Luxuzia stormed into the room, and began to scan every corner with her bloodshot eyes. She wasn't searching for something, she was hunting someone.
Her prey.
The twelve-year-old girl who had become the embodiment of her suffering.
The source of her pain, humiliation and misfortune.
Her hatred and resentment had festered into something monstrous, and they demanded satisfaction.
What she would do to the girl once she captured her needed no explanation. But a swift death? No, that would be far too merciful.
Even if she killed her a hundred times over, it wouldn't quench the inferno of rage consuming her heart.