CORRUPTED

ONE: TWISTED JUSTICE

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WHAT'S YOUR MOTIVE?

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"L-Let go. P-Please!" The man coughed blood. "I... I beg of you." She stayed silent, enjoying the view.

He begged of her...

(She doesn't care.)

One push.

The man staggered.

Second push.

He stilled.

Unable...

...to move.

Choked his cry. Tears flowing for forgiveness.

(She smiled.)

Third push.

Finally—

windpipe has completely...

(crushed.)

Streaks of splattering red, viscous fluid arched in the air, dancing with such delightful grace. Her eyes glinted at the sight, blood staining her soft cheek.

Her face said it all—sincerity.

(Unusual kind of sincerity.)

She watched the unfolding justice in front of her eyes. Desperate hands were clinging onto her deadly grip—

despair.

Sound of a choked sob was a symphony to her ears—

beseech.

Eyes widened in horror as she dearly digs it in for the last time—

terror.

Sharp edge deeply slicing the insides of that half-alive beating flesh—a description of a crushed throat. Gentle with care, yet penetrating passionately, surely—making a slit till the way to the nape.

Killing softly—

sweet torture.

Desperate claws of fingertips as his dull eyes rolled in the back of his head, his motionless body wrangling unto the hands of—

death.

Struggling had vanquished, subjugation was carried on that silent, helpless cry—

hushed.

She pulled it out, scrutinizing the profuse spurts of that sanguine fluid, spiralling to the covenants of gratifying destruction. She merely watched with grim satisfaction. Like a freed caged-martyr who had finally triturated that tight, shackles of vengeance. Watched the collapsing body threatening to fall onto the cold, lepidote ground covered by the shallow girth. Eyeing the lifeless form like it's floating in the heavens—like a sacrifice she's offering to the gods and goddesses—not that she had ever believed such entities had ever existed, for no rescue had ever came to aid her.

Not even for once in her life.

None.

Never.

[Left helpless by her own.]

There's only hell, only demons remained—hiding beneath on the skin of a human. She felt heroic as she had finally expunge such repugnant man—the man whose life she had taken away, consigning his fucking soul to the pit of throes. Not the scum whom she had first asphyxiated.