The Wounded
The Wounded
The hallway of the university library was always quietest at 11:00 AM, save for the rhythmic click of Gazelle’s heels. She was the bright star of the Philosophy department — highly intelligent, effortlessly confident, and widely adored. In the mid-1980s, a woman commanding academic and extracurricular spaces with such poise was rare, making her a frequent subject of admiration and envy.
Among her quiet admirers was Tommy, a senior statistics student three years her elder. Tommy was a stark contrast to Gazelle; he was deeply introverted, routinely fading into the background, and struggled to comprehend how someone could possess both striking beauty and unshakable security. For months, his routine consisted of little more than watching her from a distance, calculating the odds of a connection he felt was mathematically impossible. He knew she would likely choose a partner far superior to him in status and ambition, but the urge to speak to her eventually outweighed his hesitation.
One morning, as she made her scheduled walk toward the library archives, Tommy stepped into the corridor.
“Ahem. Excuse me,” he stammered, his voice catching in his throat.
Gazelle stopped, turning with an open, curious expression. “Yes? Who are you? Do we know each other?”
“No,” Tommy said weakly, his hands tensing at his sides. “But we can be friends, right?”
Instead of the dismissal he anticipated, Gazelle offered a warm smile. “Sure, why not? I’m Gazelle, from the Philosophy department.”
The brief exchange sent a surge of excitement through Tommy. It was the foothold he needed. Over the following weeks, their casual greeting evolved into a routine. They began meeting frequently in the library, spending hours discussing current affairs, political theory, and global matters. Yet, every time Tommy built up the courage to express his deeper feelings, his confidence shattered. Gazelle spoke passionately about her progressive dreams of becoming an ambassador and traveling the world. Compared to her expansive vision, Tommy felt small and stagnant.
The divide between the extroverted dreamer and the introverted statistician felt too wide to cross, until an autumn afternoon changed everything.
Gazelle was walking down a quiet street after retrieving a fresh stack of texts from the community library. She was unaware that Tommy was walking a half-block behind her, as he often did, simply to ensure she made it home safely.
As she turned a sharp corner, three men stepped out from an alley, blocking her path. Their intentions were immediately clear, their comments sharp and aggressive. Gazelle didn’t freeze; she swung her heavy bag of books, striking the closest man to protect herself. But the numbers were against her, and the men quickly began to overwhelm her.
Before they could close in, Tommy charged into the alley. He had grabbed a heavy piece of discarded metal tubing from a nearby construction scrap pile. With a rare burst of adrenaline, he swung the makeshift weapon, striking the backs of the men with enough force to break their momentum. Disoriented and bruised by the sudden, fierce defense, the group scattered into the surrounding streets.
Gazelle stood breathing heavily, looking at Tommy as he dropped the metal pipe, his hands shaking from the confrontation. In that moment, the quiet statistician was completely redefined in her eyes. He was no longer just a studious friend from the library; he was her protector.
The following morning, Tommy arrived at their usual meeting spot carrying a fresh bouquet of flowers. The nervousness was still there, but his resolve was steady. He offered the bouquet and asked her to be with him.
Gazelle looked at the flowers, then up at him, and smiled. “Yes,” she said.
For the first few weeks, the new relationship felt like a triumph. But as the initial shock of the rescue faded, the reality of their deeply different worlds began to resurface, leaving Gazelle to ponder what this partnership truly meant for her future.
This event was enough to win the heart of gazelle. She saw her hero in the shape of tommy. Next day Tommy brought a bouquet and proposed her. She Said yes. After a few weeks she expressed about Tommy to her parents. Gazelle’s dad was a renowned civil engineer. Her mother went bonkers at her. The both didn’t want her to marry this man. As they didn’t know much about him. They wanted her to marry a man of her caliber. But she was adamant and the marriage was thus decided at Christmas. The both tied a knot.
Seldom did Gazelle know that Tommy was a very short-sighted man who didn’t really regard women as strong or independent. He was usually aggressive and more of a narcist. He didn’t directly stop her from her endeavors but her did criticize her most of the times for not being around the house just to serve him. Gazelle was a very progressive woman. She worked hard and became an ambassador despite the odds. She conceived after a few months. She wanted to drop the baby. But her father stopped her. Her father had been diagnosed wit last stage liver cancer. He died after a few months just before the baby was born. As two months passed Gazelle gave birth to a beautiful baby girl just like herself named Lisa Elle. She had to pursue her civil service so Lisa spent most of her time with her Grandmother Nora James. Nora was a lazy woman. She didn’t really care about the little girl. Nora was more selfish and whatever Gazelle gave for her daughter she usually ignored her responsibilities towards the girl. Years passed Gazelle was so absorbed in her job as she wanted to avoid Tommy, she also avoided Lisa.
The alleyway rescue changed everything for Gazelle. Seeing a protector in the quiet statistician, she accepted Tommy’s flower bouquet and his marriage proposal the very next day.
When she shared the news with her family, the reaction was explosive. Her father, a renowned civil engineer, and her mother fiercely opposed the union. They knew nothing of Tommy and desperately wanted their brilliant daughter to marry someone of her own intellectual caliber. But Gazelle remained unyielding. Defying her parents’ wishes, the couple tied the knot that Christmas.
The Cracks in the Foundation
The illusion of the “hero” shattered quickly after the wedding. Tommy revealed himself to be short-sighted, aggressive, and deeply narcissistic. He possessed a regressive view of women, viewing independence as a threat. While he did not explicitly forbid Gazelle from pursuing her career, he subjected her to relentless criticism, furious that she wasn’t staying home solely to serve his needs.
Despite his toxic behavior, Gazelle’s progressive drive never wavered. She worked tirelessly, defying the odds to secure a prestigious position as a diplomat.
A few months into her career triumph, Gazelle discovered she was pregnant. Overwhelmed by her volatile marriage and demanding career, her first instinct was to terminate the pregnancy. However, her father intervened. He had just been diagnosed with terminal, late-stage liver cancer and begged her to keep the child. He passed away just months later, right before his granddaughter entered the world.
Two months after his passing, Gazelle gave birth to a beautiful baby girl named Lisa Elle, who inherited her mother’s striking looks.
A Childhood of Neglect
Driven to advance in the civil service — and desperate to escape Tommy’s suffocating presence at home — Gazelle threw herself entirely into her global diplomatic work. She left baby Lisa in the care of her grandmother, Nora James.
Nora was a lazy, deeply selfish woman. She gladly took whatever money and resources Gazelle provided for the child but completely ignored her actual caregiving responsibilities. Left emotionally abandoned by both her working mother and her negligent grandmother, Lisa struggled deeply. At school, she lacked the confidence and social tools she deserved, lagging behind academically and emotionally.
When Lisa turned seven, her brother Madox was born. For a brief moment, Lisa was thrilled, believing she finally had a companion to cure her loneliness. The reality was much harsher. Tommy and Gazelle openly favored Madox, pushing Lisa even further into the shadows. Worse, they transformed the young girl into an unpaid, full-time caretaker for her little brother.
Isolated at home and heavily bullied at school, Lisa was treated as an outcast. Classmates labeled her a loser and refused to sit next to her, mistaking her trauma-induced withdrawal for a lack of intelligence.
The Onset of the Storm
The true nightmare began when Lisa turned 12. Her mother expected her to run all the household grocery errands on her blue BMX bicycle while keeping her brother constantly entertained at the park.
It was during this time that Madox began making strange, repetitive noises and constant humming sounds. To anyone else, the noises were benign background sounds. To Lisa, they felt like physical torture. Every hum sent a wave of inexplicable rage and neurological agony through her body.
When Lisa begged her parents to make him stop, they weaponized her pain against her. “You are a cruel, hateful sister who can’t tolerate her own brother,” they scolded.
Lisa cried herself to sleep for nights on end, her genuine psychological suffering completely dismissed. She sank into a profound depression, and her academic performance plummeted. To make matters worse, young Madox realized the power he held over her. He became a malicious plotter, intentionally mimicking and humming just to watch her suffer for his own amusement. Trapped in a living hell, Lisa harbored dark, desperate wishes that her family would simply die.
Tragedy and Transition
Lisa somehow endured, pushing through her bachelor’s degree and entering her master’s program under a cloud of constant familial stress. Then, the family dynamic imploded.
The hallway of the university library was always quietest at 11:00 AM, save for the rhythmic click of Gazelle’s heels. She was the bright star of the Philosophy department — highly intelligent, effortlessly confident, and widely adored. In the mid-1980s, a woman commanding academic and extracurricular spaces with such poise was rare, making her a frequent subject of admiration and envy.
Among her quiet admirers was Tommy, a senior statistics student three years her elder. Tommy was a stark contrast to Gazelle; he was deeply introverted, routinely fading into the background, and struggled to comprehend how someone could possess both striking beauty and unshakable security. For months, his routine consisted of little more than watching her from a distance, calculating the odds of a connection he felt was mathematically impossible. He knew she would likely choose a partner far superior to him in status and ambition, but the urge to speak to her eventually outweighed his hesitation.
One morning, as she made her scheduled walk toward the library archives, Tommy stepped into the corridor.
“Ahem. Excuse me,” he stammered, his voice catching in his throat.
Gazelle stopped, turning with an open, curious expression. “Yes? Who are you? Do we know each other?”
“No,” Tommy said weakly, his hands tensing at his sides. “But we can be friends, right?”
Instead of the dismissal he anticipated, Gazelle offered a warm smile. “Sure, why not? I’m Gazelle, from the Philosophy department.”
The brief exchange sent a surge of excitement through Tommy. It was the foothold he needed. Over the following weeks, their casual greeting evolved into a routine. They began meeting frequently in the library, spending hours discussing current affairs, political theory, and global matters. Yet, every time Tommy built up the courage to express his deeper feelings, his confidence shattered. Gazelle spoke passionately about her progressive dreams of becoming an ambassador and traveling the world. Compared to her expansive vision, Tommy felt small and stagnant.
The divide between the extroverted dreamer and the introverted statistician felt too wide to cross, until an autumn afternoon changed everything.
Gazelle was walking down a quiet street after retrieving a fresh stack of texts from the community library. She was unaware that Tommy was walking a half-block behind her, as he often did, simply to ensure she made it home safely.
Get Hurmat Faiza’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
As she turned a sharp corner, three men stepped out from an alley, blocking her path. Their intentions were immediately clear, their comments sharp and aggressive. Gazelle didn’t freeze; she swung her heavy bag of books, striking the closest man to protect herself. But the numbers were against her, and the men quickly began to overwhelm her.
Before they could close in, Tommy charged into the alley. He had grabbed a heavy piece of discarded metal tubing from a nearby construction scrap pile. With a rare burst of adrenaline, he swung the makeshift weapon, striking the backs of the men with enough force to break their momentum. Disoriented and bruised by the sudden, fierce defense, the group scattered into the surrounding streets.
Gazelle stood breathing heavily, looking at Tommy as he dropped the metal pipe, his hands shaking from the confrontation. In that moment, the quiet statistician was completely redefined in her eyes. He was no longer just a studious friend from the library; he was her protector.
The following morning, Tommy arrived at their usual meeting spot carrying a fresh bouquet of flowers. The nervousness was still there, but his resolve was steady. He offered the bouquet and asked her to be with him.
Gazelle looked at the flowers, then up at him, and smiled. “Yes,” she said.
For the first few weeks, the new relationship felt like a triumph. But as the initial shock of the rescue faded, the reality of their deeply different worlds began to resurface, leaving Gazelle to ponder what this partnership truly meant for her future.
Exploitation and Awakening
Seeking refuge, Lisa moved into the home of her maternal uncle, David, who lived with his wife and daughter. Rather than offering sanctuary, they saw a vulnerable, broken girl they could easily exploit.
Lisa managed to secure a respectable job as a bank officer. However, her aunt and uncle forcibly took every penny of her salary, while simultaneously forcing her to act as their unpaid domestic maid.
Then, 2020 arrived, bringing the global COVID-19 pandemic. The bank locked down, and Lisa left her position. Soon after, Uncle David fell critically ill with the virus. Despite the years of cruelty they had inflicted upon her, Lisa selflessly nursed him back to health. When he recovered, the family remained completely thankless, treating her care as an obligation.
One late night, while scrolling online, Lisa stumbled upon an article describing Misophonia — a rare neurological brain disorder where specific sounds trigger a profound fight-or-flight response.
Lisa broke down and wept tears of profound relief. She wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t a bad person or a cruel sister. It was a real medical condition. The realization brought immense grief, knowing that her highly educated, elite parents had utterly deserted her rather than helping her, but it also brought immense clarity.
A New Beginning
Armed with the truth, Lisa realized she could no longer waste her life in the thankless banking sector or under her uncle’s roof. She packed her bags, left her toxic family behind forever, and took a job at a local preschool.
In the classroom, Lisa found her true calling. Having survived a childhood devoid of empathy and understanding, she poured boundless patience, love, and protection into her young students. She understood the children who processed the world differently.
Over the years, Lisa’s innovative, highly empathetic teaching methods gained global attention. She rose to become one of the most renowned and respected preschool educators in the world. Using her global platform, she became a powerful, leading international advocate for Misophonia and Autism awareness, turning her lifetime of profound wounds into a shield of protection for the world’s most vulnerable children.
The kitchen fight was the final fracture. Disowned by her father, framed by Madox, and later bled dry by her predatory Uncle David during the 2020 pandemic, Lisa Elle reached her absolute breaking point.
When she discovered the word Misophonia online, it didn’t just bring tears — it brought a cold, terrifying clarity. She realized she was completely sane, but the world around her was sick. When her thankless uncle recovered from COVID-19 and immediately began demanding her banking salary while deliberately chewing loudly to spite her, Lisa walked out.
She didn’t go to a preschool. She went off the grid.
The Recruitment
Lisa’s sharp analytical mind — forged through years of hyper-vigilance and a master’s degree — caught the attention of a deep-cover wing of a global intelligence agency. They didn’t see an unstable woman; they saw a ghost. Someone with no digital footprint, no remaining family ties, and an uncanny, hyper-acute auditory awareness. Her misophonia made her a human sonar; she could detect the slightest shift in breath, a targets’ nervous swallowing, or a hidden surveillance device by its faint hum.
The agency trained her to fight, to hack, and to vanish. But they couldn’t untrain her brain.
As she operated in the shadows of international espionage, the psychological damage of her childhood curdled into a dark, lethal ideology. The sounds hadn’t stopped. Everywhere she went, bad people hummed, clicked their pens, smudged their lips, and mocked the defenseless. To Lisa, these sounds became the universal signature of the cruel and the narcissistic. She decided to use her elite spy training for a personal, classified mission.
She became the Vocalist Hunter — a phantom serial killer cutting through the underworld.
The First Target: Uncle David
Her dark crusade began where her final exploitation occurred. One rainy night, Lisa slipped through the window of Uncle David’s home, bypassing the security systems she had easily hacked.
David sat in his armchair, mindlessly slurping his tea and making that wet, clicking sound with his tongue that used to make Lisa cry for mercy. She stepped out of the shadows, dressed in matte black tactical gear.
Before he could scream, she secured him. She didn’t use a gun. She forced him to listen to the absolute, suffocating silence of his own terror.
“You took my youth, my money, and my sanity,” Lisa whispered, her voice devoid of any warmth. “And you thought I was the broken one.”
When the police found him, there were no signs of a struggle — just a heart that had given out from sheer, unadulterated terror, and a pair of industrial noise-canceling headphones resting on his chest.
The Sibling Rivalry: Madox
Madox had grown into a successful corporate manipulator, using his charm to climb the ladder while stepping on everyone below him. He still used his signature hum to intimidate subordinates in the office.
Lisa tracked him to a secluded parking garage after his late-night shift. As he walked to his luxury car, a low, vibrating drone echoed through the concrete structure.
“Hmm-mm… mmm-hmmm…”
Madox froze. The sound wasn’t coming from him. It was bouncing off the walls, amplified through the garage’s PA system. It was his own childhood humming, recorded and distorted into a demonic, deafening loop.
Lisa stepped out from behind a concrete pillar. Madox’s eyes widened as he recognized his sister, but she was entirely changed. Her posture was lethal; her eyes were like ice.
“Lisa? What is this? Turn that off, it’s annoying!” he shouted, covering his ears.
“Annoying?” Lisa smiled, a terrifying, humorless expression. “No, Madox. It’s torture. Let’s see how long your brain lasts.”
She closed the distance with terrifying spy precision. Madox tried to strike her, but she slipped past his guard, using a swift, tactical strike to disable him. Before his heart stopped, the last thing he heard was the echo of his own malice, drowning him in the very noise he used to destroy her childhood.
The Architect: Tommy
The final name on her list was Tommy. He was an old man now, living alone after his young wife Samy took his money and deserted him. He sat in his dark living room, old, bitter, and narcissistic to the end, mindlessly humming a tuneless melody into the empty house.
The door chimes didn’t ring. Lisa simply appeared in front of him.
Tommy looked up, his eyes glassy. “Lisa? You’re… you’re alive? They said you went mad.”
“I was never mad, Father,” Lisa said softly, pulling a pair of tactical gloves tight over her hands. “I was just waiting for the world to quiet down.”
Tommy tried to argue, to criticize her, to tell her she was a terrible daughter who never served him properly. But Lisa didn’t let him finish. She utilized a lethal, untraceable poison known only to her agency — one that simulated the exact terminal organ failure that had taken her beloved grandfather. As Tommy took his final breath, the house fell into a profound, perfect silence.
The Global Silent Vigilante
With her family eliminated, Lisa Elle did not stop. Her hatred generalized to any human who used their voices, noises, or power to harass, sabotage, or mock neurodivergent individuals.
By day, she used her spy cover to fund and build state-of-the-art, soundproofed schools and sanctuaries for children with Misophonia and Autism, becoming a ghost-donor and advocate the world praised. But by night, utilizing global intelligence databases, she hunted down bullies, abusive parents, and toxic individuals who intentionally drove sensory-sensitive people to suicide.
To the world, she was a myth — a serial killer who left no physical evidence, only a trail of deceased abusers. Her calling card was always left at the scene: a broken audio recorder, and a profound, permanent silence.
