Chapter 143: Chapter 143 – A Lake of Red

“Just kneeling there is already annoying. Even his breathing pisses me off,” Alex hissed, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear while his eyes stayed locked on me.

I could not bring myself to look at them directly. From where I was, all I could see was a row of legs. Yukie stood there in her polished high heels, looking down at me with an icy gaze. Beside her, Maximus wore a crooked smirk, Isabel looked amused by the spectacle, and Nerissa observed with a sadistic glint in her eye.

Alex stepped closer, his slow pace deliberate as he stopped right in front of me. His voice echoed in my already burning ears.

“You know, Adam,” he went on, then crouched down until his face was level with mine. His breath clouded faintly in the air. “Maybe the problem is not what you did. Maybe the problem is simply… your existence. You breathe the same air as us. And that alone… contaminates the atmosphere.”

He stood up again and glanced at Yukie, as if seeking approval. She did not react, but her indifference was the loudest consent he could have received.

“So how about we fix that problem?” Alex suggested casually.

My heart pounded hard against my ribs. “W-What… what do you want me to—”

“Lick,” he cut me off. The word was sharp and merciless. “Lick our shoes. One by one. Apologize for being born, for still being alive and daring to breathe this air. Maybe then we can tolerate your existence a little longer.”

The order hung heavily in the suffocating air. Nausea churned in my throat. My eyes, almost against my will, traced the line of shoes in front of me.

“Do it!” Alex barked, pointing at the floor.

I crawled forward, my stomach twisting painfully. Slowly, I bent down, bringing my face close to the tip of Yukie’s leather heel. From the corner of my eye, I could see the hem of her neat black skirt.

Tears finally spilled, dripping onto the marble floor before my tongue even touched her shoe. A sense of filth, deep and all consuming, flooded every part of me.

“Good dog,” Alex muttered behind me, his voice satisfied.

I crawled sideways, humiliation burning into every inch of my skin. As I neared Maximus’s large, heavy boots, Isabel suddenly sneered.

“Ew, don’t come near me,” she said in a shrill voice, hiding a small laugh behind her slender hand. “You’re obviously just looking for an excuse to peek. You disgusting pervert.”

She crossed her arms, her pretty face twisting in disgust. “Exactly. Shameless. That’s obviously what he’s thinking.”

Nerissa snorted coldly. “Don’t involve me. I don’t want my shoes touched by something that filthy.”

I kept my head down. There was no defense left in my mind. No dignity worth trying to protect.

Alex scoffed, taking in their reactions like applause.

“See?” he said, as if proving a point. “Even when you try to humble yourself, you’re still disgusting.”

He stepped forward again and placed his expensive white sneakers right in front of my nose. “Forget them. Focus. Lick mine. And this time, say your apology.”

I stared at the shoes. Every stain, every crease in the white fabric seemed arranged just to humiliate me. In a hoarse whisper, I said, “I-I’m sorry… please forgive me… for… existing.”

“Hah,” he mocked flatly. “What a pathetic sight.”

The kick came without warning, from the side, slamming into my temple.

The world spun and went dark in an instant. My cheek smashed against the cold floor, sharp pain competing with the burning pulse inside my skull. Through the deafening ringing in my ears, I faintly heard Alex’s voice.

“Idiot.”

.

.

.

Every time that memory surfaces, I feel like tearing my own skull apart, smashing my head against a wall again and again, just to erase it. To wash away the humiliation that still feels wet on my tongue and hot against my cheek.

But I cannot.

All I can do is something worse.

So, to calm myself, I look ahead.

On the floor of the Rutherford family’s luxurious living room lie four bodies, scattered and lifeless.

Their necks have been cleanly severed, the heads lying not far from their bodies, frozen in expressions of shock. Orville with his last look of disbelief. The mother with her mouth still open, a scream trapped forever inside. Alex’s two younger brothers, still far too young to understand why they had to die. The expensive carpet has become a thick red lake, soaking up every last trace of life.

The sight, brutal in its chaos, gives me a strange sense of peace.

Then, the front door creaks open.

Alex steps inside, his face still pale and drained from the day that destroyed him at the academy.

His eyes jump from one point to another, trying to process what he is seeing. Blood. So much blood. Headless bodies. And then… the heads. Faces he has known his entire life.

“No…” he whispers, more breath than sound. “No… no… NO!”

His legs give out. He collapses onto the marble floor at the doorway, not far from his father’s severed head. His body trembles violently, as if seized by convulsions. His hands reach out into the air, wanting to touch but too afraid. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, trying to form words, questions, screams, but no sound comes out.

“Ekh…” Alex chokes, unable to comprehend what lies before him.

Why?

The question is written clearly in every ragged breath, in his wide eyes filled with horror.

’I did everything. I knelt. I stripped. I was beaten. Why?’

Standing in the center of the room, surrounded by my work, I finally speak, cutting through the unspoken question.

“Idiot,” I say.

Alex turns toward me, his eyes flooded with tears and a growing madness. He sees me standing among his family’s corpses, my shoes stained red, and a reality more horrifying than any nightmare finally sinks in.

I begin to walk. My steps are slow, splashing against the wet floor. I step over his headless mother’s body, approaching Alex as he sits frozen in shock.

“Y-You…” he finally manages to speak, his voice hoarse and raw. “You… lied… you said… you would forgive me…”

I stop right in front of him, looking down as if at an insect.

“I lied,” I confirm simply. “I will never forgive you. Not today. Not tomorrow. Even when you are dead and reduced to bones, my hatred for you will still live on.”

“RAAGHHH!”

A howl of pure despair and unbearable pain bursts from Alex’s throat. He tries to crawl forward to attack me, but his body is too weak.

I give him no chance. My foot, driven with strength equal to an S Rank, slams into his chest with force capable of crushing steel.

THUD!

The sound of ribs snapping is like dry wood breaking. Alex is thrown backward, his body smashing into the wall beside the door with such force that it cracks. He falls and sprawls on the floor, his mouth hanging open as he tries to breathe, only hissing sounds and bubbling blood escaping.

I step closer, unhurried. I crush his outstretched arm beneath my foot, the right one that used to point at me and slap me around.

CRACK!

“AAAAAGH!” His scream tears through the silence of the death soaked house.

“Where is your pride now, Alex?” I ask, shifting my foot to his left arm. “When you ordered me to lick your shoes? When you laughed at my tears?”

CRACK!

Another scream, higher and more desperate. His left arm bends at an unnatural angle.

I move to his legs. I lift my foot and bring it down onto his right shin.

CRUNCH!

“STOP! PLEASE! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY AGAIN! I’LL DO ANYTHING!” he screams, his voice dissolving into a mix of sobs, shrieks, and blind panic.

“Too late,” I reply, moving my foot to his left shin. “Your apologies are worthless. They always were.”

CRUNCH!

Now Alex lies on the floor, surrounded by his family’s corpses, both arms and both legs broken. He can no longer crawl. All he can do is cry and writhe in unimaginable pain.

And then, amid the pain and horror, his body responds in the most primitive way. His pants grow wet, the sharp stench of urine mixing with the smell of blood in the air.

I look down at him, at his soaked clothes, his ruined body, the tears and snot covering his face.

“Pathetic,” I murmur. “Truly pathetic.”

That word seems to snap the last thread of his sanity. Alex’s pain filled eyes suddenly blaze with the purest, wildest hatred, like a cornered beast.

“YOU… YOU MONSTER!” he roars, his voice hoarse and cracking. “YOU DEVIL! YOU BASTARD! I CURSE YOU! I CURSE YOUR LIFE, ADAM SOCHERON! YOUR WHORE OF A MOTHER WILL DIE IN THE MOST HUMILIATING WAY! AND YOU… YOU WILL DIE AND SUFFER IN HELL FOR ETERNITY! YOU—”

“Pfftt…”

I can barely hold back my laughter.

“Do you realize how ridiculous you sound just now?” I ask.

Alex falls silent at my mockery.

The same foot that shattered his bones rises, then crashes down, aimed straight at his hatred filled face.

BRUK!

The kick lands squarely on his mouth. The sound of teeth shattering and a jaw cracking is clear. His curse turns into gurgling blood and incoherent whimpers. His lips split, several front teeth breaking loose and scattering across the floor.

Now he is quiet, only weak groans and sobs escaping him as blood pours from his ruined mouth.

I bend down and grab his hair, yanking his head up and forcing him to meet my cold gaze.

“Don’t be so pathetic, Alex,” I whisper. “I… am not done yet.”

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