Dancing With The Devil

For a significant part of my life, two pillars held everything together: dance and my family. Then, everything shattered the night my mother was murdered. I pleaded with the police to take her death seriously and find the culprit urgently, but they dismissed me. Helpless, I watched as they labeled it a suicide - until a letter arrived.

In that letter, from my mother, was a check for over ten grand, a photo of an unfamiliar man, and an address leading to his dark domain, with the words "FIND HIM" boldly scrawled.

I followed through. Whoever took my mother from me wouldn't escape justice; they'd have to face me. And I didn't care if seeking vengeance transformed me into someone unrecognizable.

They would pay.