"She was bred to be the perfect soldier. She doesn't blink, she doesn't think, and most importantly she doesn't hesitate. She just kills without remorse."
Her entire life, Storm had only be one thing; a mindless soldier for those around her to use f...
Warning: From now on this will be a very dark story. There will be intense violence, if you cannot handle that I completely understand and thank you for reading this far. Before each chapter, I will have a trigger warning of what it details. If there is no trigger warning you can assume there is no graphic violence or anything like that. Storm will no longer be a moral gray character, but for now a straight up villain. That being said, I hope you all choose to continue reading this story!!!
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Beginning of Part Two
Chapter one
"You thought you could go free, but the system is done for. If you listen real closely, There's a knock at your front door"
TEMPEST'S ENTIRE BODY SMELT OF BLOOD. It was impossible to so her abnormally pale skin for it was painted red, marked by the screams of people's names she couldn't even remember. Every crook and cranny of her body ached, but it was no match for the suffocating feeling weighing down on her heart. Everything had spun out of control; bodies continued to pile up and yet nothing seemed to mend the wound in Tempest's black heart. She was stuck between the claws of death, and it was destroying every last bit of her soul.
Death was not kind. Not in the slightest; it was ravenous and greedy. It took whatever it wanted, whenever it wanted. Yet somehow, the insatiable thirst death felt for life was never satisfied. It was always willing to obtain more, knowing nothing of morals and limits. But how could it? Death was something man should have never trifled with. What was once a natural force turned into something much more dark, and it was man who was responsible for that.
Death hung over Tempest-surrounding and suffocating her in everything she did. But everything she had lost was not natural. Drake and Ember were not taken from her by old age or sickness. No. They were murdered. Everything she had thought she knew was ripped from her, stolen by the sickening rapacity of man. She was destroyed by the men and women, dauntless and erudite alike, who had decided to play god. It was not death who did this to her, it was simply the instrument her tormentors chose to utilize.
Tempest was not a moral being. Maybe if she was, maybe if she had not seen just exactly how cruel man could be, then maybe erudite wouldn't have to learn what happens when death is manipulated for personal gain.
She was their punishment, their very own vengeful angel of death.
Death never rests, and neither would she. Not until every last of them were begging at her feet for mercy, but she would drive them none. She was going to show them the price of their mistakes.
Her recent actions were not what kept Tempest up at night, plagued by nightmares. Rather, it was what she had not done.
Failing to kill her mother was a mistake she paid for every day.
