A few hours passed, and the room grew darker as evening descended. My tormenting of Trish was so satisfying that I had no intention of stopping. She had become a mere puppet in my twisted game of revenge, a pawn that was born to be manipulated for my amusement.
As I continued to torment her, I couldn't help but reflect on the events that had brought me to this point. The memories of past betrayals and injustices had fueled my desire for revenge, and now, I was exacting that revenge with a relentless cruelty.
I looked down on Trish after tormenting her for hours; she had just fainted. Her eyes turned white due to the pleasure she had experienced when climaxing from the vibrator stuck on her, and the pain she endured each time a drop of hydrochloric acid touched her skin had left her writhing in agony. Blood gushed from the wounds I had inflicted around the area of her body that couldn't be fully concealed by clothing.
Feeling a perverse sense of satisfaction, I had finally decided to stop the torment, removing the vibrator and setting aside the hydrochloric acid. Trish, her body bruised and battered, lay on the floor, gasping for breath and sobbing uncontrollably.
I stood over her, a sick sense of satisfaction washing over me as I gazed upon her battered and broken form. It was a moment of realization that I had become a monster, driven by my thirst for vengeance to commit unspeakable acts. My quest for retribution had consumed me, and I was now left to grapple with the consequences of my actions.
As I looked down at Trish, I couldn't help but notice the perverse evidence of my own arousal. My trousers were stained with precum, a disturbing testament to the depths of my depravity. I chuckled darkly, acknowledging the truth that I had become a psychopath.
Just then, a sudden ping sound broke the eerie silence of the room, and a prompt appeared in front of me.
[YOU HAVE EARNED THE TITLE REVENGER]
I turned and looked at Trish, who lay lifeless on the floor. I let out a sigh and muttered to myself, "I won't let you die so easily.", I retrieved the first aid kit from the desk and began administering medication to the wounds I had inflicted on her in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding with a sinister look shown on my face i said silently"Your torture is just beginning trish".
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A few minutes had passed, and I had finished tending to her wounds with first aid, carefully applying bandages to cover her battered body. I glanced towards her; she was still asleep, the torment having pushed her into unconsciousness. As I observed her peaceful slumber, a mix of emotions welled up inside me,a twisted satisfaction at my deeds and an unsettling irritation at her tranquillity.
Taking a deep breath to collect my thoughts, I muttered to myself, "Phew, let's allow her to rest for today while I contemplate what kind of torment I should subject her to tomorrow." My gaze drifted to the nearby desk, where a pen and a colorful notepad awaited my attention.
Approaching the notepad, I seized the pen, and my thoughts flowed onto the paper as I inscribed the chilling words, "YOUR TORMENTS HAVE JUST BEGUN." A sinister smile curled on my lips as I admired my handiwork, relishing the psychological torment I was inflicting upon her.
Yet, as I stood there, something nagged at the back of my mind. I questioned the extent of my newfound abilities, wondering how long my mind control truly lasted. Pacing back and forth, I contemplated aloud, "Considering she was under my influence for nearly eight, nine, ten hours," I guessed, then continued my train of thought after a brief pause, "before fainting, there's a possibility that my mind control lasts for a full day."
My thoughts swirled as I continued to ponder the enigmatic limits of my powers. "However," I mused, "there's also the chance that my abilities were meant to wane after 8, 9, or 10 hours. I lost track in the midst of torturing the nurse, becoming absorbed in the rhythm of my actions, and failing to account for the boundaries of my newfound powers."
With a resigned sigh, I shifted my focus back to the nurse, her lifeless form sprawled on the floor. "I don't really care," I said dismissively. "At least I derived some satisfaction from witnessing her agony, from the screams of pain I extracted. There's no greater satisfaction than this."
The wall clock on the nurse's office wall caught my eye, and I noted the time: 4:30 PM. A wave of resentment washed over me as I contemplated returning home. Memories from the past resurfaced, and I grumbled, "Would you look at that, it's 4:30 PM. I should start heading home."
My recollections led me down a darker path, and anger simmered beneath the surface. "If I recall from my past memories," I began, "my mom would always bombard me with questions about the wounds covering my body whenever I returned home. It reached a point where she couldn't bear it any longer, and she lodged a complaint with the school."
My mood soured further as I delved into those memories. "But you know what the school management told my mom?" I seethed, my voice tinged with frustration. "They claimed that I was the instigator in most of those conflicts."
In the office, with me sitting beside my mum, I could see her fiercely defending me. Her words echoed in my mind, "I know Kazuma," she had asserted, "he doesn't provoke fights. He has always been a well-behaved and quiet child." Witnessing her unwavering support stirred a profound sadness within me, causing tears to well up in my eyes. However, her impassioned defense was abruptly interrupted when the chancellor strode into the room.
The chancellor, known as Sherlock, wielded significant authority within the school. As he entered, his disdain for my mother was palpable in his expression. Settling into a designated seat with an air of superiority, he signaled everyone to fall silent.
"TO BE CONTINUED NEXT CHAPTER "