With all my strength, I lifted my leg and stomped all four inches of my high heel through the top of his foot. Before the giant could react with the knife, I sunk my teeth into the cockeyed dragon on his biceps and escaped his grip.

As I tried to flee, the heel of my shoe remained embedded in his foot, causing me to trip and land on top of Ms. Cardigan with a thud. The metallic taste of blood lingered on my injured tongue and for a second, I wasn't sure if the blood came from my mouth or the existing puddle.

His howls roared through my core and shook the walls of the cabin. "You bitch! I'll kill you—"

I scrambled over the body to put distance between me and the beast, and her thick, red fluid smeared on my palms and sundress. I took my other shoe in hand, tucking my fingers inside the tight toes of it to use the heel as the weapon as I had initially intended.

He aimed the tip of the knife toward my face, but the pain the heel caused became visible in the beads of sweat that streamed down his temples. With one step forward, he belted out in pain as the stiletto bobbed from the top of his shoe and foot, and stopped him in his tracks.

"Go on," I encouraged. "Finish your thought. You'll kill me, huh? Much like you killed those poor five women and the unfortunate man." I nodded when he attempted that menacing, crooked grin. "That's right, admit your sins."

"What do you think you're doing?" He chuckled through the pain, locking his eyes on me as if waiting for me to drop my awareness while keeping his up. "You may think you one-upped me, but you only made things worse for yourself. You know you're not getting out of here alive, don't you? I'm gonna do things to you that will have you begging me to take your life."

I tightened my grip on my makeshift weapon, readying myself in case my plans didn't work out. But I told myself to keep the faith that it would, and I held my ground.

I suspected he wanted to remove the high heel from the top of his foot, but didn't want me to catch him off guard, so he endured the pain and held his stance. "If only you knew the satisfaction I got from running down your dear Seb. I thought the thrill only came from watching the life drain from a woman's eyes, but good old Seb made me realize the thrill lies in taking a life no matter who's it is." He laughed manically, as if the adrenaline running through his veins provided a high. "It felt so good. I even saved the picture of his mangled corpse on my phone. Wanna see it? Come closer so I can give you an up-close-and-personal look. Come here." He limped forward, raising the knife.

I stepped back, nearly slipping on the bloody puddle beneath me. "Stay back or you'll regret it."

"Come on," he urged. "You made your bed. Now lie in it. Look around. There's nowhere to go. Might as well take pride in becoming the dragon's sixth red eye."

I backed away, raising the pointed heel of the shoe. "You're perturbed. Admit it."

He paused. "Now I applaud your determination, your investigative work about the dragon and all, but one thing you're wrong about is who I am. I'm no perturbed."

I gulped. "What if I told you I know more than you think I know?"

The question stumped him. His sweaty eyebrows dipped. "Are you stalling? You know this is gonna end one way and one way only. With you on top of the growing pile of dead bodies in this rotten shithole."

I ignored him and continued, "Like every game, law, or agreement, there are rules. And one thing I'm sure of is the rules of the perturbed. He said it himself," I gestured to Mouse's lifeless body. "There are two rules you must abide by..."

"Yeah?" He limped once, getting closer.

I went on, "First rule, do not talk about the perturbed to those who are ignorant of it."

His grin turned into a glower. "Come here."

"And the second rule, keep the faith." I tightened my grip on the high heel.

He huffed, and it came out like a snarl. "You think you're so smart, don't you? You know nothing."

I shook my head, disagreeing. "I knew you would talk me into getting naked. The only thing I had to do was let you see my toy and mention Seb, and I knew your mind would visit places it wasn't welcomed." I matched his energy and glared back. "You know what else I know? I knew I could convince you that you lost your faith. In fact, your doubt will soon hit you like a ton of bricks when I tell you that you've broken one of the sacred rules of the Perturbed, Frank Miller."

"So, you've done your homework." He stepped again, grimacing in pain as the stiletto agitated the wound. "You might have figured out my name, but I'll never be at your mercy."

"Oh, but you're wrong." I sniffed away the snot that ran from my nose. "You just revealed that you are Perturbed with your admission to taking a picture of Seb's dead body. So you've broken one of the two sacred rules: never lose faith, and never talk about the Perturbed."

He finally paused and his brows dip at the realization. The moment his doubt came speeding in like a Mac truck to the heart was apparent in his body language. The language I've become an expert at reading. In that split second, whatever protection he thought he had was now gone.

As if on cue, the light flickered, casting us in a brief blackness. He must've thought the lights would distract me, as he bent to yank the high heel from his foot. In that moment, I swung my weapon with such ferocity the heel of the shoe punctured the back of his neck with a violent crunch, embedding itself in the bone and muscle.

He immediately slumped forward, taking the shoe with him as he fell on top of the two bodies. I half expected him to get up and fight, but quickly realized he was no longer a threat when the knife slipped from his limp fingertips.

The light went bright, illuminating the space in a steady glow.

With heavy breaths, I slid along the back wall to get a better look at his face. His head rested in an unnatural position to the side. His eyes followed me as I shifted along the wall, but his lips and every other part of his body didn't move. The angle of his head and body told me he would never get up. The shoe protruded from the base of his neck and gravity pulled the thick trickle of blood along the same path as his sweat, stopping at his temple.

I took a second to collect myself and checked the clock on my phone that displayed fifteen minutes after the hour. As I moved around the room, his eyes followed me. I was sure he had plenty to say, but could not say it.

"I assume you'd like to know why?" I shook my head. "Justice is hard to come by when people like you use their power to evade it. You murdered Seb three months ago, only a block from here. Hit by your truck and exploited by these two who took pictures and video of him for an offering. That's three months without justice or accountability."

I gulped, gathering my thoughts. "I used to tell myself that although I wouldn't forget, maybe I could forgive. I repeated that over and over to make myself believe it. But now I must be honest with myself and with you, too. I lied."

My voice shook as I spoke, and this time, I didn't conceal it. "One thing I learned is those who call themselves 'fortunate,' 'lucky,' or 'Perturbed' can often get away with anything. Those hotshots pay off anyone who tries to enforce punishment, but the special assholes exchange their souls for protection, luck, and fortune. In either case, the desire to do the right thing becomes weaker as they realize they can do whatever they want. Before you know it, you callously put other people's lives and livelihoods in jeopardy. But today is my lucky day because justice is finally served. Sure, I had to play dirty to win a dirty game, but it was worth it."

I went to the corner where my items were and gathered up a set of lingerie. "Sure, Seb loved these clothes." I picked up the pink toy along with some other items and stuffed it all back into the bag. "But I knew you would love them more. It would surprise you how much someone can learn and arrange in three months. The things I sacrificed to get information, details. Things that would have put you all behind bars if you were average joes. I'm sure Seb would be proud of my determination."

I wiped tears and snot from my face with the back of my hand. "If I could tell him anything right now, I would say we could have raised a family and had the life we dreamed of without playing the Perturbed game. It would have taken longer and more effort, but I believed in us. I'm sorry you struggled with your faith and lost it all. Letting me go didn't have to be part of that loss. I would have loved you, Seb, the same, if not more, even without the promotion or fancy apartment. You didn't need that for me to fall in love with you. All you had to do was walk into my museum and catch me when I fell into your arms."

I grabbed another clean dress from my pile, and as I changed out of my filthy one, I rambled on, "And Ms. Cardigan or Cindy, if I could tell you anything, I would let you know that your fate was inevitable. You couldn't hold your secret to save your life. For that reason, and the part you played in filming Seb's death, it led you exactly where you are. Plus, that shove you gave me in the lobby erased any trace of sympathy I had for you."

After slipping the dress on, I used the soiled one to clean the remaining red from my arms and legs. "Cesar, your lack of faith really didn't get you far, but neither did your picture of Seb suffering. I hope you all understand I only did what I had to do, for Seb's sake. You may call it revenge, I call it justice, and hopefully you had your moment to get your confessions off your chest and maybe that gave you peace, even if briefly."

The toppled giant watched me. His eyes followed my every move, and his mouth twitched at the corners.

I kneeled to retrieve my shoe from the back of his neck. With a few tugs, his head bobbled like a rag doll until the shoe released. I grabbed the other and slipped them back on my feet. While crouching, my fingers grazed the knife before I palmed it. The edge of the blade held remnants of dried blood. And as much as the gore in the space disturbed me, I put all the gruesome sights to the back of my mind.

Standing before the fallen giant, I dangled the knife from my fingers, the tip of the blade pointed downward. "Two options," I started. "I can either walk out of here, leaving you to suffer in this state, much like you all did to my Seb. Or I can show you mercy and put you out of your misery." I glanced at the knife. "Blink if you prefer the latter."

I crouched to get a better look at his face. His eyes were wide, and eyebrows pulled up with such tension, his forehead wrinkled. Although his gaze stayed on mine and didn't divert to my dress as I assumed they would, I pulled the hem over my knees for privacy. I cocked my head, awaiting his signal. Seconds crept by, ten, fifteen, twenty, and finally at the half minute mark I got my answer.

I palmed the handle and without a second thought, down came the blade. Its ultimate resting place lay somewhere between his collarbone and his Adam's apple. I wiped the warm spatter from my face with the back of my hand, hoisted the strap of the overnight bag on my shoulder, and stood before the control panel.

When the light above flickered, I pressed the button to the ground floor and held onto the handrail when the cabin shifted. It finally made its descent.

I dug through my bag to retrieve what the big man had dubbed my "weird portable charger." And attached it to the end of my phone, no cord necessary. After lifting the phone to snap a selfie with the view of the macabre carnage behind me, a small picture slid from the slit of the attached portable printer. The serrated edges of the square photo reminded me of the one Ms. Cardigan kept in her wallet alongside her precious items.

"For the record—" I tucked the picture, phone, and its components back into my bag. "I would never harm someone's granddaughter, especially an innocent child." I paused. "Oh, and if you ever thought me sharing my name leaves me at your mercy, you should know my real name isn't Tasha. Seb vowed to name our first daughter for a reason."

The elevator chimed when it reached the ground floor. I took a deep breath, the last of the ammonia and body odor stagnant air, and awaited the doors to open. The bright lights, the lonely halls, and crisp, clean linoleum floors welcomed me.

I stepped over the threshold, wobbling slightly in my high heels—the heels I only wore for special occasions—and made my way toward the exit and past the security guard who remained too preoccupied with the malfunctioned security footage to issue me a proper goodbye.

THE END

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