บท 214: Chapter 214
Just as Reginald was about to claim his ultimate prize, a soft knock echoed through the room, disturbing him. He ignored it, roughly pushing little Monet onto the bed. The knock grew heavier and more insistent, making his anger boil over.
"You bastards! Don't you know I'm busy? If I come out there, I'll have your heads!" he roared. Before he could finish his threat, the ornate door was blasted open, and several figures leisurely walked into the room.
"Fufufufu! Have our heads? It seems like you're fond of heads. It's a good thing I brought this along then," Doflamingo chuckled, tossing the severed head of the leader who had brought Monet and her sister from their father.
Reginald froze in shock, his face paling as he took in the intruders. "Bastard! Who the hell are you?" he roared, disregarding the rolling head on the floor. "Guards! Guards!" he bellowed, but no one answered his call.
Senor strode into the room, dragging the maid by her hair. She was bleeding, her once pristine face now grotesque and unsightly. One of her arms was severed, blood dripping onto the lavish carpet. Senor Pink tossed her like a ragdoll, her body landing with a sickening thud.
The opulent bedroom, with its rich tapestries and intricate woodwork, was now a scene of chaos and terror. The chandelier cast a flickering, eerie light on the unfolding nightmare. Doflamingo's men spread out, their presence dominating the room, their expressions cold and menacing.
Reginald's eyes darted around frantically, searching for any means of escape. "Who... who are you people?" he stammered, his voice quivering with fear.
Monet, lying on the bed, watched in a mix of fear and confusion. She had been ready to sacrifice herself to save her sister, but now, new players had entered the game. She didn't know whether to feel hope or dread.
Reginald's bravado crumbled. "Please, please, I can pay you. I have money, connections. Just let me go," he pleaded, his earlier arrogance replaced by desperation.
Doflamingo laughed, a sound devoid of any warmth. "Fufufufu !! Money? Connections? You think we care about such things?" He gestured to the head on the floor. "Your connections brought you to this moment. Now, you'll face the consequences for messing with what's mine."
Senor stepped forward, clutching the maid's head again, his grip on the maid's hair tightening as he spoke. "This piece of trash convinced you that little girls could be manipulated and used. Don't worry! She will soon share your fate."
Reginald's eyes widened in horror as he realized there was no escape. The realization that his power and wealth meant nothing to these men dawned on him with crushing clarity.
Doflamingo turned his attention to Monet, his eyes narrowing as he took in her fragile form. "And you, little one, is your name Monet?" He asked, his tone softening just a fraction. "You've been through hell, haven't you?"
Monet nodded, tears streaming down her face. She could barely comprehend what was happening, but she sensed a shift in her fate.
"Fufufufu! I thought I was evil and scum, but you guys sure make me pale in comparison. You even make me feel sick," Doflamingo chuckled, his laughter cold and merciless. He waved a tendril of flame, searing the skin of the maid who writhed on the floor, her screams mingling with the crackling fire.
Doflamingo's gaze shifted to Senor, his white suit untouched by the carnage that had unfolded within the estate. "Maybe I would have also ended up like these scum if not for my little brother," Doflamingo mused aloud.
"Tell me, Senor, would you and the rest of the family have followed me if I had become such scum?"
Senor considered the question thoughtfully before responding. "Yes, Master! We would have. But I'm not sure we would have the same level of loyalty and respect. At least, that's my opinion." He spoke with brutal honesty, his eyes unwavering.
Little Reiju, standing behind Doflamingo, tugged at his sleeves. Doflamingo, understanding her intent, gave a nod. Reiju stepped past him into the blood-soaked room. The gore and the maid's agonized cries did not faze her; she had seen much worse, and, in her view, the maid deserved every bit of the torment she was enduring.
Reginald, trembling with fear, had already soiled himself. Reiju, with her face etched with disgust, faced the bulky man. Before he could react, she delivered a bone-crushing kick to his groin. The sickening crunch of his shattered jewels echoed through the room, and Reginald collapsed to the floor, howling in excruciating pain.
Despite her young age, Reiju's body had been subjected to countless modifications through experiments, giving her a physique that was both formidable and terrifying. She walked over to the bed, pulling back the sheets to help Monet cover herself. Gently, she helped Monet out of bed.
Monet's eyes were filled with tears as she clung to Reiju. "My sister... my sister, did you find her? He took her." Monet pointed to the severed head on the floor.
"Don't worry, kid. Your little sister is safe," Senor assured her, his voice softening with genuine compassion. "It's time to leave this hellhole behind."
As Senor spoke, he used a string to slice through the pinky of the plump noble, making him squeal in agony. Doflamingo's smile remained, though his eyes were cold and steely. "I want to hear them scream, Senor! Don't make it easy for them. Remember how many little girls have suffered at their hands? I want them to experience true hell before they perish. Can you do that, my friend?"
"With pleasure, Master Doffy!" Senor responded with a fervor that matched Doflamingo's own. The rest of the men exited the room, leaving behind only Senor and the other two figures. As the door closed, the estate was soon filled with the blood-curdling screams of the condemned.
Monet followed the group without question, her heart heavy, but her hope rekindled. If these new figures could be her and her sister's saviors, then she would dedicate her life to them. The cruelty she had witnessed was monstrous, but there was something about the way Reiju interacted with Senor and Doflamingo that suggested they were not the same kind of predators as Reginald.
Standing before Monet, Doflamingo's expression softened slightly, though his gaze remained sharp and calculating. "I will give you a choice, little one…." he said, his tone carrying both promise and weight.
Monet's heart raced, her future uncertain but her resolve firm. The promise of salvation and safety for her sister was within reach, and she was prepared to make whatever choice was necessary to secure it.
****
Doflamingo had kept his promise. Little Sugar was safe, tucked away in a cabin room that was a far cry from the horrors Monet had endured. Before they could leave, Monet had demanded one final act of vengeance from her new master, which he had obligingly granted. She wanted to confront her father and deliver justice with her own hands.
The sun was setting as Monet approached the shabby house that had been her prison. The air was thick with the stench of decay and neglect, a bitter reminder of the life she had endured. Her heart pounded with a mix of fear and exhilaration.
She had witnessed the suffering her father had inflicted on her mother, herself, and even her newborn sister. The rage that simmered within her demanded retribution.
The house was silent as she entered, the metal walls stained with the grime of years. Her father's loud, drunken snores echoed from the back room, where he lay sprawled on a tattered mattress.
The door creaked open, revealing a sight that twisted Monet's gut—her mother's lifeless body, her belly grotesquely cut open, blood seeping into the filthy sheets. The reality of the cruelty inflicted upon her family crashed down on her, but Monet steeled herself.
Despite the chaos raging within her, Monet's breath was steady. Her grip on the knife was firm and resolute. She approached the threshold of the tattered mattress, her gaze fixed on the bloated figure of her father. His state of degradation made her stomach churn, but she forced herself to step inside.
The man stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open as he sensed a presence. His gaze, blurry from alcohol and exhaustion, locked onto Monet. His expression twisted into a mix of confusion and fear.
"Wha… What are you doing here, little bitch?" He slurred, attempting to push himself upright. His voice was thick with the remnants of his last drunken binge, but the fear in his eyes was unmistakable.
Monet said nothing. She stood with a dead stare, her eyes cold and unyielding. She raised the knife high, its blade reflecting the dim light filtering through the grimy window. With a swift, vengeful motion, she brought it down, plunging it into his gut.
The blade cut through flesh and fat with a sickening squelch, and the man's cry of pain was abruptly cut off by the shock of the sudden attack.
"Aaaargh!!!!" The scream pierced the air, reverberating through the shabby home. In the squalid slum, however, no one would bother to investigate the source of the scream.
His body convulsed in agony as Monet twisted the knife, each movement driven by a cold, relentless fury. Her tears mingled with the blood on her face, a testament to the depth of her anger and grief. The knife slid in and out with calculated precision, each stab a declaration of her suffering and a tribute to her mother's memory.
She plunged the knife into him again and again, her movements methodical and ruthless. The room became a grisly tableau of blood and anguish. The once-innocent child was now a figure of grim justice, reclaiming control over her own narrative through acts of brutal retribution.
Each thrust of the knife was accompanied by the silent echoes of her mother's screams and her own cries of despair.
The man's attempts to fight back were pitiful. His drunken reflexes were no match for the determined vengeance of his daughter. His body flailed weakly, unable to defend itself from the relentless onslaught. Blood pooled around them, soaking into the worn mattress and staining the floor with a horrific crimson.
The once vibrant color of his flesh was now a sickening blend of red and purple, his body barely recognizable beneath the layers of gore. Monet's hands, though trembling from exhaustion, remained steady. The act of vengeance had consumed her entirely, and as she finally stepped back, she surveyed the grim scene before her with a cold sense of finality.
Breathless and covered in blood, Monet stood over her father's lifeless form. The rage that had fueled her actions began to subside, replaced by a hollow emptiness. The finality of her act was both a liberation and a burden. She had achieved the retribution she sought, but the cost had been steep.
Turning her gaze away from the grotesque tableau, Monet walked out of the house. The night air was cool against her bloodstained skin, a stark contrast to the horror she had just endured. She knew that the path ahead would be uncertain and fraught with challenges, but for now, she had found a measure of closure in the wake of her father's demise.
Monet emerged from the decrepit metal house, her small frame nearly obscured by the crimson stains that drenched her from head to toe. The rusty knife she clutched tightly was slick with blood, and each step she took left a trail of red on the ground beneath her. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, and her eyes, though resolute, were filled with the raw pain of what she had just done.
The night was shrouded in darkness, with only the faint glimmer of distant streetlights casting eerie shadows across the abandoned alleyways. As she staggered forward, her blood-stained dress clung to her like a macabre shroud, and the sharp, metallic scent of iron mingled with the musty odor of the slums.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the darkness, his imposing presence framed by the dim light. Doflamingo's grin was both chilling and unnervingly genuine. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of admiration and cold amusement.
"I didn't expect you to follow through with what you promised," he said, his voice smooth yet carrying an edge of sinister amusement.
"You are much more like me than you realize, little Monet. When I was your age, I wanted to kill my father for the torment he inflicted on my mother. But my little brother denied me that opportunity. As much as I hate him for it, I am glad I didn't deprive you of your chance. Now, I hope you can let go of the anger that drives you. I don't want vengeful monsters within my family."
Doffy's words were laden with a complexity that Monet could barely comprehend. He spoke with an unexpected sincerity, his voice resonating with a depth of feeling she hadn't anticipated. The pain of his own past seemed to echo in his words, a reflection of the twisted path that had led him to this moment.
Monet, her body trembling and her eyes brimming with unshed tears, dropped to her knees. The weight of her actions bore heavily upon her, and the sight of the blood staining the ground around her was a stark reminder of the price she had paid.
"Master," she choked out, her voice breaking with the strain of her emotions, "will my little sister be treated fairly? As long as she can have a decent life, I am willing to do anything for you."
Her eyes, still filled with the determination forged in the crucible of her suffering, locked onto Doffy's. She was prepared to make any bargain, to sacrifice anything if it meant securing a safe and decent life for Sugar. The promise of her sister's well-being was the only light in the darkness that enveloped her.
Doffy's gaze softened, and he stepped closer, his demeanor shifting from that of a cold-blooded demon to that of a figure offering solace. "She will live like a princess," he said, his voice imbued with a warmth that contrasted with his usual demeanor. "I promise you that. She will want for nothing and will be protected from the horrors that you've endured. I give you my word."
He gently tapped Monet on the head, a gesture that, despite its simplicity, held a strange tenderness. His eyes, normally filled with a calculating glint, now reflected a flicker of something akin to genuine compassion. Monet, overwhelmed by the depth of his promise, could no longer hold back the tears she had been fighting to suppress. They flowed freely now, mingling with the blood on her cheeks.
"Thank you, Master," she whispered, her voice barely audible through her sobs. The weight of her actions and the gravity of her promise had finally caught up with her, and the tears were a release of the anguish she had bottled up for so long.
Doffy watched her with a mixture of satisfaction and melancholy. In the cruel, twisted world they inhabited, her act of vengeance had come at a steep price, but it had also brought her a semblance of closure. As Monet knelt in the blood-soaked ground, she knew that the future held uncertainties, but for now, she had secured a glimmer of hope for her sister.
*********
Dear Readers,
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story! Your support truly means everything to me, and I appreciate every single one of you who has joined me on this journey. I'm excited to share that for every 500 power stones I receive (weekly), I'll be posting an extra chapter as a token of my gratitude.
Additionally, if you'd like to dive deeper into the world I've created, I invite you to join my Patreon page, where you can access over 60 additional chapters and more exclusive content. Your support not only helps me continue writing but also motivates me to create even better stories for you all.
Thank you once again for your encouragement and enthusiasm. Happy reading, and I can't wait to share more with you!
With heartfelt thanks,
[Silent_stiele]
Patreon : www.patreon.com/Silent_stiele
ความคิดของผู้สร้าง 
Silent_stiele
Silent_stiele Dear Readers,
I want to express my deepest gratitude for the constant support you have given my work. Your encouragement and feedback have been invaluable, and I am truly thankful for each one of you.
If possible, I would love to garner even more support through power stones and reviews. Each additional review helps my work reach more readers, and even a single review can make a significant difference. Your support means the world to me, and I am deeply appreciative of every effort you make to help my work grow.
For those who would like to support me further and gain access to more than 60 additional chapters, you can do so on Patreon. Your support there is crucial and greatly appreciated, as it allows me to continue creating and sharing my work with you.
Thank you for your understanding and for being an integral part of this journey. Your presence and support are what make this all possible.
With heartfelt thanks,
[Silent_stiele]
Patreon : www.patreon.com/Silent_stiele
สถานะพลังงานรายสัปดาห์
-- การจัดอันดับด้วยพลัง 
-- หินพลัง