Blood-soaked hands

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When darkness eclipsed the nocturnal sky, my world was plunged into a chilling descent guided by treachery and deception. Inexplicable fury ignited within the depths of my being as I chanced upon the abomination that unfolded before my very eyes. At the bar, where the very essence of my sanctuary was defiled by the unquenchable thirst of insidious desires, I beheld her - Dilara, vulnerable and besieged by the clutches of an unsavory perpetrator.
Time halted, and the air grew toxic with a suffocating aura, for the demons stirred within me, roused from a slumber only the deepest abysses of rage could evoke. In one swift motion, I tore myself from the vehicle, my rage echoing through the walls of the establishment as the car door slammed against its frame. I sprinted towards the entrance, each step an expression of my unyielding determination to reclaim what was rightfully mine.

As I violently thrust opened the doors, the putrid tableau that awaited me sent a shudder down my spine. A man, his audacity astonishing, held her captive, using her as a pawn in his grotesque game of power. The laughter of his companions, mocking her with each malicious chortle, resonated through the air, filling my lungs with an unholy rage that threatened to consume me whole. In that moment, as her eyes met mine, a torrent of relief and desperation washed over her fragile frame. Without a moments hesitation, she bolted towards the safety of my embrace, trembling with the gratitude for my timely intervention. Melike, a mere bystander, unable to offer solace to the one she called friend.

Yet, as the fury coursed through my veins, I could no longer contain the tempest that brewed within me. With righteous indignation, I hallowed into the suffocating chaos, my voice cutting through the laughter like an avenging angel. "I'm gonna fucking kill you!" I said, my voice like thunder. With the tempestuous night of a relentless storm, I banished my authority and ushered Dilara and Melike out. In that moment, justice assumed a ferocious guise, tightly clasped within the vengeful grip of my hand. The reckoning was swift and merciless, as I unleashed retribution upon those who attempted to inflict their vile intentions upon Dilara.

Shots rang out, punctuating the night with a resounding declaration of anarchy unleashed. Screams were stifled, drowned by the triumphant roar of my wrath. Pain mingled with terror as bullets found their mark, shattering bones that were once the pillars of their wickedness, leaving them crippled in a realm of abject despair. Unyielding in my pursuit for retribution, I reveled in their visceral agony, their blood-soaked pleas falling upon deaf ears weathered by the desolate symphony of vengeance that cascaded forth. I relished evey sickening crack as my merciless onslaught forged grotesque masks of broken flesh, their lives extinguished by the purifying flames of my wrath.

That man's very mouth became the condult of his damnation, his life extinguished forevermore

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That man's very mouth became the condult of his damnation, his life extinguished forevermore. His companions, mere accessories to his ignominy, found themselves condemned by the deluge of lead that followed suit, staining the bar stools in a macabre ballet of crimson. In that moment, as their lifeless bodies slumped to the ground, lifeblood oozing forth, I stood there, consumed by an exhilaration sensation of triumph. The very fabric of reality seemed to shift, bending to my will, and I felt invincible. Their tainted lives, snuffed out like candles in the unforgiving night, served as evidence to my enduring power and unwavering resolve. The bartender, a witness to this retribution, stood in stupefaction, his eyes wide with a haunting horror. In my benevolence, I pierced through the silence and declared, "utter not a word of this, and I'll grant you the riches beyond your wildest dreams."

Ángel Oscuro's Redemption Where stories live. Discover now