Episode 19: The Cycle of Retribution
As Elira broke the last spell, she felt a strong jolt.
It felt like someone had hammered her brain. Darkness began to appear before her eyes, her steps staggered, and she began to fall towards the ground.
Before she could hit the floor, a strong arm caught her. Hyun-jin had caught her. Albert, who was still coming out of the spell, quickly ran towards Elira. There was concern in his eyes.
"There's nothing to worry about," Master Solomon said calmly, "She's overused her power, she just needs to rest."
Hyun-jin immediately picked Elira up in his arms and carried her into the room and laid her on the bed. There was exhaustion on Elira's face, but there was also a sense of satisfaction that she had saved her father.
A silence filled the room. Albert, who now seemed more conscious than ever, began to look at the boy standing next to his daughter with a searching look. There were questions in his eyes, a deep uneasiness that only experienced people can recognize.
Albert's voice echoed, "Who are you? Why did you help my daughter? How are you connected to her?"
Hyun-jin took a deep breath. He slowly removed the mask covering his face. There was a regal dignity on his face. He looked straight into Albert's eyes and said:
"My name is Hyun-jin, but my true identity is to be the son of Prince Gabriel."
Albert was stunned. :
The silence in the room was broken by Hyun-jin's muffled voice. Albert was still trying to digest that the boy standing in front of him was Prince Gabriel's son.
Hyeon-jin began to tell his story:
"Albert, you may have forgotten, but the night Prince Adrian rebelled, it wasn't just my father (Prince Gabriel) who was in danger, but I was also an innocent child. Elira's mother was pregnant at the time, but she didn't care about her life."
He took a deep breath and said:
"That battle was very bloody. When Prince Adrian's henchmen attacked us, Elira's mother came forward and protected us as a shield. She helped get Prince Gabriel to safety, but on the way, Papa's fellow traitors killed her, and Auntie took the blow she inflicted on me. During that time, she received the fatal injury that later led to her death."
Hyun-jin's eyes moistened. "She gave her life at that time to prepare Elira for a future she never imagined. She didn't save me because I was a prince, but because she was against oppression."
Albert's hands began to tremble. That last moment of his wife flashed before his eyes. He now understood why and how Elira's mother had died. It was no accident, it was a great sacrifice.
Elira, who lay half-conscious on the bed, a strange peace came over her face. As if her soul had found the answer it had been searching for for so long.
Albert placed his hand on Hyun-jin's shoulder, his eyes no longer filled with anger but with a new determination. "For years, I considered my daughter a stranger because I thought she had killed her mother… but the truth was that her mother had sacrificed her life to bring her into the world."
Hyun-jin nodded. "Now Elira is not alone. You and I, together we will complete her mission and punish Prince Adrian for what he did."
In the prison's suffocating atmosphere, Rafael's life was now a terrifying wait. A week had passed, but that week seemed like a century. There were dark circles under his eyes and a constant fear on his face.
The prison inmates, who knew everything about Rafael's previous life, never treated him like ordinary prisoners. They considered him not a "hunter", but a "soft prey".
Those terrifying moments: Whenever Rafael would crouch in the corner of his cell, two or three ferocious prisoners would approach him. They would pin him against the wall. They would not hit him, but would play with him the same "disgusting game" that Rafael had once played with his female victims.
Their touch felt like an electric current to him. They would touch him in a harassing manner, pull at his clothes, and repeat in his ears the same things that Rafael had once said to his victimized girls. When they touched his private parts, Rafael's body would tremble. He would close his eyes, but the touch would overwhelm his senses. He wanted to scream in disgust and disgust, but their threats would strangle him.
He went to the prison officer several times and complained, "Sir! These people will not let me live! For God's sake, change my cell!" The officer closed the file on his table, looked at him with a look as if he were a worm, and said coldly, "Rafael, you are prisoner number here, not a VIP. And anyway, you were an expert at throwing away the honor of others, today the same game is being played with you, so why are you crying? Keep your complaints to yourself, no one here will listen to you."
The painful scene of meeting Roan: When Roan came to meet him, he trembled when he saw Rafael. Rafael's clothes were torn, his eyes were red, and his presence reeked of defeat.
In the prison's meeting room (Mulaqat-gah), the cold, strong glass stood between Rafael and Rawan. Rafael rested his hands on the glass with trembling hands, his eyes wide with fear. On the other side stood Rawan, his face pale.
Rawan could not get out. The media was always present outside his house. As soon as he opened the door, the flashes of cameras would blind him. People were gathering outside his house to protest, shouting slogans at him and calling him "the father of the murderer." Wherever he went, the media followed him; he felt as if he had been imprisoned in his own home.
Rafael put the phone receiver to his ear, his voice trembling. "Father... did you hear? Those people don't even let me sleep at night... they do the same thing to me that I did to those girls. Father, my honor... my life... is all gone. Get me out of here, please!"
Ruan looked at him from the other side of the glass. He couldn't even touch his son. He put his hand on the glass helplessly and said, "Son, what should I do? If I come out, the media and the public won't let me live. Wherever I go, people throw stones at me. My home, my privacy, everything has been taken away. I have become a prisoner myself."
Rafael's screams echoed inside the glass. "So should I die here? Is there no one to listen to my complaints? You have no idea what these beasts do to me every day! My private parts... the way they touch me, why don't I die?"
Tears started flowing from Ruan's eyes. "I spoke to lawyers, I spent huge sums of money, but the pressure from the affected families is so great that no judge is willing to hear a bail application. The media is standing outside my house every day, covering my destruction live. Rafael, I have no status anymore. I have become a criminal in the eyes of those who used to bow down to me until yesterday."
Rafael slammed the phone receiver hard against the glass. "I don't care what your status is! Get me out of here! These people won't leave me human, they will tear me to pieces!"
Ruan's heart began to sink. He stood helplessly in front of the glass wall, from where he could only watch the spectacle of his destruction instead of supporting his son. The prison guard came and pulled Rafael hard towards the cell. Rafael kept hitting the glass, screaming, but Ruan couldn't even move, because the media cameras were waiting for him outside, to humiliate him further.
As per the prison's routine, Sarina was assigned to cleaning duties. A constable came and pretended to take her to another block. Sarina didn't suspect a thing, she walked quietly. But as soon as they passed through a deserted corridor, she was taken to the office of the highest official in the prison.
The officer made a gesture and the guards moved away. He took her behind a curtain, where a secret door opened. As soon as Sarina entered the room, her soul trembled. It was not a room, but a hell with bottles of alcohol, smoke and the faces of a few powerful men. Among them were politicians, party leaders and the father of the prison in-charge, who trampled the law underfoot on the basis of their wealth and influence.
Sarina turned around and tried to run, but the exit was blocked. A strong hand grabbed her by the hair and pulled her into the middle.
The savage man came closer to her, his eyes filled with lust and revenge. Sarina's screams echoed off the thick walls of the room. These beasts made her a toy. She was brutally attacked, and in the meantime, one of them recorded the entire scene on his phone.
Sarina was more concerned with the mental anguish that reminded her of those innocent girls than her own pain. She remembered how she used to laugh at seeing those girls in those situations, how she used to ignore their screams. Today, those screams were coming out of her own throat.
All the girls she had ruined started to play in her mind. Today, she herself stood in their place. She was writhing, crying, but her voice had no way out of these prison walls. The powerful men in this room were using her as a "cheap victim" more than a criminal.
When it was all over, she was thrown back into the prison cell in the same state. She lay trembling on the floor, her being shattered. She now realized how terrible and merciless the reckoning of nature can be.
Some time after that terrible event was over, when Sarina was lying in her cell in a semi-conscious state, the priest came to the cell. Sarina began to tremble at the sight of him because she had seen him in that secret room just a short while ago.
The priest looked at her from behind the bars, his face had the same devilish smile on it as the faces of those beasts. He said softly, "How did you like that 'meeting'? I had made arrangements especially for you."
Sarina's soul trembled. The person she considered a source of spiritual comfort was the leader of those beasts and an important part of their ferocity.
The priest came close to Sarina's face and whispered, "What did you think, you are free here in prison? You are my property. I can call you there whenever I want, I can target you whenever I want."
Sarina looked at him with hatred and tried to spit, "You are not human, you are a curse! A devil disguised as a priest!"
The priest laughed and laughed. "The devil speaks the truth, daughter. You did not need to take revenge on the girls you ruined, but your fate is even worse. Now you are a prisoner of my will. If you try to make the slightest noise, that video will be in the hands of the entire city's media."
Sarina's life behind bars was no longer life, but a daily game of death with no end. That prison priest, who apparently showed people the way to salvation, was actually the biggest devil in this hell.
Every night, at a certain time, that part of the prison would be transformed into a "live studio." Sarina would be forcibly brought into a room where the brutal officers and the priest were already present. The cameras there would be live streaming to the Dark Web.
Those horrible moments:
They would treat her the same way she had once treated others for her own ego. But the difference was that today she was not the master of her own will. The priest, who called her holy, would harass her most brutally. Her screams, her cries, everything would be captured on camera. Anonymous viewers on the dark web would applaud her destruction, send her gifts and even tell her what "cruelty" should be done to her next time.
"There should be more fear on her face today!"
"Humiliate her more!"
"Look how she is suffering!"
These words from the comments would hit Sarina's ears like hammers. The priest would come closer to her, grab her hair in his fist, face her in front of the camera and say, "Look, the end of a queen! Today she is both naked and helpless in front of everyone."
They would put her through the same torture every day. They would never let her drink water, sometimes starve her, and then when she was weak, they would brutally attack her. They would "treat" her in different ways for their videos. Sarina's body was now blue, her soul had wounds that would never heal.
Every moment, she would remember the girls she had once considered her rivals. She would realize how much she had ruined their lives. Now she herself had become a permanent character in a video that was auctioned off daily in the darkness of the Internet. For her, every passing moment was more painful than death, but death was not even touching her. She died every day, and every day she lived and experienced the same hell again.
That night, the cameras were on for the dark web. The priest and his colleagues, the highest officials in the prison, were watching the spectacle of Sarina the drunk thief. But today, Sarina's eyes did not have the fear that had been in her eyes for the past several nights. Today, there was a horror in her eyes that was more dangerous than death.
As the priest moved closer to bring her closer, Sarina, using one of her broken bones and the sharp shard of a broken wine bottle, stabbed him in the neck with all her might. A fountain of blood fell onto the priest's white robe. The priest fell to the ground, choking, Sarina mounted him and drove the shard of the bottle into his chest and neck repeatedly, until his body became lifeless.
The other three officers were terrified. Sarina was no longer a human being, but a beast. She rushed towards them, laughing like a madman.
The first officer, who had inflicted the most physical pain on her, was slammed against the wall by Sarina. When he staggered, Sarina stabbed the shard of the bottle into his eyes. He fell to the ground, clutching his eyes and screaming. Sarina lifted his head and slammed it on the floor several times, until his skull cracked. She, ignoring his screams, held his throat with her hands until he stopped breathing.
The second officer was trying to pull out his gun, but Sarina rushed forward and twisted his hand. She snatched the gun and shot him there and then. But she did not stop; she lowered the bottle into his stomach and watched him writhe in agony between his own intestines. She went to his ear and laughed softly, "Do you remember what you did? Feel it now!"
The third officer, who was in charge of the prison, cowered in a corner in fear. Sarina grabbed him by the hair and pulled him onto the table. She smashed the wine bottle on the table against his head. He fell down bleeding, and Sarina climbed onto his chest and lowered the bottle shard into his heart as if she were performing a ritual of revenge. She kept hitting him again and again, her hand stained with blood, and she kept repeating the same sentence, "You will never be forgiven... ever."
The only sounds in the room were the sounds of sobs, the dripping of blood, and Sarina's insane laughter.
When they were all lifeless, Sarina had only one option left. She wiped her blood on her face with her fingers, looking at herself with a savage smile. She knew that the guards were coming outside. She saw the bodies for the last time, the ones she had shown the way to hell with her hands.
She buried the bottle shard in her own stomach, and then took a deep breath and pulled it inside her. The last breath of her life was coming out with the blood. She fell down beside the pile of bodies, her eyes wide open towards the ceiling, and a triumphant but insane smile on her lips. Nature has taken revenge on me for all of you. At last, the revenge was complete.
There was only one light bulb in the room, its dim light falling on Ark's face. He was sitting on the floor, in front of him was a small picture of Mia, which he was repeatedly cleaning with his dust-stained hands.
Mr. Han was silently standing in the corner of the room, watching all this. This scene was not new to him, but today there was a strange bitterness in it.
Ark suddenly hugged the picture to his chest and let out a scream that echoed throughout the room. "Han! Do you remember her laugh? How she used to hug me when she came home from school? She was just a little girl... What did she do to those people?"
Mr. Han's steps were shaky. He wanted to reach out and grab Ark's shoulder, but his hands also stopped. "I know, Ark. I have seen with my own eyes everything that Aiden and his followers have done."
Ark raised his head, his eyes filled with pain. "What do you know about the pain of a father? You only saw it as a mission. My wife died, my house was destroyed, my job was taken away! Today, Sarina and Rafael died, but why am I not satisfied? Is this what my daughter has received justice?"
Mr. Han sat down and looked into Ark's eyes and said, "I have also lost a part of my soul, Ark. Sarina and Rafael were just pawns, they were sparks of the fire that Eden lit. My satisfaction will only be when I cut the throat of this 'beast' with my own hands."
Ark fell silent. His tears were making lines on his cheeks. He placed his hand on Mr. Han's. "When I heard the news of Sarina's death tonight, I felt like I was attending someone's funeral. I thought Mia's soul would now be at peace. But she is still thirsty. Only Aiden's blood can quench her."
Mr. Han nodded. "She is thirsty, and we will quench her thirst. I have made my life's purpose one and only, Ark. Aiden's destruction. Han Jin and I, we are watching her every step. You are not alone. We are both equal partners in this revenge."
Ark took a deep breath and kissed Mia's portrait. "Until yesterday, I was a broken person. But today... today I feel like that father inside me is dead, and now there is only one avenger left."
Mr. Han hugged her tightly. In the silence of the room, a silent pact of revenge had been struck between the two of them. A pact that was founded on Mia's blood.
As soon as the news of Rafael's suicide from prison reached home, Luna was devastated. She had already gone mad from the shock of losing her son. As soon as she heard that her only son was no longer in this world, her heart stopped. She suffered a massive heart attack and died in Ruan's arms.
In a single day, Ruan's world had completely disappeared. On one side was his life partner's dead body and on the other was the news of his son's death.
The agony of loneliness:
Ruan was walking around the house like a madman. He screamed, banged his head on the walls, and sometimes sat next to Luna's body and shook it. He was unable to overcome this grief. He organized the last rites of his son and wife himself.
But the most painful thing was that no one came to the funeral. The same people who had lined up outside Rowan's school yesterday were now shying away from him. The media, the public, and former relatives—all were running away from him. They didn't come to him for fear of the notoriety and ruin that was associated with the crimes of Aiden and Rafael.
Adrian's indifference:
The biggest blow came when Rowan sent a message to Prince Adrian. He had hoped that Eden would attend his cousin's funeral, at least for the death of his sister. But Adrian's response was silence.
Adrien, who sat on the throne of his ego, did not shed a single tear over the death of his sister and nephew. For him, it was just a 'political loss' that he wanted to hide. He did not come to the funeral because he was afraid that his name would be associated with this 'infamous family'.
Rowan stood alone in the cemetery and looked. Two graves were carved in front of him.
"Is this what we got?" Rowan was crying while laughing. "The one we kept dying for, left us like an orphan?"
There was no priest, no friend, no admirer. Only Rowan, who was buried in the dirt, burying his own family with his broken hands. There were no tears in his eyes anymore, but a terrible hatred.
He now understood that the prince (Adrian) he used to worship was actually a beast who had no compassion for anyone except his prey. He was not the same person who had left the cemetery after burying his wife and son under the ground. He was now a man with nothing left to lose, and that is why he was no longer afraid of anyone.
The screams coming from the basement of Albert's house had become a regular occurrence. Neelam, whose magic spell had been broken, was now like a broken toy. His mind had turned upside down. She would bang against the basement walls, scratch her hair, and mutter like a madwoman, "What did I do? What is happening?" Albert had locked her in the basement, away from everyone's eyes, so that her condition would not cause embarrassment or danger to anyone else.
Upstairs, in the drawing room, Albert was sitting with a 50-year-old nobleman. The man, whose face was full of lust and cruelty, was talking about his next wife—Alicia.
Albert looked at Alicia, who was sitting in a corner, cowering. There were tears on her face, but the pride inside her was dead.
"This is the illegitimate child of Adrian's driver," Albert pointed at Alicia with the utmost contempt, as if she were a useless object. "You can take her away. She has no place in my house."
Alicia tried to hold Albert's feet, crying, "Daddy, don't do this! I am your daughter, please!"
Albert kicked her away. "You are not my daughter! You are just a sign of deception. I only kept you so that you could be useful to Elira, but you yourself were ruined by your own tricks."
The nobleman stepped forward and he put his hand in Alicia's hair and pulled her up. Alicia's screams mingled with the screams of Neelum in the basement. The atmosphere of the house had now become a hell. Albert, avenging his daughter's injustice, .
He handed Alicia over to the beast, and Alicia was going to have to live the life she once imagined for Elira.
he Sick Mind of a Predator
The lights in Aiden's private room were completely out, except for the blue light of the large screen that was shining on the images of Elira. Aiden was lying face down on the couch, his entire being immersed in lust and a dark desire that he was ashamed to even name.
His eyes were red, as if he had seen neither sleep nor humanity for many nights. On the screen was a picture of Elira where she was drenched in sweat during her training, her clothes stuck to her body. Aiden began to make brutal marks with his fingers on the imprints of Elira's body on the screen.
"Elira..." He laughed in a disgusting and disgusting voice. "This power of yours... this body of yours... do you know what happens to you in my dreams?"
He couldn't control himself. He had no respect or passion for Elira in his mind, but rather an animalistic thirst that could only be quenched by physical torture and humiliation. He unbuttoned his shirt, getting so close to the screen that his hot, foul-smelling breath fogged the glass.
He did something that would be intolerable in any civilized society. He was trying to satisfy himself by expressing his filthy desires in front of Elira's image. His actions were worse than those of an animal—no morality, no shame, just a brutality that would make anyone sick.
"You think you're pure?" Aiden muttered, his voice laced with venom that would destroy anyone. "When you are under me, all this power of yours, all this pride, will all be turned to dust. I will break you every time... I will humiliate you so much that you will beg me yourself."
He was trying to squeeze the image of Elira on the screen in his fist, as if he were strangling her. There was such a terrible combination of lust and hatred on his face that proved him to be a complete demon. His actions, his words, and his obsessive manner—all testified to the fact that he did not want to find Elira, but to bind her in a torture from which it was impossible to escape.
He was pacing the room, smashing Elira's pictures on the walls, his attitude as if he already considered her his property. This was not just an obsession, it was such a vile and disgusting thought that would force any human being to hate Aiden intensely.
— The Grave of Deception
Zaryon was hiding in a desolate place, his body still trembling from the pain that Elira's magical attack had inflicted on him. His inner strength was ebbing away, and blood and black fluid were spewing from his mouth. He was rotting from the inside, and this rotting had left only one path in his mind: "Dark Magic."
He arrived at Elira's mother's grave in the darkness of the night. His goal was to use the sacred power of Elira's family to fuel his dark magic. Little did he know that Albert, under his own intrigues, had already moved Elira's mother's body to a safe and secret place. In its place, Albert had buried the body of Neelum's mother—Zaryon's own wife—there.
Zaryon, blinded by his weakness and anger, knelt before the grave. He began to draw black lines on the ground and cut the veins in his hand, causing them to bleed.
"Today... today will be the end of the power that showed me this day!" Zaryon screamed, his voice echoing like an animal in the stillness of the night.
He began to cast a black spell. The air above the grave became heavy. The ground began to shake, and the stench of cemetery dirt and dead bodies filled the air. Zaryon brushed the dirt from his hands, his mind only yearning to suck up the power of Elira's mother.
He had no idea what he was doing. As he cast the final spell of the spell, a cold, dead energy emerged from within the grave. He pulled the body out of the grave. As the body's veil was removed, Zaryon's eyes widened.
This was not Elira's mother. This was the mutilated corpse of his own wife—Neelum's mother—whose face he had tortured himself years before.
Zaryon's throat went dry. Darkness began to gather before his eyes. He stood still before the corpse. The black waves of magic were now attacking him again as he tormented the soul of his own wife.
"This... what happened?" He staggered back, unconscious. But the black magic was not going to stop. The dead soul, imprisoned there by Albert's cunning, was now beginning to permeate Zaryon's being.
Zaryon was no longer fighting against any Elira, but was going mad under the weight of his own sins.
This twist brings the story to a terrifying and diabolical level. Zaryon's wounding by his wife's spirit, Neelum's death, and its effect on Alicia—all of which make Albert and Aiden's game even more heinous.
— The Pact with Darkness
That scene in the cemetery was apocalyptic. As Zaryon cast his black magic, his imprisoned wife's spirit was freed, but it burned with the fire of revenge rather than love. He stabbed Zaryon in a way that left her severely wounded. The spirit broke free and went straight to Neelum—Neelum, already insane, trapped in the basement, fell to the ground and died in agony as soon as the spirit touched her. The magical effect also took hold of Alicia, who was now in a state of psychological torment where she could see shadows everywhere.
Zaryon, bleeding and broken, escaped to Prince Adrian's palace.
Palace scene: Behind the high walls of the palace, Adrian stood with his glass of wine. When he saw Zaryon's miserable condition, hatred flashed across his face.
"Get out of here!" Adrian's voice was cold. "You are a failed pawn. You have only ruined my plan."
Zaryon fell to his knees, black blood flowing from his wounds. He grabbed Adrian's skirt. "I know only one way to defeat Elira, Prince Adrian! And I know that way. If you help me, I will give you the power to make Elira your slave."
Adrian's eyes lit up. The obsession to have Elira was already growing inside him like a cancer. He thought for a moment, then nodded with a devilish smile.
"What do you want?"
There was horror in Zaryon's eyes. "I need your son, Aiden. We will form an alliance to obtain Elira that would shake even the gods."
Zaryon stood in the darkest corner of the palace and decided to sell his very existence. He sold his soul to the 'devil'—a deal that was worth nothing but blood and destruction.
"Aiden!" Adrien cried.
Aiden, who had been lost in his sick lust before the images of Elira, came out. When he heard that a demonic alliance was about to be formed to obtain Elira, a smile appeared on his face that was enough to strike fear into any noble man.
"You will bring me Elira?" Aiden asked, stroking Zaryon's wounds.
"I will bring you not only Elira, but her entire power and existence at your feet," Zaryon said in his final words.
A black smoke rose from his body and he collapsed to the ground. He was no longer Zaryon, but a demonic creature, ready to hunt Elira with Aiden and Adrian.