Trigger Warning:

- strangling

- blood

- mention of whipping

- rape

- nonconsensual kissing

- physical assault

- mention of panic attack

- crude language

In an hour or two, I am to be dropped off at the U.A. dormitory.

But until then, a meal with Hanada-sama and his three hell creatures of sons is required.

Indeed, I, Lucifer Morningstar, the Devil, do not approve of those demons.

Just goes to show my standards.

The dinner is rather uneventful. Hanada-sama is invested in the futures of his children. So my number will come last. What is not uneventful are the secrets I know. At this moment, a new book has entered the market. A reprint of the ideologies of a long-deceased criminal. Ironic how in a world where heroes are idolized, a radical book such as this is slowly making its name as a bestseller. Shigaraki ordered me to read it and "figure out what all the fuss was about." Though, there was certainly more to it than that. What with Kurogiri's recent capture, another severe blow was lashed onto Shigaraki's confidence. Including me. Because absorbing someone's ability does not make me a complete replacement of the original. Losing not one but two of the founding members of the League of Villains dwindled our strength drastically. We had to make up numbers, and fast. This book was one method to go about that.

At the same time, we had to bluff to Japan that although the heroes arrested important villains, we were not weakened. Right now, one such action was being performed. Everyone forgot about the noumu so quickly, thinking that the ones found at the facility were the jackpot. Wrong. Never keep all your eggs in one basket. There were always more, and more could be made.

However, all the events I had listed were occurring outside the dining room. I told Hanada-sama about the Cultural Festival. Though numerous Pro-Heroes were in attendance, that Festival did not enable me to make any connections unlike the Sports Festival, which was more hero-centric than all-school-centric. He seemed pleased that I did not waste my time and effort on a fruitless endeavor. Funny, how similar my thoughts were to his regarding this matter. But that similar opportunist business mindset is all we share. Nothing more.

I wonder what Aunt Ahearn would say about all this. We share a pseudo mother-daughter relationship now. Often, we share the recent events in our lives whenever we talk over video conference. I can tell that she represses the urge to reprimand me for my actions. Especially since it was my questionable actions that returned her happiness to her. But I am afraid that one day she won't hold back her scoldings any longer. Truth is, I would deserve all those lashings. Regardless of her hypocrisy, I shifted from killing those who deserved to die to practically everyone. And I didn't feel remorseful about it. I became a cold-blooded killer to the bone. Clever pun, I know.

I'm not sure that I can go back.

I'm not sure if I want to go back.

Because there is a perverse sense of satisfaction that comes when I realize that I have power over someone's life. My victim is my plaything. Mine for me to treat and manipulate and scare until I grow bored and execute them. All those years of oppression and suppression are returned to the poor, pitiful soul in front of me. There is power in vengeance, and I have grown to lust for it.

Speaking of lust, the way Hanada-sama's eldest son is leering at me right now makes me want to pour the salt in the shaker in his eyes. I consider almost doing it when something Hanada-sama catches my attention.

"... a bride for you soon," he says.

"What did you say? Please repeat." I request, utterly confused.

Hanada-sama sighs with exaggerated disappointment. The condescension grates at me. "Where is your focus, Selene? It is rude to not listen to what your father is saying. Your brother is of marriageable age. We are starting the search for a bride. Get him married by the start of next year."

My eyes widen. And then I scoff. Audibly. Now I laugh. Incredulously. Guffaws escape my throat uncontrollably. I think the servants must think there is a hyena let loose in the manor. "Marriage? And him?" I stare at said son in astonishment.

"Yes. What is so funny about that?"

Are you seriously asking me that? "Would any girl marry him if she knew the things that went on in this household? That happened to the 'littlest one' of the family? Or do you not plan on telling her and her family the truth? Just bury the dark secrets in the ground and maintain this facade of being excellent human beings."

His son glares at me. "Mind your language. She doesn't need to know anything. You're the family whore. Always kept as a secret, and a secret is all you'll ever be."

Wrath courses through my veins like a blizzard. How dare you! You tell me to restrain my tongue when you made me like this! "Oh, really?" I taunt. "Just how will you go about 'keeping me a secret?' Sooner or later, she will learn the reality. And not for one second do I think you will bestow enough love upon her so that she remains ignorant." I rise out of my seat, only for the other two hellions to push me back. They spit at me to shut up.

I. Will. Not.

For the first time in years, I resist the Hanadas physically. I shove them off me. Hard. And I open the shakers of salt and pepper and throw them. They scream and shriek like banshees. I relish their anguish. However, I want to do more than simply singe their eyes. I want to burn them alive. The progenitor of the hell beings and his minions. The first son slams my head on the table and strangles me. I claw at his hands, throat, face and every bit of exposed skin. He howls when I gouge his eyelids.

"EVERY ONE OF YOU, STOP THIS INSTANT!" Hanada-sama bursts from the bottom of his lungs. The order was intended for the four of us, but only three obey. I kick my suffocator between his legs. He shrieks pathetically as he falls to his knees and bends over. Finally, I face my true suffocator. The one who strangled me of joyful life.

Hanada-sama stares at me with horror and revulsion. After so many years he ultimately sees me as a threat. I will not back down. Confidence surges through me as I return his stare. That same pride gives me the strength to stroll my way to him. Though each step is silent, it carries unfathomable weight. "My birthday is tomorrow. Your present consists of ten lashings, but I know you will not whip me today. Perhaps you will tell your to-be-bridegroom to have has last days of bedroom practice with me before his wedding night. After all, a punishment is in place for my disobedience." When the distance between us shortens to just a few centimeters, I rise on my toes and whisper in his ear, "Concubines have always lived in separate quarters from the queen. I'm sure that when the bride sets foot inside this manor, you will have me living in other accommodations. But that will only happen if a bride arrives." I do not need to finish the rest of my promise. The fear in Hanada-sama's usually emotionless eyes convey all the scenarios running through his mind. But the one he could never imagine is the one coursing through mine.

His cold mask returns instantly, and with it, a resounding slap. As if a meager pinch of pain will waver my resolve. When I glare at him with wrath tenfold, he orders the to-be-bridegroom to take me away.

The rape is brutal. Two hours and the eldest son makes full use of it. But I will not succumb. Not now. Not anymore.

My tormentor's bedroom preference is bondage. Often, he restrains my wrists with his hands or a cord. This rape is no different. Each wrist is tied to a bed post. Though I think this time it is not for the purpose of arousal but for the purpose of restricting me. After all, I did scratch his face like a ferocious cat. And I am not done.

Unfortunately, he is not either. He tears at my chemise with the same ferocity that I unleashed at him. I thrash and kick. Although it is pointless because of his position and weight, I do not intend to make this easy for him. Not anymore. He prevails and sinks inside me.

"Stop fighting, you ***," he seethes, each word matched with a forceful thrust and squeeze around my throat.

"Whatever for?" I return just as venomously. "It took me a long time to accept that subservience has no effect on the level of torture. Resist or not, you seek to hurt me just for the sake of it. Time for me to return the favor. So here is a taste of your own poison. Is it sweet as poisoned honey?"

The taunt pricks at him, and he presses too hard. The pinches on my breasts amplify in pain. Fighting the reflex wince takes conscious effort. "How dare you address me like you're my equal. I am your master, and I always will be." To make his point, he smashes his lips against mine. Sucking, biting, tearing. The sharp tang of copper and iron splatters on my tongue.

Far more agonizing are his words. I am the snake, and it is my turn to strike. Years of frozen fury rises, rushing through my veins with confidence and determination. I return the kiss just as passionately yet with a different passion. More blood spills. But not mine. It tastes divine. Now I understand why Toga liked drinking blood so much. Her vampiric tendencies are rubbing off on me. My tormentor tries to break away from the kiss, but I do not give him the chance to. Though it is my hands that are constrained to the bed posts, I am the one leading. Let the victim become the seductress. Against my revulsion, I raise my legs to slowly trail them against his. The groan he emits tells me my little manipulation is working. Finally, I wrap them around his waist, enabling him to sink deeper, closing any gap between our bodies. His fingers drop from my throat and breasts to my hips. He slides his arms under them, intensifying the sensation.

Funny how a little temptation can make even the most virile of men lose their minds.

Much to his dissatisfaction, I extricate my lips from his. He seeks to claim them again. Before I can, I brush them up his jaw to his ear. And then, "I have no master but myself. Rather, it is you who comes to me to seek the basest of pleasures. You come again and again. You stay for hours on end. So is it not me who has true power? Is it not me who is superior to you? " My riposte works its magic. He stills completely. My tormentor rises just enough to stare at me with terrified eyes. For the first time, fear fills his eyes instead of mine. I smirk diabolically. "Happy birthday to me. I made a victory. The torturer fears me. Happy birthday to me."

There is no doubt that the woman who will become the mistress of the manor will have no joy in her married life. How can men who treat a girl like this treat a woman any differently? I recall what Calliope, Thalia, and Ourania endured. What Aunt Ahearn suffered. They told me that my killing inadvertently saved the lives of other victims. That is what I will have to do in order to prevent anyone from suffering the same fate I did. The Hanadas were the last four on my kill list. And I have waited long enough. Before the New Year, at least one has to die. Much like his father, repugnance replaces terror immediately. I stare at the hate-filled eyes boaring into mine, matching them with my own. Perhaps I will start with the bridegroom.

So I might have become overconfident in the heat of the moment.

My pride may have gotten the better of me.

Because the moment the car stops in front of the dormitory gates, I hesitate.

Pulling out a hand mirror from my purse, I observe my face and neck for bruises. None. All healed. My wrists for pain. Nothing. My clothes for any tears and wrinkles. Nonexistent. If anyone looked at me right now, they would never assume that I had just been assaulted. I would like to believe that, too. Yet the familiar devastation inside me does not disappear like the signs. It is an old acquaintance. Sometimes arrives without warning, sometimes with prior notice. Regardless, it stays for a long time.

Sparing a moment to swallow the feelings, I finally exit. From here, the only place I want to go is the bathroom. A hot, luxurious bath to wash away everything. So when Bakugou-kun interferes and tells me to follow him, I am visibly irritated. The most I manage to withhold is my tongue.

Soon, that control starts to slip. I am about to open my mouth to ask why he brought me here, when the answer appears before me. The students and Aizawa-sensei encircle someone.

I part the crowd to see for myself.

And my breath catches at the sight.

It is Shouto-kun.

Having the scariest panic attack I have seen in my life.