The hall was filled with oppressive silence, the kind that weighed down on everyone present, each breath drawn heavy with the anticipation of impending doom.
My eyes bore into Samantha, unwavering in their intensity, waiting, expecting her to take action, to make a choice that would seal their fate.
Samantha's hands trembled, her fingers curling into fists of desperation, her eyes darting frantically to her father, who looked equally paralyzed with fear, his face a mask of anguish and uncertainty.
She felt the pressure of my gaze, a suffocating weight pressing down on her chest, but she was paralyzed by her own dread, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and panic, unable to find the strength to defy the cruel hand fate had dealt her.
"I can't do it," she finally whispered, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her own heart.
Each word a tremulous admission of her own weakness, her resolve crumbling under the weight of my expectations.
Her legs gave out beneath her, the ground rushing up to meet her as she collapsed onto the cold, unforgiving floor, tears streaming down her face in rivulets of despair.
"Please! I really can't do it," she sobbed, her cries a desperate plea for mercy, her voice echoing through the silent room like a mournful lament.
I watched her, a mix of frustration and disdain twisting my features into a mask of cold indifference, my patience wearing thin in the face of her perceived inadequacy, her unwillingness to meet my demands.
I clenched my fists, the anger simmering beneath the surface threatening to boil over at the sight of her weakness, her tears a bitter reminder of my own vulnerability, my own powerlessness in the face of the cruel hand fate had dealt me.
I sighed deeply, frustration etched on my face as I struggled to contain the storm of emotions raging within me, the turmoil of my own inner demons warring with the cold, calculated cruelty of my intentions.
"This won't do," I muttered, my voice a low growl of frustration as I raised my hand, a blue aura enveloping Samantha's trembling body like a shroud of impending doom, a silent warning of the consequences that awaited her if she dared to defy me.
Her family erupted in panic, the air crackling with the intensity of their fear, their cries of anguish and desperation a cacophony of sorrow and despair.
Kevin's face turned ashen, his features contorted in agony as he watched helplessly, his own terror mirroring that of his daughter, his heart breaking at the sight of her suffering.
His wife fell to her knees, her hands clasped together in a desperate plea for mercy, her voice a trembling whisper of desperation as she begged for forgiveness, her tears mingling with the cold, unyielding floor beneath her.
"Please! She is just a child," her mother cried, her voice a raw, guttural plea for clemency, her words a desperate plea for mercy in the face of unspeakable cruelty.
"Please forgive her," she begged, her voice a trembling whisper of sorrow and despair as she looked up at me, her eyes wide and pleading, the depths of her desperation laid bare for all to see.
Her desperation, her raw, naked fear, struck a chord deep within me, a flicker of empathy sparking to life in the recesses of my cold, hardened heart, a fleeting moment of hesitation in the face of overwhelming despair.
For a fleeting moment, I hesitated, the weight of their suffering bearing down on me like a suffocating blanket, the air thick with the weight of their terror, their anguish a palpable presence in the room.
"Please, Noel. Punish me for my sins, but please spare my daughter," Kevin pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation, each word a desperate plea for mercy in the face of impending doom.
His once-confident demeanor was shattered, replaced by a man stripped bare, laid bare before the merciless judgment of fate, a man begging for redemption in the shadow of his own mistakes.
"Please. She is innocent," he added, his eyes filled with fear and regret, the weight of his own guilt bearing down on him like a crushing weight, his heart heavy with the burden of his own sins.
"If she is innocent, then what about my father?"
I shouted, my voice reverberating through the room like a thunderclap, the echoes of my pain and anger ringing in the air like a haunting melody.
"Why did you betray him?"
Kevin's eyes brimmed with tears, his facade of indifference crumbling under the weight of my accusation.
"I'm sorry," he stammered, each word a trembling confession of his own wrongdoing, his voice choked with emotion.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"I had no other choice. I was blinded by greed. But my daughter is not involved in it."
His words, filled with genuine remorse, hung in the air like a plea for forgiveness, a desperate cry for redemption in the face of his own fallibility.
For a moment, I was silent, the memories of my father's humiliation playing vividly in my mind, each image a stark reminder of the pain and suffering we endured because of this man, this betrayer.
"You had no other choice?" I repeated, my voice a low growl of accusation, each syllable dripping with scorn and contempt, the bitterness of my own betrayal festering like an open wound.
"You were blinded by greed, and now you expect me to show mercy?"
Kevin's tears flowed freely now, his entire body trembling with the weight of his own guilt and shame, his spirit broken by the weight of his own sins.
"Please," he whispered, his voice a broken plea for clemency, his words a desperate cry for salvation in the face of impending judgment.
"Please, Noel. She is innocent."
The sight of him, broken and pleading, stirred something deep within me, a flicker of compassion struggling to break through the icy veneer of my anger and resentment.
But the years of pain and anger had hardened my heart, encasing it in a shell of bitterness and resentment, a shield against the cruelties of the world.
"Innocent?" I echoed, my voice cold and unyielding, each word a bitter reminder of the injustices we had suffered, the wounds that still festered beneath the surface.
"Don't you think I was also innocent?"
Unknowingly to me, tears welled in my eyes, but still, there was a smile, a fake one, plastered on my face, a mask to hide the raw, seething emotions that churned within me.
Kevin's wife clutched Samantha tightly, her own sobs filling the room like a mournful lament, her heartrending cries a testament to the depth of her anguish and despair.
"Please, Noel," she cried, her voice a trembling whisper of desperation, her words a desperate plea for mercy in the face of unspeakable cruelty.
"We're so sorry."
I looked at the family before me, their despair mirroring the helplessness I felt as a child, each face a reflection of the pain and suffering that had defined our lives.
Memories of my father’s desperate pleas, my own childhood of want and struggle, surged within me, a torrent of emotions threatening to engulf me in their wake, a reminder of the wounds that still lingered, the scars that still marred my soul.
I turned my gaze to Samantha, who was still suspended in midair by the blue aura, her body a stark contrast against the opulent surroundings of the room.
Her clothes, luxurious and branded, spoke volumes of privilege and wealth, a stark reminder of the stark divide between her life and mine.
While she had always had access to such finery, my childhood had been marked by the same few worn and torn clothes, barely enough to cover me.
She must have eaten gourmet meals, lived in comfort and luxury, while I scavenged for scraps, my stomach growling with hunger more often than not.
Her life had been one of security and abundance, her parents' care and love evident in their desperate attempts to protect her.
My own parents were long gone, snatched away by the very people whose daughter now floated helplessly before me.
I had been thrust into a harsh, uncaring world, forced to fend for myself from a tender age.
Seeing her parents' reaction, the way they clung to hope and fear, it was clear she had been raised with love and care.
Her life was a stark contrast to mine—her parents' betrayal had ensured my suffering.
And now, I was the villain in this scenario, the one bringing terror and pain.
But why?
Why was I cast as the villain when it was their actions that had led to this?
"It's too late," I murmured, the weight of my words heavy in the air, a grim acknowledgment of the irreversible path we were on.
It's too late for me.
Too late to care about villain or hero.
Too late to forgive.
Too late to be human.
"You need to know how it feels to lose your loved ones," I said, my voice cold and unyielding, each word dripping with the bitterness of my own suffering, the anguish of my own loss.
I clenched my palm into a fist, the sound of bones snapping echoing through the room like a death knell.
Samantha's neck broke with a sickening crack, her lifeless body crumpling to the floor like a discarded puppet.
The room filled with the anguished screams of her parents, their cries of despair and disbelief tearing through the silence like a knife through flesh.
"Samantha!"
Kevin and his wife rushed to their daughter's side, their hands trembling as they tried to shake her awake, their desperate pleas for her to wake up falling on deaf ears.
"No! Wake up, please!"
Kevin's wife sobbed, her voice breaking as she cradled her daughter's lifeless form, her heartrending cries a poignant testament to the depth of her grief.
Kevin's face was a mask of horror and disbelief, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief as he stared at the daughter he had failed to protect, the daughter he had sacrificed on the altar of his own ambition.
"No, no, no," he muttered, tears streaming down his face. "This can't be happening."
They cried and pleaded, their grief raw and palpable.
But their daughter was gone, and nothing they could do would bring her back.
I watched them, but strangely, I felt nothing.
No remorse, no guilt. Just a cold, detached sense of justice.
Their despair seemed almost distant, as if it were happening to someone else.
What replaced my expected sorrow was a deep, unsettling calm—a madness, a desire to kill that coursed through my veins like a drug.
"You monster!"
Samantha's mother screamed, charging at me in a desperate fury.
She was just a normal human, fueled by grief and rage, while I possessed powers far beyond hers.
With a mere flick of my hand, I sent her flying across the room.
Her frail body crashed into the wall with a sickening thud, and she crumpled to the floor, lifeless.
Kevin could only watch helplessly as his world shattered around him.
"No!" he cried out, his voice raw and broken.
In just a few hours, his life had been torn apart.
His wife and daughter lay dead, their bodies lifeless and cold.
I walked towards him, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the now silent room.
Kevin's sobs filled the air, a haunting symphony of grief and despair.
I stopped in front of him, looking down at the broken man who had once been so powerful.
"Don't worry," I said, my voice cold and unwavering.
"I'll make sure to send you to your family."
His tear-streaked face turned up to me, eyes wide with fear and hopelessness.
The sight of his anguish should have brought some sense of satisfaction, but all I felt was a deep, hollow emptiness.
If I can't be human, then I will be a monster.
I knelt down, bringing my face close to his.
"You took everything from me," I whispered, my voice a low, dangerous murmur.
A monster who will paint the world with madness.
"Now, it's time for you to understand that same loss."
Kevin's eyes brimmed with fresh tears as he nodded, a silent acceptance of his fate.
His body trembled, every breath a ragged sob.
Rising to my feet, I raised my hand, the blue aura enveloping it once more.
Kevin's eyes widened in terror as he realized what was about to happen.
He didn't plead for mercy this time; perhaps he knew, deep down, that his pleas would fall on deaf ears, that no amount of begging could save him now.
With a swift, decisive motion, I unleashed the full force of my power upon him, the blue aura surrounding him like a vise, squeezing the very life from his body.
His cries pierced the air, a symphony of agony that reverberated off the walls of the room, a stark reminder of the cruelty of fate.
Every fiber of his being screamed out in torment, each muscle and sinew torn asunder by the relentless onslaught of my rage.
But still, I did not relent.
With a cold, calculated precision, I commanded my knife to deliver the final blow, the blade sinking deep into his flesh with a sickening thud.
I stood there for a moment, surrounded by the remnants of a shattered family.
The silence was deafening, the weight of my actions pressing heavily on me.
I had avenged my father's betrayal, but at what cost?
The emptiness inside me remained, a void that no amount of vengeance could fill.
As I turned to leave, I cast one last look at the scene behind me.
Kevin and his family lay together in death, their suffering finally over.
I walked out into the night, the darkness closing in around me, a silent witness to the path I had chosen.