Running. Panting. Looking back. But they were still there. Whoever they were. They were still there.

He couldn't run. He couldn't hide. No matter where he went, the hounding footsteps were always at his heels, searching, looking, hunting for him.

He wanted to know who did this, and why the person did this. He searched his memory for a possible, powerful enemy. But there couldn't be. He'd been careful all through his school days, and later, in society. Who'd want him dead so badly?


His family. Damn. He wasn't so careful where he should have been most. But now came the question 'who'.

It couldn't be his parents. His father was well-connected, yes, but how could he possibly influence so many people to constantly dog his footsteps for blasted mystified reasons? Between his mother and younger sister, they couldn't even tell their head from their arses. So this left him only with… his elder sister. Oh damn, oh damn, oh damn. She was smarter than he gave her credit for. And now, he suppose, he was about to pay for every insult he ever threw at her.

In the shadows, a young woman smiled wickedly as she witnessed her brother's panicked demeanour. She, too, could hear the ever-so-near footsteps now coming closer and closer, searching for the young man in front of her, who was only a year younger than she. Satisfied, she turned her back and walked away. Now to check on my other… family members. She smirked at the irony of the last part. Oh, they'd be sorry that they made my life hell. They'd be sorry they crossed my path and made the wrong enemy. Now they will have a taste of their own medicine and witness their own downfall. All because they bullied a person they shouldn't have.

Revenge is sweet indeed, she smiled as she disappeared around a corner, her cloak billowing behind her, and best served cold and merciless on a silver platter.

– Finis –