Revenge

As Zadkiel rushed back towards the village, his heart pounded with a mix of fear and fury. The memories of the night before were fresh in his mind, the screams of the innocent, the taunts of the villagers, and the bloodshed that had soaked the ground. But nothing could have prepared him for what he saw next.

There, hanging from a twisted tree at the village's outskirts, **was his daughter, Amara**. Her small, fragile body swayed gently in the breeze, her eyes closed, her face pale and lifeless. The rope dug into her delicate neck, her once-vibrant spirit extinguished by the very people he had called neighbors.

**Zadkiel fell to his knees**, his hands trembling as they reached out towards her but stopped short, unable to change the cruel reality in front of him. His voice cracked as he screamed, "Damn it! DAMN IT! DAMN IT! DAMN IT!" Tears of blood streamed from his eyes, his hands clenched so tightly his nails pierced his own skin.

"**Why?**" he gasped, his voice raw with agony. "**Why did it have to come to this? Why her?**"

In that moment of despair, **something dark stirred within him again**. The same power that had erupted the night before now began to surge again, only stronger. **Black lightning** coiled around his body, sparking wildly as his grief twisted into something far darker—**an uncontrollable rage**.

Zadkiel stood, his body trembling with the sheer force of the power now coursing through his veins. His eyes burned with hatred as he marched back towards the village, the ground beneath him crackling as if the earth itself feared his wrath.

---

When Zadkiel entered the village, the air became heavy, almost suffocating. **He saw them—the people who had taken everything from him**—going about their day as if nothing had happened, as if the blood of his children, his wife, and the innocents hadn't stained their hands.

He didn't hesitate.

His hand shot forward, and **black lightning erupted from his fingers**, striking the first villager in sight. Their body convulsed violently as the dark energy tore through them, their skin bubbling and blackening before they collapsed to the ground, **dead before they could even scream**.

The villagers froze, terror sweeping across their faces. Some began to scream, others tried to run, but there was no escape. Zadkiel moved with the precision of a predator, his power fueled by his sorrow and rage.

**A mother and her child** ran for cover, their faces contorted in fear. Zadkiel's eyes, once filled with compassion, now glowed with cold hatred. **The black lightning struck**, and their bodies were reduced to ash in an instant, their cries silenced in a flash of destruction.

"**Run!**" one of the men screamed, trying to flee. Zadkiel leapt forward, **grabbing him by the throat**, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. The man begged for his life, his eyes wide with terror, but Zadkiel's grip tightened. With a simple twist of his wrist, he snapped the man's neck, his body crumpling lifelessly to the ground.

There was **no mercy** in Zadkiel's heart. The villagers tried to escape, but the black lightning arced across the sky, raining death upon them all. **One man's body exploded into a shower of blood and bone**, his limbs torn apart by the sheer force of Zadkiel's power. **Another woman, screaming in terror, was caught mid-step as the dark energy surged through her**, leaving nothing but a charred, hollow shell where she had stood.

As the bodies piled up, **the sky grew darker**, almost as if it was mourning the tragedy unfolding below. **Zadkiel didn't stop**. He hunted them down, one by one, slaughtering them as they screamed, as they begged for forgiveness, for mercy—mercy he would never give.

**Villagers ran towards the forest**, desperate to escape, but Zadkiel's power was unstoppable. He raised his hand, and the trees themselves were **obliterated by a wave of dark energy**, leaving no shelter for those who thought they could flee his wrath. The fleeing men and women were **ripped apart**, their bodies torn asunder by the dark storm Zadkiel had become.

---

When the final scream died out, and the last villager lay dead at his feet, Zadkiel stood in the center of the carnage, surrounded by a sea of blood and corpses. The village was no more—**reduced to ashes**, with not a single soul left alive.

His breath came in ragged gasps, the power within him slowly receding, but the rage, the sorrow, and the hatred still burned deep in his chest.

He had **slaughtered them all**—the very people who had once welcomed him into their lives, the people who had betrayed him and his family. But even as he stood there, surrounded by their lifeless bodies, there was no peace, no satisfaction.

Zadkiel looked up at the sky, his fists still clenched, and with a voice trembling with the weight of his grief and rage, he whispered, "**I will make the world pay for this... every last one of them.**"

As Zadkiel stood amidst the ruins of the village, his mind was clouded with rage and betrayal. The air was thick with the scent of death and ash, and the silence was suffocating. But then, in the distance, he heard the distinct sound of marching—**an army**. Their heavy footfalls reverberated through the earth, growing louder with each step.

Emerging from the smoke and shadows was an army of soldiers, their armor gleaming in the dim light, their weapons at the ready. At the front of the formation stood Lira, his wife, the woman who had orchestrated everything.

Her voice was sweet, too sweet, as she called out to him, "Please, Zadkiel, **we don't want to hurt you**. Come back to us."

Her words dripped with insincerity, and her eyes, once warm and loving, now gleamed with the cold light of betrayal. The soldiers surrounding him raised their bows, arrows notched and ready to fire at a moment's notice.

Zadkiel stood motionless, his gaze fixed on Lira. His body trembled—not with fear, but with the weight of his fury and the realization of the depths of her treachery. For a moment, everything seemed to stand still. The world around him blurred, and all he could see was **her**—the woman he had once loved, now responsible for his agony.

Zadkiel's voice came out soft at first, barely a whisper. "**Hurt me?**"

He thought of his children. He thought of the villagers who had spat on him, his daughter's lifeless body hanging from that cursed tree, the friends who had betrayed him, and the love that had been twisted into something dark and malevolent. His thoughts swirled in a maelstrom of pain and anger until it was too much to bear.

His voice rose, trembling with emotion, **"HURT ME?!"**

His fists clenched, the black lightning began to crackle around him once more, wild and unrestrained. His eyes burned with fury, and the ground beneath him started to quake. The soldiers hesitated, some taking a step back as the raw power radiated off of him, but Lira held her ground, still feigning concern.

Zadkiel roared, his voice echoing through the village ruins, "YOU WILL NEVER HURT ME AGAIN!"

---

**The soldiers moved**.

The archers released their arrows, the sound of their strings snapping in unison like a thunderclap. **Zadkiel raised his hand**, and the black lightning surged outward, catching the arrows in midair and incinerating them into dust before they could reach him.

Then the soldiers charged.

They came at him in waves, their swords gleaming as they rushed toward him, but Zadkiel was faster. **His body became a blur**, moving with unnatural speed as he dodged their attacks, his fists and feet moving with deadly precision.

The first soldier swung his blade, aiming for Zadkiel's neck. **Zadkiel caught the sword mid-swing**, twisting it out of the soldier's grip before plunging it into the man's chest. The soldier gasped, blood spurting from his mouth as he collapsed to the ground, dead before he hit the dirt.

Another soldier lunged at him, sword raised high. **Zadkiel sidestepped the attack**, driving his fist into the man's stomach. The soldier doubled over in pain, and without hesitation, Zadkiel grabbed the soldier's head and **twisted sharply**, the sickening crack of bones echoing through the air as the man fell lifeless to the ground.

**Arrows flew at him again**, but Zadkiel was relentless. His hand shot out, and he caught one of the arrows in mid-flight, spinning it around before throwing it back with incredible force. The arrow pierced through the chest of an archer, sending him tumbling to the ground in a pool of blood.

A group of soldiers surrounded him, attacking all at once. **Zadkiel leapt into the air**, spinning as he delivered a devastating kick to one soldier's head, snapping his neck instantly. As he landed, he grabbed another by the throat, lifting him off the ground before **slamming him into the earth with such force** that the ground cracked beneath them.

Another soldier came at him from behind, but **Zadkiel spun around**, grabbing the man's arm and snapping it with a brutal twist. The soldier screamed in agony, but Zadkiel silenced him by driving his elbow into the man's throat, crushing his windpipe. The soldier collapsed, choking on his own blood.

The battlefield became a storm of **blood, screams, and death**. Zadkiel's movements were fluid, precise, and unstoppable. **He disarmed one soldier after another**, slashing through their armor, breaking their bones, tearing through flesh as if they were nothing more than paper. **Blood splattered across his face**, his body covered in the remnants of those who dared to stand against him.

**A soldier ran at him, spear raised**, but Zadkiel caught the spear mid-thrust and snapped it in half. He grabbed the broken shaft and drove it through the man's skull, blood spraying as the soldier fell lifeless to the ground. Another came from his left, and Zadkiel swung the spear like a club, **cracking the soldier's skull open** in one brutal swing.

Arrows rained down from the remaining archers, but **Zadkiel moved like a shadow**, dodging each one with ease. He grabbed one of the archers by the neck, lifting him high before **slamming him into the ground**, bones shattering on impact. Without a moment's pause, Zadkiel threw the archer's body at the remaining soldiers, knocking them to the ground.

In a final surge of rage, Zadkiel's **black lightning exploded outward**, consuming the remaining soldiers in a storm of death. Their bodies convulsed violently as the dark energy coursed through them, **flesh burning, bones snapping**, until they were nothing but charred remains, their screams drowned out by the crackling of the dark power.

---

**When the last soldier fell**, Zadkiel stood in the center of the carnage, his body heaving with exertion. Blood dripped from his hands, his clothes soaked in the gore of those who had fallen before him. **He looked up**, his eyes locking onto Lira, who stood frozen in shock and fear.

She had tried to play him, tried to lead him to his death, but now she saw what he had become. **He was no longer the man she once knew**—he was something far more dangerous, something far more powerful.

And as the black lightning crackled around him, **Zadkiel began to walk toward her**, his face a mask of cold, unrelenting fury.

As Zadkiel began to advance toward Lira, each of his footsteps echoed in the now silent and blood-soaked battlefield. The once proud soldiers lay dead or dying around him, and the stench of blood and charred flesh filled the air. His rage burned like an inferno inside him, but his face remained cold and emotionless.

Lira stood frozen, her once confident demeanor shattered. She had orchestrated everything, confident in her control over him. But now, as she faced the man she had betrayed, the depth of her mistake became painfully clear. **This was no longer the loving husband** she had deceived for so many years. **This was a monster she had created.**

Her voice wavered as she tried to speak, her facade crumbling. "Z-Zadkiel, please... I did it for us. I... I was trying to—"

Before she could finish her sentence, **Zadkiel's hand shot out**, grabbing her by the throat and lifting her off the ground. Her words turned into gasps as her hands clawed at his arm, desperately trying to free herself from his iron grip.

**Zadkiel's eyes** glowed with the malevolent energy coursing through him. His voice was low and menacing, vibrating with barely contained fury. "You... did this to me. To our children. You made me into this."

Lira's face turned red as she struggled for breath, her legs kicking uselessly. "P-please... I—"

**Zadkiel tightened his grip**, his rage boiling over. "You destroyed everything I loved!" His voice was thunderous, filled with a deep, consuming hatred.

For a moment, he hesitated. He thought of the life they had built, of the love they once shared. But that love had been twisted, poisoned by her betrayal. And now, standing before him, she was no longer his wife—**she was the embodiment of his suffering**.

With a snarl, **Zadkiel hurled her to the ground**, her body hitting the dirt with a sickening thud. She gasped for air, coughing and sputtering, but she had no time to recover. Zadkiel's black lightning flared around him, and with a flick of his hand, he sent a bolt of energy crashing into her, sending her flying into the remains of a stone wall. The impact left her dazed, blood dripping from her mouth.

Lira, trembling and terrified, managed to push herself to her knees. She tried to speak, her voice weak and broken. "Zadkiel... I... I love you. Please, don't do this."

Zadkiel stood over her, his face twisted with rage and pain. "Love?" He spat the word, his voice filled with venom. "You don't know what love is. If you loved me, you wouldn't have torn apart everything I cared for."

Lira reached out weakly, her eyes filled with tears. "I... I can make it right. We can still be together."

Zadkiel shook his head slowly. There was no going back, not after everything she had done. "No. We're far beyond that."

Without another word, **Zadkiel raised his hand**, and the black lightning crackled around him, coiling like serpents ready to strike. Lira's eyes widened in horror as she realized what was about to happen.

"Goodbye, Lira," Zadkiel whispered, his voice cold and final.

With a surge of dark energy, **Zadkiel unleashed the full force of his power**, sending a devastating wave of black lightning directly into Lira's body. She screamed, her voice piercing the night as the energy consumed her. Her body convulsed violently, her skin searing, her bones cracking under the immense pressure of the attack.

In mere moments, **her screams fell silent**. Her body collapsed to the ground, lifeless, her once beautiful form now a charred husk, unrecognizable. The woman who had orchestrated his downfall, who had betrayed him so completely, was gone.

Zadkiel stood there, breathing heavily as the black lightning slowly dissipated. The silence that followed was deafening. **His rage had subsided**, leaving behind only the hollow emptiness of his grief and loss. He stared down at what remained of Lira, but there was no satisfaction, no sense of victory—only an aching emptiness.

He turned away from her body, his eyes scanning the remnants of the village he had once called home. The fires still smoldered, the bodies of those he had slaughtered scattered around him. **He had nothing left.**

Zadkiel began to walk, his footsteps heavy as he left behind the carnage he had wrought. The weight of everything he had lost—his children, his friends, his wife—pressed down on him, suffocating him with its intensity.

But as he walked, a new resolve began to form within him. **He had survived**. He had been betrayed, broken, and torn apart, but he was still alive. And now, with nothing left to lose, he would make the world pay for what it had done to him.

Zadkiel clenched his fists, the black lightning flickering once more around him.

"I will **never** stop hunting them. All of them," he muttered, his voice low and filled with dark purpose. "They will pay."

Zadkiel stood over his two surviving sons, their frail forms trembling as they attempted to speak. Their faces were gaunt, eyes hollow and filled with unspeakable pain. Seven months of unimaginable abuse had left them emotionally and mentally broken. Their lips parted as if to say something, but only faint, cracked sounds escaped—words lost in the abyss of their shattered minds.

"F-Father..." one of them rasped, his voice barely audible.

Zadkiel knelt down, gently placing a hand on each of their shoulders. He looked into their distant, vacant eyes, and for the first time in years, he felt a deep, overwhelming sadness. These were his sons, the boys he had loved and raised, now reduced to this... and it was all because of those who had betrayed him.

The weight of his sorrow crushed him, but he knew what had to be done. He couldn't stay with them—not like this. His presence was a constant reminder of the pain they had endured. **They deserved to live, to heal**... away from him.

"You are free now," Zadkiel whispered, his voice low and pained. "No one will ever hurt you again."

His sons blinked slowly, as if trying to understand, but the light in their eyes had long since faded. They barely reacted as Zadkiel helped them stand on their shaky legs, guiding them to a safe place nearby.

After making sure they could walk on their own, Zadkiel stood back. His heart felt like it was breaking all over again. He wanted to say something more, anything that could give them a spark of hope, but the words wouldn't come.

He took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper. "Live. Live for yourselves."

And then, in a flash of black lightning, **he was gone**, disappearing into the night without a trace.

His two sons stood there, alone, their broken spirits barely able to process what had happened. They didn't cry, didn't scream. **They just stood in the silence**—the last fragments of a shattered family left behind as their father vanished, consumed by vengeance.