Chapter Title: The Reign Of Terror
The piercing ring of my phone shattered the silence, slicing through the stillness like a blade. My breath caught—just a flicker—and then I answered it, my voice a soft rasp, but with an underlying venom that begged for release.
"What is it?" I spoke, my tone dripping with impatience and something far darker.
"We've found him," came the voice from the other end, cold and mechanical. "Awaiting your orders."
A slow, cruel smile crept across my lips, curling like a serpent preparing to strike. "Perfect." My voice turned chilling, filled with the thrill of what was to come. "Stay hidden, watch them like shadows, and let them feel safe for now. Let them believe they have time, but you and I both know they're already dead. I'll give the signal when it's time to make them pay."
I didn't wait for the response, slamming the phone down with the kind of force that spoke to the fury burning beneath my skin. A smirk tugged at my lips as I allowed the silence to swallow me whole, savoring the moment.
The anticipation swirled through me like an addictive drug, each passing second heightening the tension in my body. It was almost time.
I stood, my hands trembling—not from fear, but from the sickening pleasure that crept into my veins at the thought of their suffering. It had been too long, but they would regret their mistake.
The bathroom door clicked open, and I stepped inside, feeling the cold air bite at my heated skin. The shower turned on, its roar drowning out my thoughts for a moment. The water surged, pounding down on me, as if it could wash away the violence bubbling up inside me.
I closed my eyes, but the memories didn't fade. They came rushing back—like an iron pressing against soft flesh, the agonized screams of my mother, the sick laughter of men who thought they could break me.
I grinned, a dark, malicious smile that only deepened with every passing second. This—this feeling—wasn't pain anymore. It was power. The iron, the fire, the blood—it wasn't just my past. It was my fuel. And it would burn them all to the ground.
I clenched my fists, feeling the sharp burn of my nails biting into my palms, the bruising of my knuckles as I slammed my fist into the wall. The pain that radiated up my arm? It felt good. It reminded me I was still alive.
"Pain?" I whispered, my voice thick with satisfaction, my lips curling into a cruel smirk. "It's just a reminder that I'm still breathing. And soon, they'll be begging for it. Begging for me to end them."
My voice dropped to a near whisper, a seductive promise to myself, "And when they scream, when they beg for mercy... I'll give them none. Just like they gave my mother."
I stood there, the water running cold as I let the fury that surged inside me settle into a calculated, sadistic calm. They would all die. Slowly. Painfully. Each one of them would know the hell they had put me through.
I grabbed the towel and wrapped it around my body, my reflection in the mirror stopping me in my tracks. The woman staring back at me was no longer who I used to be. There was nothing left of that person. The softness had been stripped away, leaving only the sharp edge of someone unrecognizable—someone who had embraced the darkness and reveled in it.
I met my eyes in the mirror, not flinching. Not feeling a single shred of regret. The monster I had become stared back at me, and she smiled.
I turned away from the mirror, dismissing the remnants of who I had been. My new self was born of rage. And there would be no turning back.
I dressed quickly, hands moving with precision, my every motion fueled by purpose. Army green turtleneck. Black leather jacket. Boots. Jewelry—a reminder of the life I had lost and the one I was about to take from everyone else.
I was no longer the woman who cried at night. I was the predator.
As I stepped away from the bathroom, my voice dropped to a whisper, but the weight of it carried in the air like a death sentence. "This is just the beginning. And when it's done, I'll make sure they're all six feet under. Every last one of them."
Now feeling ready I stepped out of the room.The air felt different as I stepped into it—thick, electric, like a storm on the verge of breaking. Every step was measured, deliberate, each one an echo of the power that thrummed beneath my skin. The servants stood lined up in perfect order, their eyes cast down, their bodies rigid with the silent understanding of what I had become. There was no longer any hesitation in my movements; I had transcended it. The girl I was, the one who once felt fragile and lost, was gone. All that remained was the predator, the force of nature that had been forged from rage and loss.
I walked past them, my presence consuming the space like an unrelenting force. Their submission was more than just obedience—it was the recognition of something far darker. I didn't need to speak. I didn't need to command them. My very presence made them bend, made them shrink beneath the weight of what I represented.
As I neared the car, the guards parted, their heads bowing instinctively. The air seemed to thrum with expectation. They knew what was coming. The door opened with a soft click, but I didn't wait for pleasantries. I slid into the backseat, the leather creaking under me, the scent of it sharp and familiar.
The moment I was inside, the car roared to life, its engine growling like an animal hungry for blood. I didn't look back, didn't waste a glance at the world I was leaving behind. I didn't need to. It would burn, but not yet.
The car sped forward, the landscape blurring outside the window. My thoughts were cold, focused. The storm inside me was far from over. This was just the beginning. Every action from here on out would be mine to command, every life I touched would feel the ripples of the destruction I'd set in motion.
The reign of terror had only just begun.
Slm...