own name! When he was alive - before he could only see through one eye - old memories escaped him. The strange man found ways to cloud his dirtied past. A dirty life he lived, but he would redeem himself.

He felt his own parents took the form of the kind man; brooding dark eyes behind glasses. The woman, his mother, was the man’s assistant with the eerie, green eyes. True, he ran once, but he had forgotten how when that fateful winter came.

All of the other victims were housed here and nameless. They were just them. A boy was just a boy. A girl was just a girl. Some adapted to German and others used gestures to communicate.

What intrigued the youthful boy, what this one-eyed child came to be known as, was the Greek man always muttering about multiple gods. A culture of the Olympians, he would tell the boy. The storyteller told him many myths, but the main character he related to was Hephaestus. A god who used fire.

Abandoned by his “mother” to die.

An unrequited love for another.

Hideous, and unloved.

He was still that youthful boy while the others earned names by the madman’s daughter. He never earned his from Aya, his Aphrodite, and he remained that one boy. The boy played with the lighter and a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. He was like a god; punishing the bad humans. Memories flooded back into him as he breathed his last breath. Hera couldn’t hurt him now.

His native language came back too.

Dio. A fire god.