As the bear-like man choked in the air in front of her, Cassie finally let out a breath of relief.

Mr. Patricks was tough. Really tough. This was the first person who could almost completely ignore her psychic influence. Telekinesis worked on him, but it could do very little against a man as physically resilient as him.

Truth be told, if Cassie reacted a moment later than she did, he could’ve killed her right then and there. Without the armor, Cassie was still mortal, and a stray bullet could end her life. When he engaged with her in melee, if she wasn’t able to form a poorly crafted shield between herself and his fist, he could’ve crippled her or even beaten her to death with his bare hands.

This was a warning for Cassie. Yes, she was powerful. Powerful enough to toy around with a police officer and enough to make almost anyone obey her command, at least for a short period of time. But she was far from omnipotent. If a gang member could almost kill her, then what could professional SWAT squads do? Or the military and the National Guard? She had to be careful.

Of course, as soon as she ditched her discreteness and got into her armor, Mr. Patricks was no longer much of a threat. Amplified by the armor gifted to her along with her powers, Cassie was able to easily seize the man, break his arm, and start choking the life out of him.

A few of the bodyguards tried to run out of the office, only to be frozen where they stood. Try as they might, they couldn’t lift a finger. All these brutes could do was watch as the events unfolded around them.

As she once again controlled the office, Cassie suddenly coughed. As the adrenaline of the near-death experience wore off, she could feel pain rising from her chest. The shield did a lot of work, but she was still struck hard, and her ribs hurt! Thankfully, nothing too bad seemed to be happening.

With that realization, Cassie turned back to Mr. Patricks, her expression hidden behind the silver mask. To say she was furious at the man who almost killed her was an understatement.

“What do we have here? What’s your name and how are you related to the Reese Cartel?” She said, her voice sounding terrifyingly mechanical as it was filtered through the armor. At this point, she was no longer the vulnerable young woman who almost got put down by a bullet. No...she had become something much more powerful and much more terrifying.

Mr. Patricks didn't answer. He couldn’t. Not when he was still having the life choked out of him. Scoffing, Cassie dropped him onto the ground and watched as he struggled for breath.

“Answer me.” She demanded, not wasting a second.

The reply was as polite as one could hope from a man like Mr. Patricks.

“Suck me!”

“Not quite the answer I wanted.” Cassie wasn’t amused. She stepped up to the man, grabbed onto his throat, and stared into his eyes. Behind the mask, her eyes were completely silver as she used her power to the maximum intensity and went through the man's thoughts and memories by force. “Let’s see...no, this is not a nightmare. I am not a witch either. Ok...Liam Patricks, huh? That’s your name? Third highest-ranking member in the Reese Cartel...I thought so. Mission? Escort cash from this establishment back to the cartel’s warehouse? And where is that exactly? Nevermind...I got it.”

Liam Patrick's eyes widened. Now he was afraid. Scratch that. Now he was terrified. The veteran cartel member was far from a coward. No...the times he had killed and he himself was almost killed made him into a battle-hardened machine of brutality. Death? Torture? All he had to say was bring it on!

But what Cassie did...she was reading his memories, retrieving private and highly sensitive information without having to lift a blade. He barely said anything to her, yet she knew everything. It was as if he was stripped naked in front of her, with every single one of his secrets exposed to be seen at wish. He tried to resist, but all that did was delay Cassie by a few moments.

In the end, Cassie got what she wanted, which was everything Mr. Patricks knew.

“Ok...enough about the Reese Cartel. I’ve got what I need. Let’s find out more about you, Mr. Patricks. What are your crimes? What wicked things have you done? Let’s see...” Cassie grimaced a little behind her mask, partially because she was exhausted from all the memory reading. The man was a tough one, even with her being enhanced and him been worn down by fear and pain. Of course, Mr. Patricks didn't need to know that.

“Murder. Ok...another murder. Kidnapping and then murder. Torture. Plenty of torture. Even more torture. Extortion. Drug trafficking. A lot of drug trafficking. Another series of murders…”

In the end, Cassie put a hold on the reading and tossed Mr. Patricks on the ground again. She took a few steps back and tapped her forehead in frustration, only to find it protected by her helmet.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“How is someone like you not in jail already?” She asked in disbelief. The things she saw in his memories...they were enough to land the man a string of life sentences.

The man on the ground coughed. What Cassie did to him was essentially mind-rape, although it was completely justified in this case. Nonetheless, the man snickered at Cassie’s question, having recovered a little from the traumatizing experience.

“Didn't you see the answer for yourself already? We were careful with what we did and who we did that to, and we tipped off the right people.” He stared at Cassie with hatred in his eyes. “Plus, we always kept a low profile.”

“Killing cops? Sending decapitated heads to people as a warning? Way to keep a low profile.”

This caused the man to chuckle darkly. He spoke freely. After all, maintaining silence would only earn him another painful session of memory reading.

“Sure, we did all that, but in the end, we stayed within the poorer neighborhoods of the city. And the people we killed? The poor and the disposable. This means the city doesn’t care enough to devote too many resources to take us out. The CPD has better things to worry about and more important people and neighborhoods to protect. I heard they recently formed a task force against us and called in FBI and DEA support, probably because we went a bit too far with killing the cops...but we were able to hide our tracks well, and tipping the right people in the right positions made sure we would be given proper warning even if we missed something. And the news? Who cares about a random gang in a random corner of the city? No one wants to read about us, so no one wants to report about us. Simple as that.”

Cassie frowned. The man wasn’t wrong. People like officer Payton were everywhere, including in the police force. Why would they risk their lives going after a cartel that was only operating around the poor? Sure, the city paid them for a job, but even the paychecks from the city came from taxpayers, most of whom were wealthy.

Most people didn't want to go to work alive and come home in a casket. At least not to protect gangsters competing against the Reese Cartel or drug addicts who would gladly sell their souls to the cartel for another fix.

“You have operated with relative impunity,” Finally, Cassie declared quietly. “But that ends now.”

She raised her hand again, about to proceed with her plan when her eyes landed on Mr. Patricks. A dangerous thought suddenly flashed across her mind. The horrors she witnessed from the large man's memories returned to her.

The man before her was a monster. Killing was all he knew and all he cared about. People like him couldn’t be changed. They couldn’t be made to repent and strive to be better people. No...not at all.

Illinois hadn’t had a death sentence for almost a decade. If Mr. Patricks was charged successfully and found guilty, the most he could receive was a life sentence. People like him...they would prosper in prison. Incarceration would be like a vacation for someone of Mr. Patrick’s reputation and skills. Perhaps he would suffer in prison, but there was an even greater possibility he would end up rather comfortable.

That was the least he deserved. When she read his memories, she witnessed all the atrocities he had committed. The people he had tortured and killed. These images haunted her.

“You are an insult to the very concept of law and order.” Cassie suddenly found herself whispering as the dangerous idea took root in her mind. “You are a poison to our society. You don't deserve prison. You...you don’t even deserve to live.”

The other six people in the office, all still frozen in place, watched in horror as Mr. Patricks’s head started turning. At first, they didn't think much of it. Perhaps he was just looking at something on the side. That was until the man started screaming in fear. That was when they realized he wasn’t the one doing it. Cassie was.

She wanted to snap his neck.

Mr. Patricks’s head was already turned by almost 90 degrees, but Cassie wasn’t stopping. The man’s hands raced to his neck, but even they couldn’t stop Cassie’s telekinesis. As an incredibly painful and nasty death became closer, Mr. Patricks found himself panicking more than he thought he would. For a long time, he thought he could face death with a smile. That the last words he said would be insults hurled at his killers.

Instead, all his strength left him, and for the first time, the man found himself begging. When a brutal death came knocking on his door, he wasn't nearly as brave as he thought he would be.

“Please...please! I’m sorry, ok! I’m sorry! Don’t do this…spare me! I will turn myself in! I promise! I’ll confess!”

For a brief second, the man’s begging fell upon deaf ears. Cassie’s eyes were ice-cold as she stared at the soon-to-be-dead man. Her lips curled up in satisfaction. This man was a murderer and a crook. He deserved all the pain in the world. What she was doing to him...it wasn’t nearly as cruel as what he did to his victims.

Offering him mercy would be a slap to the face of all of his victims.

And then it struck her. Wait...what the hell was she doing here? She was going to turn these people in to the police and have them confess their crimes and hand over their evidence! When did she decide it would be a good idea to become the executioner! And she didn't just want to kill Mr. Patricks! She wanted to torture him before he died! She wanted his end to be slow and painful!

The man was broken and terrified, and somehow, she found it amusing!

What was wrong with her? Since when did she become this sadistic?

The young woman bit her lips and let go of Mr. Patricks, who collapsed onto his knees. He was saying something to her, likely thanking her for her mercy, but Cassie wasn’t paying attention.

Instead, she turned to the others in the office. The music was still blasting downstairs.

“Go shut down the party downstairs. Get all the clients out of here. After that, round up all the employees. I want to have a chat with them.”

The manager, the accountant, and the bodyguards all obeyed Cassie’s command. As they departed, Cassie made her way to one of the sofas and sat down. Slowly, she gazed down on her armor-covered hands, only to find them shaking.