Chapter 136: The Woman Behind the Betrayal
After ensuring everything was in place at home, Steven stepped out the door with his gun holstered, a determined glint in his eyes. There was unfinished business that required his immediate attention.
As he moved through the building, the corridors echoed with a hollow silence. The place was deserted, with most of the tenants out for a barbecue. Only two apartments remained occupied, their inhabitants unaware of the impending confrontation.
Steven arrived at the door of one such apartment: Ivy and Alice’s former residence. He calmly pulled out his handgun, fired two precise shots at the lock, and then kicked the door open with a forceful thrust.
With a riot shield gripped in his left hand and the gun ready in his right, Steven strode into the room. It was cloaked in shadows, and so he flicked on his headlamp, transforming the dim space into a brightly lit arena.
A sudden scream pierced the silence as a disheveled woman, wild-eyed and clutching a kitchen knife, lunged at Steven. Unflinching, Steven raised the riot shield, easily deflecting the feeble attack. The woman stumbled backward and crashed to the floor.
He turned his gaze to her, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. "Long time no see, Alice."
The headlamp spotlighted her gaunt, filthy face, causing her to squint in discomfort. Alice looked like a specter, blood-smeared and grease-streaked, her skin a sallow, mottled pallor.
The room exuded a vile stench, the floor cluttered with bones, and in one corner lay a half-eaten corpse. From the tattered remains of clothing, Steven recognized it as Ivy’s body.
"No wonder you've hung on this long; cannibalism, now that's true friendship," Steven sneered.
Alice, shielding her eyes from the harsh light, recognized Steven and let out a venomous scream. "Steven, why aren’t you dead? Why! Those imbeciles couldn’t even kill you. They were worthless!"
Steven chuckled mockingly. "Stupid woman, did you really think that conspiring with Samuel and turning Walter and Dennis against me would succeed? You’re pathetically naïve! With that brain, no wonder you’re always being used as a pawn."
It was she who had tipped off Samuel, leading him to ambush Steven in the snow. She had also manipulated Dennis and Walter to join Samuel and Owen in their botched attack on him. Alice was adept at scheming, using her wiles to control the men around her.
"Steven, I hate you! All my suffering is because of you!" Alice, knowing revenge was hopeless, vented her emotions hysterically.
"Why did you abandon me after pursuing me for two and a half years?" she continued, her voice cracking with rage and desperation. "You betrayed me! You couldn’t endure a simple test, and you dare claim to love me?"
"If you’d just held on a bit longer, I would have married you!" she cried. "But you left me for that harlot Elinor! I despise you both! I wish I could murder you and that bitch with my own hands!"
Alice's anger reached a fever pitch as she charged at Steven again. This time, Steven didn't bother with his gun; he lifted the riot shield and sent her sprawling to the ground with a disdainful shove.
"Bitch, you're shameless," he spat.
With nothing more to say to a woman whose every thought twisted reality, Steven holstered his gun and took out a crowbar. He marched up to Alice, who lay on the floor, seething and defeated.
With a grim resolution, he brought the crowbar down on her wrists and calves. The sickening crack of bone breaking filled the room as Alice's frail body gave way.
The crisp sound of breaking bones blended with her sharp screams, eerily harmonizing like a discordant symphony. Alice writhed in agony, her defiance crumbling.
Tears streaming down her face, she begged Steven, "Please, Steven, don't kill me! I don't want to die! Spare me, I’ll do anything!"
But Steven remained silent, his jaw set in a cold line. He grabbed her hair and dragged her to the window amidst her desperate pleas.
With methodical precision, he used the crowbar to smash the security bars on the balcony. Alice instantly realized his intent: he was going to throw her from the eighth floor! She knew that she would either be crushed by the fall or freeze to death in the relentless snow.
Tears and snot smeared her face as she cried out in desperation, "Steven, please! I’ll do anything! I was wrong, I swear!"
Steven listened to her pitiful voice, his sense of satisfaction perversely heightened. Memories of a past life flashed before him—her pitiful demeanor, her tearful pleas as she begged him to open the door, only to lead him into a vicious trap.
"This is what you deserve!" Steven laughed.
He put away the crowbar, pulling out a sharp knife instead. In front of her terrified eyes, he sliced through her clothes, leaving her exposed. Moments later, Alice lay before him, trembling like a snow-white lamb—though this lamb was skeletal, her bones grotesquely prominent beneath her skin.
Shivering from the cold, her lips turned purple, and desperate, she offered, "I’ll give myself to you, just let me live."
Steven stared at her for a moment, a sigh of disappointment escaping his lips. "You're as thin as a stick, with a chest like a washboard. What’s the point?"
With a bitter chuckle, he tore her clothes further, reveling in the humiliation. He had once desired this woman, had yearned for her body during the two years he’d chased after her. Now, the sight of her filled him with revulsion.
Grabbing her frail ankle, he lifted her upside down, her screams echoing through the empty apartment. She dangled like a broken doll, pathetic and grotesque.
Steven's face twisted in disgust, mingled with a perverse sense of pleasure. His eyes fell upon the knife in his hand, but he hesitated to stain the Swiss-made blade. Instead, he scanned the room and picked up a sharp, broken bone from the floor—perhaps it once belonged to Paul.
With a twisted smile, he glanced at Alice, her terror palpable. Another shrill scream tore from her throat as she squirmed in his grip, her struggles futile.
Satisfied, he hurled her out the window. The freezing temperatures would be a cruel final experience. Steven peered down, observing the human-shaped imprint she left in the snow below.
He sighed, "Am I too kind? Perhaps letting her die this quickly was too merciful."
If he had more time, he might have enjoyed torturing her slowly, savoring each moment of her suffering. But there were too many tasks at hand, too many people to eliminate.
Steven turned away, leaving the horrific scene behind. "I really am a kind person," he muttered to himself as he walked out of the room, a wry smile playing on his lips.
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