The boy trembled, his body shaking as he stuttered, "W-who are you?" His voice was barely above a whisper, fear gripping him like iron chains.
Dametri tilted his head, as if the question itself was amusing. "Who am I?" He echoed, his voice laced with cold amusement. "Good question. Maybe I'm a CEO sipping wine in a glass tower. Maybe I'm a mafia king ruling over broken bodies on a mountain of corpses. Or maybe..." He took a slow step forward, the shadows stretching long behind him, "I'm the monster standing in front of you right now."
His icy gaze dropped to the bloodied girl beside him. Her body was still, her head dangling in his grasp by strands of her own hair. The severed flesh dripped red onto the ground, forming a slow, sickening pool beneath his boots.
The boy's breath hitched. "Y-you..." His voice cracked, his knees weakening.
"Oh? You're scared?" Dametri chuckled darkly. "Why? She looks just like before—just a little... misplaced." With that, he lifted the girl's head in front of the boy's horrified eyes, tilting it as if studying an art piece. "See? Same eyes, same lips. Only difference is... well, the body's over there."
The boy let out a strangled sob.
Dametri sneered. "Pathetic. You act tough, yet you tremble at the sight of a little separation?"
Then, without hesitation, he plunged the sword straight through the boy's chest.
A sharp gasp. The sound of steel slicing through flesh. The boy's wide eyes locked onto Dametri's, his body convulsing before collapsing like a marionette with cut strings. Blood seeped from the wound, painting the concrete beneath him.
Dametri yanked the blade free and flicked off the blood. "Clean this up," he muttered into his phone. "And don't forget the organs. Might as well make use of them." He let out a slow sigh. "Social media will explode if this gets out. A shame. People love scandals, but never the right ones."
Then, something on his phone caught his eye. A red dot blinking on the screen.
Yuzuha.
Her location traced to an abandoned warehouse.
Dametri smirked. "Now, what is she doing there at this hour?"
Warehouse of Shadows
Yuzuha stepped through the rusted doorway, her boots clicking softly against the concrete floor. The air inside was thick with dust and the scent of decay. Moonlight seeped through the cracked windows, casting eerie shadows on the broken machinery and forgotten car parts. The warehouse groaned under the weight of time.
She exhaled, a mist of breath in the cold night air. "No one's used this place for years..." she murmured.
Then, a sound.
Footsteps. Slow. Measured.
Yuzuha turned sharply.
A figure stood in the doorway, backlit by the pale glow of streetlights. The faint orange glow of a cigarette flared as the figure took a drag.
Then, a voice.
"Hello, my dear ex-best friend."
Aoi.
She stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a deliberate click.
Yuzuha's eyes narrowed, her fists tightening. "What are you doing here?"
Aoi chuckled, blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Isn't it obvious? I came to watch the downfall of a foolish little girl."
"Shut up, Aoi."
"Oh, Yuzuha, still so naive." Aoi took a slow step forward. "You fell in love with Kenzo, a filthy playboy who used you like a toy. You trusted me, a 'best friend' who never was. You believed in loyalty, but tell me—where did that get you?"
Yuzuha clenched her jaw. "I trusted you, Aoi. I treated you like my sister."
Aoi smirked, tilting her head mockingly. "And that's what makes you pathetic."
Something inside Yuzuha snapped.
With a fierce growl, she lunged.
Her fingers tangled in Aoi's hair, yanking her back violently. Aoi shrieked, clawing at Yuzuha's wrist, but Yuzuha's grip was relentless.
"You betrayed me!" Yuzuha's voice cracked with fury. "You're nothing but a snake!"
She swung Aoi, slamming her against a rusted metal beam. Aoi gasped in pain but retaliated, raking her nails across Yuzuha's cheek. Blood trickled down her skin, but Yuzuha didn't flinch.
Instead, she pulled out the knife she always carried.
The steel gleamed under the dim light.
Aoi's eyes widened. "Yuzuha, don't—"
Too late.
The blade plunged into her shoulder.
Aoi screamed, stumbling back, hands clutching the wound as red bloomed through her dress.
She turned, trying to run.
Her heel snapped.
She fell.
Yuzuha was on her in an instant, straddling her, her breaths ragged, her hands shaking. The darkness in her eyes was no longer just rage—it was something deeper. Something primal.
Aoi whimpered, "Yuzuha, please—"
The knife came down.
Again.
And again.
Each stab was a release. A cry of pain, betrayal, and everything she had bottled up for years.
Blood splattered against her face, her hands, the cold floor beneath them.
"DIE!" Yuzuha shrieked. "DIE, YOU LYING BITCH!"
By the time she stopped, Aoi's body was a lifeless husk, the warehouse floor soaked in crimson.
Yuzuha staggered back, the knife slipping from her fingers with a hollow clatter.
Her breath came in ragged gasps.
Then, silence.
The realization hit her like a bullet.
She had killed someone.
She had become... a murderer.
Her vision blurred. The world tilted. The weight of what she had done was crushing, suffocating.
She stumbled to a nearby sink, frantically scrubbing the blood from her hands, her face. But no matter how much she washed, the stain wouldn't leave.
She met her own gaze in the cracked mirror.
Was this really her?
She had always thought of herself as strong. But now? Now, she was something else entirely.
She turned away from the mirror, grabbing her coat, her hands still trembling. Without another glance at the corpse behind her, she staggered toward the exit.
The door creaked open.
The cold night air wrapped around her.
She took a shaky breath and stepped out into the silence.
Then—
A movement.
A dark figure slipped into the warehouse just as she left.
Silent.
Unseen.
Watching.
A shadow in the night.
And as Yuzuha disappeared into the streets, the figure stood over Aoi's mangled body, letting out a quiet chuckle.
"Interesting..."
Then, the screen of a phone flickered on, revealing the red blinking dot on a tracking app.
"Let's play, Yuzuha."