Try Me Bitch (Vigilante Deku)

On the way

The night air bit into my skin as I stalked through the empty streets, my thoughts a whirlwind of fury. The duffel bag hung heavy on my shoulder, filled with the instruments of war Serpant had handed me. But even its weight couldn't compare to the storm raging inside me.

I was furious—at the police for their inaction, at myself for trusting them, and most of all, at the sick bastards who thought they could get away with hurting those kids. With hurting Eri.

The memory of that filthy, abandoned lab burned in my mind. I could still see the twisted experiments, the lifeless eyes of the children who hadn't made it. And I had walked away, thinking the police would handle it.

Idiot. 

How could I have been so stupid?

I should have known better. 

I should have done something then and there. 

But instead, I left them to rot while the police sat on their hands, doing nothing. 

And now, the only thing I could think about was making sure those monsters paid for every second those kids spent in that hellhole.

My grip tightened around the strap of the duffel bag, the sharp edge of a grenade digging into my side, but I didn't care. The pain was a reminder—a reminder of what I had to do, of the violence I was about to unleash.

The streets were quiet as I made my way back to the lab, but inside, I was anything but. My mind was a screaming void, filled with thoughts of destruction, of blood, of fire. I wanted to burn that place to the ground, to erase every trace of its existence.

And I was going to do it.

No more waiting, no more trusting others to do the right thing.

 This time, I would be the one to set things right.

I reached the lab and pushed through the door, my body thrumming with barely contained rage. This time, I didn't hide, I didn't try to even sneak around. I just didn't care.

The place was just as I remembered it—cold, dark, reeking of death. My blood boiled as I thought of the horrors that had taken place here, the lives that had been destroyed.

I dropped the duffel bag on the ground and unzipped it, the metallic clink of weapons hitting my ears like a war drum. The switchblade Serpant had given me gleamed in the dim light, a promise of pain. I pulled it out and flicked it open, the blade catching the light in a way that sent a shiver down my spine.

I wanted to use it. 

I wanted to find whoever was responsible and carve into them, make them feel the same pain they had inflicted on those kids.

But first, I needed to find out if there was anything left of those children. 

If any of them were still alive.

I moved through the lab, my footsteps echoing in the empty hallways. Each step felt like a countdown, bringing me closer to the edge, to the moment where I would finally let go of all this anger, all this rage.

And then I saw it—a door at the end of the hallway, slightly ajar. My heart pounded in my chest as I approached it, the anger bubbling up inside me like lava. I pushed the door open and stepped inside, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of life.

What I found was a stack of papers on a desk, neatly organized, like someone had been working here recently. I flipped through them, my anger growing with each page. They were reports, detailing the experiments that had been done on the children. The methods, the results, the failures. They wanted to remove their quirks, extract them... but for what? Why? What purpose?

My hands shook as I read the words, the cold, clinical language that described the most horrific acts as if they were nothing. As if those children were nothing.

I couldn't take it anymore. The anger that had been simmering inside me exploded, and before I knew it, I was flipping the desk over, sending papers and equipment flying. The crash echoed through the empty lab, but it wasn't enough.

I grabbed a chair and hurled it across the room, the wood splintering against the wall. The sound of it breaking was satisfying, but it didn't calm the fire inside me. Nothing would—not until I had destroyed everything in this place.

I tore through the room, ripping apart anything I could get my hands on. Glass shattered, metal crunched, and the papers—the sick, twisted evidence of what had been done here—were torn to shreds. I wanted to burn it all, to wipe this place off the face of the earth.

And I would.

I was done being passive, done waiting for others to do what needed to be done. From now on, I was the one in control. I was the one who would make sure that justice was served, even if I had to destroy everything in my path to do it.

The lab was in ruins by the time I was done, the once pristine space reduced to a chaotic mess of debris. But it still wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

I picked up the duffel bag, slung it over my shoulder, and headed for the door. There was still work to be done, and this time, I wouldn't stop until every last one of those bastards was dead.

No one would get away with this. Not on my watch.

And as for the police? 

They'd better pray they didn't get in my way.