Shadows of Revenge

1. The Double life.

The room was dark, almost suffocating in its stillness. A single reading lamp cast a dim glow over the worn desk, illuminating only the small space where Freen Sarocha sat. She looked hollow, like a shadow of the woman she once was. In her hands, she held a photograph—one of the few things left that connected her to the life she used to have. Her fingers trembled as she traced the edges of the picture. The woman in the photo, with her radiant smile and sparkling eyes, was gone.

A tear slipped down Sarocha's cheek, catching in the soft light before falling silently onto the photograph. It was Sarah. Her Sarah. The woman she had loved with everything she had. The woman who was brutally taken from her.

Sarocha shut her eyes tightly, as if trying to hold back the flood of emotions. But the memories came rushing in, taking her back to that day. The day everything changed.

Flashback: The Last Time They Were Happy

The memory hit her like a wave, pulling her back to their shared bed, where the warmth of Sarah's touch still lingered on her skin. Sarocha lay breathless, her body trembling as the aftermath of their intimacy washed over her. Sarah lay beside her, a smile playing on her lips as she gently withdrew her fingers and licked them clean, her eyes never leaving Sarocha's face.

Saro could never understand how she had been lucky enough to be loved by someone like Sarah. A successful lawyer, known for her wit and strength in the courtroom, Sarah was admired by many. And yet, she had chosen Sarocha—a simple schoolteacher who taught children how to read and write. Every time Saro looked at her, she felt an overwhelming sense of pride and love. Sarah was her first and only love, the person who had made her believe in something greater than herself.

As Sarah slipped out of bed and began getting dressed, Saro watched her in quiet admiration. Sarah's beauty was effortless, her movements graceful as she pulled on her clothes, each action sending a pang of love through Saro's heart. But something felt off today. Sarah seemed distant, her smile a little strained.

"Okay, Saro," Sarah said as she fastened the last button of her shirt. "I'm leaving now. Take care of yourself, and don't forget to eat properly, my baby girl."

Saro rolled her eyes playfully. "Sarah, I'm not a baby anymore. You don't need to baby me every time you leave."

But Sarah, as always, reached out and pinched Saro's nose affectionately. "You'll always be my baby girl," she teased, her tone light but her eyes heavy with something unspoken.

Saro stuck her tongue out, pretending to be annoyed, but inside, something didn't feel right. As Sarah turned to leave, Saro caught a glimpse of hesitation in her movements. A fleeting moment where her shoulders tensed, her eyes dimmed.

"Sarah," Saro called out, her voice softer now. "Is everything alright? Where are you going?"

For a second, Sarah paused, as if considering telling her something. But then she smiled—a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Everything's fine, baby girl. Don't worry about me. Just keep being kind, just like you are."

And then she was gone. The door clicked shut, leaving Saro alone in the silence of their apartment. But something inside her had twisted that day—a deep, unsettling feeling that this was more than just a normal goodbye. That this would be the last time she would see the love of her life.

Present Day: The Beast Inside

Sarocha's eyes snapped open, her heart heavy with the memory. That day had been the last time she ever saw Sarah alive. Hours later, she had been called to identify her body—bruised, battered, and beyond recognition. The details of Sarah's death had haunted her ever since, the brutal reality of what had been done to her lover seared into her mind. Saro had lost everything that day—her love, her future, her hope. And in its place, a darkness had taken root inside her, one that consumed her entirely.

Now, she lived a double life. By day, she was still the schoolteacher, the one who pretended to care about shaping young minds. But by night, she was something else—a beast, driven by the desire for revenge. A cold, calculating force determined to hunt down the men who had destroyed her world.

As Saro sat in the dimly lit room, clutching the photo, she heard the door creak open. Nam stepped in, her eyes immediately going to Saro, her childhood friend who had turned into something far more dangerous than anyone could have imagined.

Nam was Saro's right hand now, the one person who had stood by her from the beginning. She had watched Saro transform from the loving, gentle woman she once knew into the ruthless beast she had become. And in Nam's eyes, Saro was justified. What happened to Sarah was beyond inhuman, and if the justice system wasn't going to do anything about it, they would.

Nam approached, holding a file in her hands. "We've got our next target," she said, her voice steady but serious. She handed the file over to Saro, who took it without hesitation.

Saro glanced down at the file, flipping it open with cold, practiced precision. Inside were pictures, reports, and details. Nam continued, "The minister's son. He was the one who led it all. He's the one who—" She hesitated, her eyes flickering with hesitation, knowing exactly what Saro was about to ask.

"How many times?" Saro's voice was ice, her eyes locked on the page in front of her.

Nam closed her eyes for a moment, the weight of the truth heavy on her. "Fifteen," she said quietly. "Fifteen times, Saro. He destroyed her from the inside out. Her uterus was..."

Saro's hands clenched around the file, her knuckles white as she held back the fury rising inside her. Nam continued, her voice now filled with disgust. "He burned her with cigarettes, beat her, and when he was done, he made sure she would never..."

Nam didn't need to finish the sentence. Saro's mind filled in the gaps—the brutality, the cruelty, the sheer inhumanity of what had been done to Sarah. Her breath quickened as the rage built up inside her, searing through her veins like fire.

Nam looked at her friend—her best friend—and felt the weight of the task ahead. Saro was no longer just Saro. She was a beast, an instrument of revenge, and Nam knew that nothing would stop her now.

With a calm that betrayed the storm brewing inside her, Saro closed the file and stood. Her eyes were cold, her mind set. "He'll pay," she said softly, but there was a deadly finality to her words. "Like the others. But worse."

Nam nodded. She had seen this determination before. This was Saro's way now. No mercy, no hesitation. She would kill him, just as he had destroyed Sarah.

As Saro walked out of the room, the weight of the past two years hung heavy in the air. She had been broken once, but now she was something else entirely. Something far more dangerous.

.........

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