Roaya was trapped in a gray limbo, watching rituals that did not belong to the world of the living. Under the light of a pale, crimson moon, her eyes saw the unbearable: seven-year-old children being dragged toward a cold stone altar covered in moss grown from ancient blood. Black daggers, dark as a starless night, stabbed small chests. Blood flowed like rivers of garnet, drawing demonic symbols on a floor that groaned under the weight of black magic.
Roaya let out a dry laugh, sounding like breaking bones. She said bitterly, "Wonderful... it seems I'm stuck in a cliché classic horror movie. To hell with this filth."
But the vision expanded. she approached the platform where an old man stood, smelling of rot and death. His face was a map of disgusting hollows, and his eyes were sunken like open graves. Roaya muttered with disdain, "So, is this the 'genius' behind all this nonsense?"
A scream tore through the fabric of the dream. A little girl fought against her restraints, shouting with the rasp of final hope: "Let me go! I am not a sacrifice for your madness! I have a brother waiting for me!"
The old man stepped forward, a faint yellow smile stretching across his lips. He spoke in a voice like the hissing of snakes: "You will die, little one, and your brother will follow you soon. You will both be fuel for my eternal rituals."
With deadly coldness, he plunged his dagger into her small heart. Blood exploded, and the light in her eyes went out. At that moment, Roaya felt her veins were about to burst with rage. She screamed madly, "If I weren't just a helpless ghost, I would have taught you how a real stabbing feels, you piece of trash!"
Suddenly, reality shook. From the heart of the symbols, a massive black shadow rose—a mass of pure void. In its center, a giant red eye opened, staring directly into Roaya's soul. She felt a massive pulling force tearing her consciousness apart.
Waking Up Inside the Steel
She opened her eyes, gasping for air. The metal walls of the car surrounded her instead of the altar.
"Good morning, sunshine. Did you enjoy your nightmares?" Marcus said in a relaxed tone.
From the other side, Louie asked anxiously, "Roaya, you're pale. Are you okay?"
Roaya answered in a sinister voice, her eyes still reflecting the color of blood: "I know how we catch that maniac. And there is a witness to his crimes waiting for us."
She realized then that she had been sleeping on Marcus's shoulder. She looked up at him with a hardened expression. Marcus laughed softly, "I was just patting you; you looked like a sleeping kitten."
With lightning speed, her elbow struck his side. BOOM!
She looked at him with disgust: "If you touch me again, I'll make my punch the last thing you ever see."
Kai sighed in despair, hitting his forehead with his hand: "My God... the idiot and the bigger idiot in one car."
The Orphanage: Where Ghosts Dwell
Roaya led them to a crumbling orphanage. She recalled the location from the memory of the girl who died in her dream; Roaya possessed a cursed ability to read the minds of those who died shivering in despair.
There, they found a boy named Louie, thirteen years old. He sat in a dark corner, silent as a marble statue. Kai approached him gently: "Tell us, son, what happened in that village?"
The boy's face turned the color of a shroud. He put his hands over his ears, screaming frantically, "No! You're liars! You'll send me to him! I won't say anything!"
Roaya lost her patience. She rushed toward him, grabbed him by the collar, and lifted him up: "Why are you so weak? Don't you feel the fire of revenge burning inside you? Your sister sacrificed her soul so you could escape, and you choose cowardice? You will die alone, and that old man will drag you to the grave just like he did to her!"
Kai tried to stop her, but she snapped, "Shut up! You know nothing!" She pushed the boy to the ground and said with contempt, "Honestly, what a waste that a brave girl died for a nobody like you."
The boy exploded with anger. He took off his shoe and threw it at her face. Roaya smiled bloodily as she wiped a smudge from her cheek. "Now I'm starting to like you... that's what I call a fight. Now tell me, where is that scoundrel? I want to peel his skin from his bones."
The Journey Toward Hell
Louie told the story, tears carving paths down his face. He told them about the man who came as a savior, then sprayed a sleeping gas in the orphanage. He described how he and his sister hid, and how they dragged her by her hair until he fell from the cliff.
"He lives in a luxury hotel near the village, acting as if he never killed anyone," the boy said with a sob.
Roaya laughed hysterically, "A life of luxury after killing twenty children? Even I never dreamed of that."
She turned to Marcus coldly: "Give me the keys."
Marcus tried to joke, but her gaze was enough to stop his heart. He tossed the keys to her: "Here, the nightmare of my life."
She took off in the car like an arrow, leaving behind a cloud of dust that covered Kai's worried shouts about traffic tickets. She reached the hotel in half the expected time, sparks flying from her eyes.
A Different Kind of Reckoning
She knocked on his door, pretending to be a housekeeper. The old man opened the door, yawning lazily. As soon as he turned around, he found Roaya with a bat in her hand. BOOM! A blow to his stomach made him curl up like a worm.
She threw the bat aside and said, "I'll show you hell before you even enter it."
She rained down punches that shattered his eye socket, then lifted the table and broke it over his back. She dragged him by his hair and slammed his head against the wall until the wallpaper was stained deep crimson.
Two hours of silent torture passed until Marcus and Kai burst into the room. Marcus pulled her away from the living corpse bleeding at her feet.
Roaya screamed, struggling in his arms, "Let me go! I'll tear apart what's left of him!"
Kai said quietly, "Calm down. The law will take care of him."
Roaya looked at him with red eyes, just like the monster in her dream: "What law? The law that will give him a warm bed in a prison? Will that bring back the bodies of the children he tore apart? No... the only justice here is what my hands do!"