I Will Burn The World For You

THE DON IS DOWN

KETRA

My fingers tightened around the knife, rage burning hotter than fear. With a swift, merciless swing, the blade tore into his right eye. His scream pierced the air, raw and broken, as his body jerked beneath me. He clawed at me, desperate to shove me off, but I rose on my own, chest heaving, watching him stumble back until his spine hit the wall. His hand clutched his bleeding eye, blood spilling between his fingers.

“Stay away from me!” he shrieked, voice cracking with terror. “What did I ever do to you?”

I stepped toward him, each stride heavy with fury. My voice was cold, deliberate.

“Oh, you want to know? Let me remind you, the little girl you violated.”

Confusion twisted across his pain-stricken face. “Which… which girl?” he gasped, pressing harder against his ruined eye.

My stomach turned at his words. He didn’t even remember. The monster had done this so many times that faces blurred together for him. My rage sharpened into something lethal.

“You don’t even remember me,” I hissed. “Of course not, you’ve destroyed too many lives to keep count. But tonight, you pay for all of them.”

I lunged. He scrambled, snatching up a small vase from the table and hurling it at me. It shattered against the floor as I dodged, my blade flashing as I forced him back. My forearm pressed into his throat, pinning him to the wall.

“You’re old now… weak,” I sneered, my face inches from his. “But this sickness in you, this need to ruin young girls, it never aged. And for that…”

The knife sank deep into his chest. His scream gurgled as blood surged from the wound, staining his shirt dark. I ripped the blade free, my arms trembling, and sank onto a chair, breath ragged, watching as he slid down the wall. His fingers smeared blood across the plaster, his body collapsing, leaving him crawling in agony.

“Please… forgive me,” he rasped, voice trembling, eyes wide with fear. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

I let out a bitter laugh, sharp and cold.

“So you can beg.” My voice trembled with fury. “But I begged you that day. I begged for mercy. I cried until my throat burned… and you didn’t stop.”

I leaned forward, eyes narrowing, voice lowering to a deadly whisper.

“So don’t you dare expect me to.”

I tilted my head, my voice sharp as a blade.

“Do you even have children? Girls?”

His breathing was shallow, ragged, blood dripping from his wounds. He swallowed hard, trembling.

“Yes…” he whispered, voice broken. “I have two daughters.”

A bitter laugh escaped me, though my chest burned with fury.

“Then tell me, how would you feel if some man violated them? If they were torn apart at a young age, the way you did to me?”

His good eye widened, brimming with horror. His lips quivered as he choked out, “I… I would make him pay. I’d make him suffer for what my girls went through.”

I nodded slowly, my rage curling tighter, colder.

“Exactly. Thank you for being honest with me. Now do you understand? I’m here to make you pay. For every sleepless night I endured. For every nightmare that clawed me awake. For every tear I shed, begging for mercy you never gave. I’m going to make you feel it all, slowly, painfully.”

At that, he broke, his body shaking as tears streamed down his blood-stained face.

“Please,” he sobbed, reaching out weakly. “We can settle this… I’ll give you anything you want. Money, whatever it takes, just spare me.”

A cruel smirk twisted my lips.

“You see, that’s your kind’s disease. You think money can erase sins, buy silence, make the blood wash away. But I didn’t come here for your money.” My voice dropped, laced with venom. “I came for blood. And I won’t leave until I take it in full.”

I stood, pulling open my purse with deliberate calm. From inside, I slipped out the cold, gleaming brass knuckles and slid them onto my fingers. The metallic weight grounded me, fueled me.

His gaze locked on them, dread spreading across his ruined face. He collapsed to his knees, clutching at the air.

“No, please, please, I beg you,” he cried, desperation cracking his words.

I only smiled coldly.

“Get on your feet.”

He shook his head, still pleading, but I repeated, firmer this time, “Stand up.”

Shaking, he obeyed, rising on unsteady legs, his hands trembling as if that could stop the inevitable.

I softened my tone, mockingly calm. “Breathe. Relax. That’s it.” He inhaled shakily, trying to steady himself.

And then, without warning, I lunged. My hand clamped around his throat, squeezing tight. His hands shot to mine, clawing, pulling, desperate to pry me off, but my grip only tightened. I slammed him back against the wall, his breath rasping against my knuckles.

“Now you know,” I hissed, leaning close, “what it feels like to be cornered. To be powerless.”

Before he could respond, my fist, loaded with metal, crashed into his face. The sound was sickening, bone cracking under the first blow. Then another. And another. My rage poured out with each strike, the brass knuckles splitting skin, shattering flesh, blood gushing down his face in rivers. His eye swelled shut, his screams muffled by my blows as I gave him no room to breathe, no pause to gather strength.

By the time I released him, his body was barely holding itself upright. I let go, and he collapsed to the floor, a broken heap, groaning, grunting, his breaths shallow and jagged. Blood soaked the floor beneath him, painting the room in the color of justice.

I sat at the edge of the bed, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, my pulse pounding in my ears. My voice dropped low, almost calm, though the storm in me raged on.

“Don’t worry… I’m almost done with you.”

His lips quivered, his voice faint, broken. “P-please…”

I tilted my head, staring down at him like prey cornered by its hunter.

“That c**k of yours,” I whispered coldly, “I’m going to cut it off. That way, you’ll never hurt another girl again.”

His body jolted with a burst of desperation, struggling to sit upright. “Please… please, don’t…”

I sneered, shaking my head.

“Save your breath, old man. If you hold still, I’ll make it quick, a single, clean slice. No more, no less. You’ll be… good as new.”

I crouched beside him, my shadow falling over his trembling body. His hands shook weakly as I tugged down his blood-stained trousers. And there it was—the very weapon he used to ruin me. My chest heaved, fury coursing hot and sharp through my veins.

Without hesitation, I raised the blade.

One clean, merciless swing.

His scream tore through the room, deafening, raw agony spilling out of him as blood gushed violently from the wound. He clutched himself, writhing, his eyes rolling back in disbelief and horror.

But I wasn’t finished. My rage demanded more. I raised the knife again, plunging it into his chest, once, twice, again and again, the blade ripping through flesh and bone. Blood splattered across my arms, my face, the sheets, painting the room with the truth of what he had done to me.

I lifted my arm for another strike when— knock knock.

The sound froze me in place. My chest tightened. The knife hovered midair.

“Don?” a voice called softly from the other side of the door. “Sorry to disturb you, but it’s time to raise a toast. Everyone’s waiting.”

Shit.

I tapped my earpiece quickly, whispering, “Ruby… there’s a situation. Handle it.”

“On it,” came her calm reply.

I scrambled to my feet, silent as a shadow, darting into the bathroom. The mirror reflected a stranger back at me, splattered in blood, eyes blazing with fury. My hands shook as I washed the knife, the brass knuckles, and myself under the rushing water, scrubbing furiously at the stains on my dress. The blood wouldn’t come out completely, but it would have to do.

By the time I stepped back into the bedroom, the knocking had stopped. Relief flickered, Ruby must have handled it. I grabbed my mask from the bed, sliding it over my face, concealing the monster I’d just unleashed. The knuckles went back into my purse, the knife strapped securely to my thigh. I inhaled deeply, steadying my breath, and opened the door.

But waiting outside was chaos.

A man slumped against the wall, his shirt drenched in blood. My head snapped up at the sound of a scuffle, just in time to see Ruby slam another man to the ground. She pinned him effortlessly, smiling through the madness.

“Hi,” she said lightly.

“You’d better take care of that,” I snapped.

“Oh, he’s no—” she began, but the man roared into his intercom before she could finish.

“I need backup! The Don is down!”

Ruby’s face shifted. My glare was sharp as a knife. She twisted his neck in a clean motion, the crack echoing down the hallway.

“I thought he wasn’t a threat,” she muttered, rising to her feet.

“Of course he was,” I hissed, already moving. “They all are.”

We sprinted down the corridor, footsteps echoing. But then Ruby stopped, her gaze cutting back.

“Go. I need to find Mandy first.”

“Be safe,” I told her, before breaking away, heading for the back exit.

But I didn’t get far.

Halfway down the grand hallway, seven of the Don’s men closed in, their shadows stretching across the floor. I steadied myself, ready to fight, when one of them pulled out a canister and hurled it to the ground. A hiss filled the air, and within seconds, the hallway was drowning in thick, choking gas.

I yanked out an handkerchief and shoved it onto my nose, but it wasn’t enough, the fog spread too quickly. My vision blurred, the silhouettes of the men twisting into shadows. I staggered, struggling to keep my balance.

A hand yanked me back hard. My instincts flared, I spun, fist raised, ready to strike—

But it wasn’t an enemy.

It was him. The handsome stranger I had crossed paths with before. His eyes burned with urgency.

“Come with me,” he said firmly.

Suspicion surged up. “Why should I trust you?”

“Because if you want to get out of here alive,” he shot back, “you don’t have a choice.”

My lungs screamed against the gas, my limbs heavy. I didn’t waste another second.

Without a word, I followed him into the smoke.