Tara stood over Ethan's unconscious form, her breath shallow and uneven. Silently, she grabbed his legs and dragged him to the corridor where she dumped his heavy body before proceeding to explore the house.

As she stepped into the only sparsely furnished room, she felt a wave of nausea wash over her. Swallowing down the bile rising in her throat, she remained frozen by the entrance. It contained only one large bed pushed against the wall in the middle. A rope hung off one of its corners, and the sheets looked eerily familiar.

Balling her shaking fists and clenching her jaw, Tara forced herself to return to Ethan. The mattress whined when she hauled him onto the bed. Swiftly, she undressed him, retrieved the ropes she had brought along, and tied each limb securely to a corner. She wanted him to drown in the humiliation of being exposed this way.

Then, she sat on a chair beside him and waited for him to wake up, her gaze unwavering and filled with a simmering intensity.

A forever passed before Ethan opened his eyes. Disoriented, he blinked fast, trying to clear his hazy brain. The ties tightened around his joints when he moved, fully restricting him.

"Took you long enough, sleeping beauty."

At the sound of her voice, Ethan whipped her way. Slowly, the previous events dawned on him and his face contorted into an ugly sneer. "I'll fucking kill you," he croaked.

Tara's giggles echoed through the room, a chilling contrast to the tense atmosphere. She leaned forward, amusement dancing in her eyes as Ethan struggled against the ropes, his attempts to attack her growing more desperate with each futile tug.

His screams filled the air, a cacophony of anger and frustration as he demanded to be released. But she only laughed harder.

Eventually, exhausted and defeated, he slumped against the bed, his cheeks flushed and his skin glistening with sweat. With a defiant glare, he could only watch helplessly as Tara remained unmoved.

"Are you done?"

Ethan lifted his head and spat at her, but it only resulted in a pathetic splatter near his head, eliciting a grin from Tara.

"Aw, I'll take that as a yes," she taunted, her gaze shifting to his lower half. "Now, my cute little fiancé, tell me everything you know about your friends."

He didn't react to her jab, for his initial bravado had faltered, replaced by desperate pleas as crocodile tears welled up in his eyes. He began to beg, his voice cracking, lips quivering, and snot dripping.

Tara clicked her tongue, her head shaking in disapproval. Then, their eyes locked. Something in hers made him freeze. "I won't harm you. I'll let you go too. If you want to stay alive, all you have to do is do as I say."

Ethan's throat tightened as the memory flooded back. He remembered those words all too well, the same ones he had uttered to her in a moment of cruel dominance. Now, faced with the reversal of power, he felt a cold chill run down his spine. He nodded slowly.

"Good," she said. "I need names and addresses."

With her phone placed between them, Tara sat back, crossing her legs as she waited for Ethan to spill the beans. And spill them he did, divulging every detail she demanded from him without hesitation.

When he finished, she stopped recording and shot him a wicked smile. "Let's go over that one more time."

Ethan's eyes widened, not anticipating this turn of events. Unluckily for him, Tara's obsession with crime movies and psychological thrillers gave her a strategic edge. He stammered, trying to get away from this situation.

His reaction confirmed her suspicions. He was unable to recall the details he'd initially disclosed.

Tara licked her lips, putting in her earphones. Ethan watched her retrieve a razor blade from her bag, its sharp edges glinting. Tension gripped his muscles and he held his breath when she leaned forward, her hand teasingly hovering over his genitalia.

Goosebumps erupted across his body when she whispered. "Go on. I'm waiting."

Ethan stuttered incoherently. When done, she listened to the recording to see if his statement matched his first confession.

It didn't.

Tara didn't have to tell him he was wrong. He already knew. The blade tickled his skin and she maintained eye contact while drawing a line that went from his hip bone to his belly button. Ethan tugged on the ropes, his stomach sinking in as he grunted and whimpered. Raising a brow, Tara blinked slowly. He was being too dramatic and this was just the beginning.

"Again."

Another lie. Another line.

Again, and again, and again...until crimson soaked the sheets beneath him. Ethan lay limp, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. Anger and despair brewed in his eyes. When her hand approached him once more, he flinched, anticipating the next wave of pain.

With her inner sadist satisfied, Tara settled back in the chair. "What would you do if, say, this went on for three days?"

Wide-eyed, he bucked in the bed, crying out, "No, no, no. Please, please, no!"

"Then, start talking." Tara sighed, unbothered by his frantic state. Numbness had overtaken every fiber of her body and she only cared about getting what she wanted. However, she was growing impatient. "Your little dude has already shrunk from the cold. It's small enough as it is."

Ethan bristled at the insult but was too emotionally and physically drained to retaliate. Instead, a shaky exhale tumbled out as he deflated. Tara had succeeded in breaking him. Gradually, he divulged every detail and information about the other four. This time, she didn't bother to follow with the previous recording. Instead, she started a new one.

When he finished, she clapped her hands with a grin, then extracted his phone from her pocket. "Awesome, now give me your password."

Reluctantly, he complied, watching her go through his device. His frown slowly morphed into an unabated rage as he realized she was confirming his words by checking his social media, messages, and contacts. "Are you fucking kidding me? You could've done this from the beginning!"

Tara spared him a glance before refocusing on the screen. "Well, what's revenge without a little fun?"

Her tone was colder than ice, chilling him to the bone. Goosebumps spread like wildfire all over his trembling body.

"Fun? Fun?" he spat. "You're a fucking monster."

Turning off the phone, she tossed it somewhere behind her and approached the bed in slow, measured steps. "You humiliated and killed me." Her fist thumped hard against her heart. "You ruined my life. You stole my dreams." Her eyes narrowed, her jaw ticking. "I'm what you made me. Filth teaches filth. You made me like this." She gestured to herself. "You created this monster that stands before you now. And I," she paused, leaning forward until her breath fanned his pallid face, "will become as monstrous as I must as long as I get to rid the world of your filth."

Ethan nearly fainted from holding his breath before words rushed out incoherently in a heavy exhale. He stammered for a reply.

Tara was tired from this conversation. She'd already gotten what she needed. Grabbing his forearm, she caressed his tense muscles. "You talk too much for someone who's about to die."

"Die?" he choked.

"People like you don't deserve to live."

The razor blade swiftly sliced through his wrist. He screamed and cursed, watching as she approached his other hand to repeat the same gruesome process. Ethan howled when the sharp weapon tore his skin, thrashing around and worsening his bleeding. Red gushed out in steady streams, rivers of impending death that failed to quench Tara's thirst for retribution.

After digging her finger into his wound, she headed to the wall and, with his blood, wrote: 1/5. Then, she turned and left the room, never once looking back.

The echoes of his screeches followed her, filling her ears all the way to the entrance where she paused to tuck her hair safely inside the hoodie.

Outside, darkness enveloped the world, the sky a pitch-black canvas devoid of stars or moonlight. Nothing dared perturb Tara as she made her way home. Streetlights flickered briefly before fading into nothingness, just as Ethan's life was extinguished.

The streets were deserted, with only the occasional howl of stray dogs piercing the silence of the night. Yet, she felt no fear.

Monsters had no room for such trivial emotions, after all.

Word count: 1422.

Total word count: 12459.

Second prompt✔ (95. "I will become as monstrous as I must.")

It's kinda sad seeing how much Tara's changed since the 1st chapter.