WHISPERS AND WAR

After murdering his father, Francis was taken to a newly opened isolation center, a facility so exclusive that only the wealthy could gain admission. The small family was never the same after Franklin's death.

Using her connections, Hannah managed to send her two daughters out of the country. They still had to be tested, though, to prevent any further infections.

Francis lay on his bed, the scene of his father's murder playing over and over in his head. His skull throbbed painfully, but he had grown tired of screaming. Now, all he could do was lie there in silence.

In the corner of the room sat Vanessa—not the real Vanessa—but a phantom conjured by his imagination. Dressed in a black dress, she looked beautiful, yet her intentions were purely evil.

"Francisco," she called. "How's your day going?"

Francis didn't reply. He turned away, pressing his hands against his ears.

"Oh, so now you're ignoring me?" she chuckled. "Why didn't you think of doing that before you raped me?"

"Shut up..." Francis muttered.

"You liked it, didn't you?" she taunted. "I still remember how you pulled me close and locked my lips with yours. I struggled to break free, but you held me tight. Not as tight as Stephan, though—he almost broke my arms."

"You're not real..." Francis whispered.

"When Stephan proposed the idea of raping me, you were against it, weren't you? You didn't want to do it, but you wanted me. I'm sure you loved me more than he did, didn't you, Francis?" she said seductively.

Francis turned to face her, his eyes brimming with tears. "I never wanted Vanessa to die. It's all Stephan's fault."

"But still, you were responsible for my death, weren't you? You could've saved me from him. Before he pushed me off the bridge, you were mad at him for hitting me, weren't you?" Vanessa slowly approached him.

"I was! I was so mad I wanted to kill him! The fact that he had those rascals f*ck her pisses me off the most! I just want to kill all of them!" Francis roared.

"You can still make it up to me," she whispered, gently caressing his face. "Do you want to know how?"

"Tell me! I'll do anything, Vanessa! Just tell me what to do!" he pleaded without hesitation.

"Find them and kill them! They should pay for what they did! And anyone who tries to stop you—kill them too! Spare no one!" she ordered, an evil grin spreading across her lips.

"I will! But it's just me against twelve men," Francis hesitated.

"You killed your father, didn't you?" Vanessa whispered in his ear. "If those goons hadn't been hired by Stephan… if Stephan hadn't raped me that night, your father would still be alive, wouldn't he?"

"You're right!" Rage surged through Francis. "I will end them, just like I ended my father!"

"That would be too quick. Make them suffer first, then tell them why they're suffering before you finish them off," Vanessa urged.

"Will you forgive me after I end them?"

Vanessa smiled. "Sure... but only if you break everyone out of their cages first."

"But they get out, they'll infect everyone," Francis hesitated.

"Isn't that what you want? The pain you've felt these past weeks… do you really think it's fair to suffer it alone? They should all feel what you've felt!"

Francis clenched his fists. "You're right! I'll let them all out right now!"

He sprang from the bed and began ramming into the door, trying to break it open.

"That's my Francis," Vanessa laughed darkly.

. . .

The tiger leaped into the air, its claws aiming straight for Damon's heart. But before it could reach him, Arora jumped between them, plunging a huge knife into the beast's head. The tiger collapsed, blood pouring from its skull.

Damon stood frozen in shock. "How… how did you do that? And where did that knife come from?"

"What's wrong with you?" she scowled at him. "Don't you know how to use a gun?"

"I do, but I've never shot anything alive before," Damon admitted.

"Well, give me that then," she snatched the gun from him. "How did you even know there was a gun here?"

"My dad practically owns this school," Damon replied. The thought of his father sent a pang of sadness through him.

Arora noticed and sighed. "Are you going to stand there and cry like a baby, or are you coming with me to find my sister?"

"With your skills, you don't need my help," Damon turned to leave.

"Of course, I do," she replied. "I wouldn't have been able to kill that tiger if not for you."

Damon frowned. "The way you moved with that knife before stabbing that cat… it wasn't normal."

"I was only able to kill it because it was focused on you. You draw their attention, I kill them. Any questions?" Arora reloaded the shotgun.

"How old are you?" Damon raised a brow.

"The only thing you need to know about me is that my father runs the biggest gang in Japan," Arora replied before exiting the room.

"Makes sense," Damon muttered, scurrying after her.

Once outside the dormitory, Arora fired the shotgun into the air three times.

Damon panicked. "What are you doing?! You'll bring those tigers here!"

"There are only four of them," she replied. "I already killed one, so now it's just three left."

"Just three?!" Damon couldn't believe what he was hearing. "It took a knife to the skull just to kill one tiger!"

"If you had aimed right, one bullet from this baby would've shattered its skull completely," Arora said, patting the shotgun.

Suddenly, a growl rumbled from behind them. They spun around—only to see the tiger they thought was dead, still standing. The knife handle still poked out of its skull.

"How is it still alive?" Arora's confidence wavered slightly. "Well, I doubt it'll survive this!"

BANG!

She pulled the trigger. The bullet struck the tiger's head, shattering its skull. Bits of flesh and bone sprayed across the field.

But the tiger only staggered for a second—then charged at them full speed.

"Arora!"

A voice rang out behind them.

"Mina!" Arora's face lit up. She turned away from the incoming danger, locking eyes with her sister.

Damon moved instantly, blocking the tiger's path. The beast's claws tore into his chest, nearly piercing his heart. Gritting his teeth, he caught its limb, stopping the claws from digging deeper.

The tiger pushed him to the ground, slashing at his face. Damon reached for the knife that had fallen from its skull. Gripping it tightly, he plunged the blade into the tiger's belly—again and again. Blood poured over him, soaking his clothes.

After several deep stabs, the tiger finally gave in and collapsed on top of him. Damon shoved the carcass aside and rose to his feet, panting. "That was really disgusting."

"Who is he?" Mina asked Arora.

"I don't know. He was helping me rescue you," she replied.

Mina stepped toward Damon and bowed. "Thank you, but I'm afraid we'll have to go our separate ways now."

"Sure," Damon replied.

"Why are you here, anyway?" Arora asked. "Are you also looking for someone?"

"Actually, I'm looking for something—a book. It's creepy-looking… gives off a do-not-touch vibe…"

"I think you should check the Main Bureau. The tigers came from there," Mina said.

"You said there were four tigers, right?" Damon glanced at Arora.

"Two now," Mina corrected. "I killed one. The other two were much more bigger and stronger so I could only trap them."

"Where are they now?" Damon asked.

"Locked up in one of the classrooms, but they'll be out soon. So I suggest you find what you're looking for and get the hell out of this place as soon as possible," Mina answered.

"Thank you," Damon said, stretching out his hand for a handshake.

Mina took a step back. "I'm sorry, but you've got the tiger's blood all over you. I can't accept your handshake."

"Oh… sorry," Damon mumbled, realizing he was practically drenched in the tiger's blood. "Do you two have a ride?"

Mina shook her head.

"In that case, there's a car just outside the school gate. Feel free to take it," Damon offered. "It's safe, I promise."

"I would've hugged you, but you're... you know," Arora chuckled, glancing at the blood.

"Thank you for saving my life," Damon said sincerely.

"And thank you for saving mine," Arora replied, bowing slightly. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a card, handing it to him. "Here's my dad's business card. Call if you ever need help."

"Sure," Damon said, accepting the card.

Once the exchange was over, Arora and her sister bolted off like lightning toward the school gate.

As soon as they were out of sight, Damon collapsed to the ground. The pain was unbearable. Blood began to pour from his eyes, ears, mouth, and nose. His vision blurred, and his body convulsed as a deafening chorus of voices echoed in his head.

"It's your fault your father died!"

"You could've saved him!"

"It's your fault I died!"

"Where were you when Stephan threw me over the bridge?!"

Damon clutched his head, his screams piercing through the air.