**The Shattered Soul**

Suzuya's ninth birthday was a bleak reminder of the life he once knew. The spark that once danced behind his eyes had long since faded, replaced by a dull, empty stare. The child he used to be was gone, consumed by the unimaginable horrors Big Madam had inflicted upon him. The memories of his parents, of laughter and love, were now nothing more than a distant, fading whisper. Big Madam's cruelty had been relentless, her arsenal of torture vast and depraved. Suzuya's small body had been subjected to unspeakable pain, his skin marred by the countless needles that had pierced him. He remembered the feeling of being suspended from the roof, his tiny hands grasping for something, anything, to hold onto as the world spun around him. The memory of his castration, a brutal act designed to ensure he remained "girly forever," was a seared scar in his mind. As he went about his day, Suzuya's movements were mechanical, his smile a grotesque parody of happiness. He'd paste on a bright, fake grin, a desperate attempt to please Big Madam, to avoid her wrath. His eyes, once bright and curious, now seemed dull and lifeless, a reflection of the soul that had been shattered within him. Big Madam's latest obsession was dressing Suzuya up in a long, golden wig and a frilly white dress. She'd spend hours applying layers of makeup to his pale face, transforming him into a grotesque, doll-like imitation of a child. She'd take pictures of him, cooing over his "gorgeous" appearance, and dance with him around the room, twirling and spinning to some unheard melody. As they danced, Big Madam would lavish praise upon Suzuya, telling him what a beautiful, talented child he was. Suzuya would sit in her lap, his eyes vacant, as she stroked his head and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. The fear that had once gripped him had given way to a numbness, a detachment from the world around him. He was a puppet, a plaything for Big Madam's twisted desires, and he knew it. In those moments, Suzuya's mind would wander, drifting to a place where he was free, where he was loved and cherished. But those fleeting escapes were always short-lived, and he'd be yanked back to reality by Big Madam's cruel hand. As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, Suzuya's existence became a never-ending cycle of pain and humiliation. He was trapped in a living nightmare, with no escape in sight. The child he once was was gone, lost forever, and in his place was a shell of a person, a mere echo of a soul that had been crushed beneath Big Madam's heel.