Rebellion Against Heaven - Part 12

Chapter 12: Kaira Thompson: The Puppeteer

In the depths of the alleys of Bangkok, where the light of neon lights filters through dirt and sin, Kaira Thompson was born. His mother was an exotic dancer who had been brought from London with the promise of a better life, but who soon fell into the nets of a clandestine trafficking ring. Kaira never knew who her father was. Her mother hid her for years in a small back room of a nightclub, away from the eyes of men who came for entertainment and pleasure.

From a young age, Kaira witnessed human decadence and cruelty. He knew no love or kindness, only fear and the instinct for survival. He watched from the shadows, learning how words and gestures could cause men to give in to the whims of those who knew how to play with them. Her mother tried to protect her, but fate was cruel. One night, when Kaira was just nine years old, her mother was brutally murdered by one of the club's owners, a man with a thick voice and soulless eyes.

That was the day Kaira stopped being a child.

With his small stature and ruthless intelligence, he knew he wouldn't survive with physical strength. Instead, she became a specter in the halls of the club, learning to move without being seen, to manipulate with words, gestures and looks. Her natural gift for deception and persuasion grew over the years, and with it, a dark talent that would make her feared: the control of the strings.

They weren't real threads at first, but an exceptional ability to manipulate people. He learned to touch the most sensitive chord of human hearts, to entangle their desires and fears until they made them dance at will. First it was small favors, then robberies, extortion, and finally murders. With a charming smile and sweet words, she managed to get her victims to do the unthinkable for her. Her reputation began to spread among Thailand's underworlds, and soon, the most powerful criminals wanted her on their side.

But Kaira was not someone who allowed herself to be possessed.

At seventeen, she disappeared from the radar of those who believed they had tamed her. No one knows exactly what she did in the next five years, but when she returned, she was no longer just a mind manipulator. Something darker had awakened in her. She had learned to channel her will into real threads, threads that could not be seen but that she felt running through her fingers. With them, he could control bodies as if they were broken puppets, forcing them to move with macabre grace.

He was said to have found an ancient ritual in a forgotten temple, that he had immersed himself in forbidden knowledge that allowed him to control the muscles and nerves of others as if they were extensions of his own body. Others said it was a curse, a penance for its manipulative nature. But the reality was much simpler: Kaira was the result of a world that had only shown her cruelty, and she had learned to return it with interest.

When she reappeared, she was wearing her characteristic black corset with red lace, an asymmetrical short skirt that revealed her agile and graceful movements, and long gloves that hid the scars of the rites she had performed on her own skin. His nails were sharp as claws, and his eyes, a hypnotic violet, seemed to peer into the soul of anyone who dared to hold his gaze.

Rumors about her abilities soon made her a myth among assassins and mercenaries. "The Puppeteer", they called her, a name that not only referred to her ability to manipulate people, but also to the way she made her enemies dance their last waltz before collapsing lifeless.

One day, a man named Sergei Volkhov found her in an abandoned mansion on the outskirts of Bangkok. He had been tracking him for weeks, intrigued by his reputation. When he saw her in action, he understood that the rumors were not exaggerated. In the center of a large room, three men hung by invisible threads, their bodies contorted into impossible positions as Kaira made them dance with an innocent smile on her lips.

"Shall we dance?" She asked, turning on her heel, her eyes shining with latent sadism.

Sergei didn't flinch. He was not a man who was easily frightened. Instead, he did something no one had ever done before: he smiled.

"I didn't come to dance. I came to make you a proposal.

Kaira tilted her head, curious.

"And what could you offer me that I can't take for myself?"

"War," he replied without hesitation.

The Puppeteer was silent for a moment, and then, for the first time in a long time, she laughed for real. A musical laugh, no malice, no sarcasm, just genuine fun.

"I like war," he whispered, as he dropped the three men to the ground like broken wrists.

And so, with a seductive smile and a new game ahead, Kaira Thompson decided to join a group of warriors who, like her, had been forged in the darkness of the world. Not for redemption, not for revenge, but because the war promised something that no puppet could give her: a story without ropes to bind her.

After all, even the best puppeteer needs some chaos to keep dancing.

"Kaira Thompson and Sergei Volkhov..." Ryuusei muttered as he read the names on the scroll.

Death smiled mockingly.

— Together. How convenient. Two birds with one stone.

Ryuusei closed the scroll with a snap and looked at his companion.

"Do you recommend me to go get them first?"

Death nodded slowly, his empty eyes reflecting an ominous gleam.

— Without a doubt. They are strong, but their biggest weakness is that they trust each other too much. If you take them by surprise, they will fall without even realizing it.

The wind blew harder, dragging dry leaves around it. Ryuusei exhaled calmly and adjusted the bandages on her knuckles.

"Then we'd better not give them time to react.

Death laughed softly.

"I like the way you think."