Ends of Trial [part 1]

**POV OF THE NANNY**

"I understand. I didn't expect them to be killed so easily, but I suppose it was inevitable."

**BACK TO ME**

As I prepared to leave the site of the massacre, a new idea began to germinate in my corrupted mind, fueled by the dark power coursing through me like poison.

It wasn't enough for me to have destroyed everything in that complex; my thirst for destruction was insatiable, and I knew there were still more victims in the world to hunt.

But before abandoning this kingdom of terror I had created, there was one last act of cruelty I wanted to commit.

The idea came to me to spend the rest of my days hunting, torturing, and slaughtering every single prisoner hidden on every floor, in every corner of this prison that seems forgotten by all.

Every thought, every breath, was a wicked whisper urging me to continue my work of destruction.

There would be no respite, no salvation for anyone.

Every prisoner, regardless of their crime, regardless of their innocence, would fall victim to my unstoppable fury and madness.

They would serve as my entertainment.

I began to descend into the depths of the complex, where the darkness was even thicker, and the air even heavier with fear and despair.

The walls seemed to close in around me, as if the building itself was aware of the evil permeating it. But nothing could stop me.

My thirst for blood was now too great.

So I began my descent into the depths of the complex, a place where the darkness was so dense it seemed tangible, and terror was now ingrained in the very air.

Every step I took echoed like a death knell, a herald of doom drawing inexorably closer.

My thirst for blood was insatiable, a dark fire burning within me, fueled by the screams and terror of my victims.

Each floor I crossed became a darker shadow in my descent into the abyss, and every step echoed with the heavy burden of imminent death.

My mind was now completely dominated by madness, a dark vortex driving me to seek more pain, more blood, more suffering.

I had become the executioner of that complex, a ruthless judge who knew no mercy, only the sweet euphoria of total destruction.

The first group of prisoners I encountered was on an intermediate floor, hidden in a waste storage room, among scraps of metal and empty containers.

They were weak, malnourished, their eyes ringed with fear and despair.

There was no doubt about their fate; they read it in my cold gaze.

One of them, a man with a gaunt face but eyes burning with rage, lunged at me with an improvised knife, convinced his fury could overpower me.

He shouted insults, convinced that his desperation would give him inhuman strength.

But his rage was nothing against the dark power coursing through me.

I blocked his attack with a fluid and precise movement, and before he could realize his mistake, I tore off his armed hand with a single strike.

Blood spurted like a geyser, splattering the walls and his companions, who cowered in terror.

There was no need for words; the fear in their eyes was already a confession of their helplessness.

I plunged my claws into his chest, ripping out his heart with a violent, swift gesture, letting his body fall like an empty sack.

The rest of the group had no chance.

My thirst for blood was insatiable, and one by one, I tore them apart, their screams quickly fading into choking gurgles.

Blood mixed with the waste on the floor, creating a horrific mixture of flesh and metal.

Every attempt at rebellion was extinguished in the pure violence of my fury.

I left them there, mutilated and lifeless bodies, a macabre monument to my ferocity.

I proceeded to the lower levels, where the light was almost nonexistent, and the darkness seemed to have a life of its own.

The next group of prisoners I found was better organized.

They had built barricades with beds and furniture, creating a sort of fort in their desperation.

I found them huddled behind those makeshift defenses, their trembling hands clutching weapons made from pieces of iron and wood, but in their eyes, there was only terror.

One of them, a young man with disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes, advanced toward me with a spiked club.

His gaze was full of false confidence, convinced that his courage could somehow break my power.

"Come on, monster!" he shouted, brandishing the weapon like a desperate man. "You'll end up like all the others! This is our territory!"

I didn't respond because there was no need for words.

My body moved with superhuman speed, and in an instant, I was in front of him.

The club came down in a lethal arc, but my reflex was too fast.

I dodged the blow, and with a single hand gesture, I grabbed the young man by the throat, lifting him off the ground as if he were a rag doll.

His courage melted into a strangled scream as my claws sank into his flesh.

I squeezed until I felt the bones give under the pressure.

With a fluid movement, I hurled him against the wall, his body hitting with a dull thud, leaving a bloodstain on the cold surface.

His companions, now terrified, abandoned any attempt at resistance.

I followed them into the darkness, hunting them like a predator chasing its prey.

I found them one by one, and one by one I slaughtered them, reveling in their suffering and despair.

Their blood stained my claws, their terror fueled my madness.

Every prisoner I encountered suffered the same fate.

There was no mercy in my actions, no respite in my hunt.

I was a being of pure violence, an unstoppable force that knew no limits.

I tortured them, killed them, tore them to pieces until no one was left breathing in that cursed complex.

In the end, when even the last prisoner was killed, when every single life had been brutally taken, I stopped.

The complex was a cemetery, a place of death and destruction.

But inside me, the void remained, unfillable, unstoppable.

My hunt was not over.

I had destroyed everything in that place, but I knew the world was full of other victims, other prey.

I prepared to leave that kingdom of terror, knowing I would continue my hunt until the end of my days here until I had consumed everything and everyone.

As I walked away from the remains of the massacre, an evil, mad laughter escaped my lips, a sound that echoed through the empty corridors, marking my passage.

And so, I prepared my next act of destruction, ready to cast my shadow over every corner of the world, leaving behind only death and desolation.