Dissection of a Bully: A Sister's Dark Revenge Chapter 1

After my sister was bullied to death, I claimed the souls of her tormentors and meticulously crafted a terrifying game for them.

I set the rules: only the victor could escape. So, they eagerly snatched up blades, plunging them mercilessly into their companions' chests.

A mist of blood coated the room, and the winner strutted out, head held high.

Behind him, the mangled remains slowly reassembled, re-forming.

The one who’d already drawn their last breath crawled out of the blood-soaked floor, chasing after the victor.

The door closed.

The door opened.

The tormentors met again, their bodies fresh, ready to begin a new round of slaughter.

They would feel pain, they would feel death, they would be reborn, but they would never escape this horrific game.

I am an Envoy of the Ghost King, traversing the realms of the living and the dead, specializing in escorting souls.

Because of this authority, I could occasionally roam the mortal world.

I often lingered near my sister, the one I worried about most.

She hadn't been doing well for the past two years.

She spent three years of her life and countless hours studying day and night, just to step into the halls of university.

But what awaited her wasn't a bright, warm future, but cold, bloody bullying.

My sister was beautiful, but sometimes, beauty alone is a death sentence.

Because of her looks, a privileged jerk, Damian Thorne, set his sights on her, demanding she be his girlfriend.

My sister refused. She thought such things required mutual consent.

But Damian wasn't willing to let go of an easy target. After several failed attempts to corner her, he became enraged. From then on, he launched a two-year campaign of vengeful bullying against her.

They used compromising photos of her to threaten her against calling the police.

My sister could only secretly confide in her university advisor, but even the advisor didn't dare cross someone with money and power.

So, clutching a final shred of hope, my sister called our parents.

All she got was a chilling scolding: "Why are they *only* picking on you and not anyone else? You must be the problem!"

Isolated and helpless, my sister despaired. She could only swallow her bitterness and pain, silently praying for graduation day to arrive quickly.

But she would never make it.