Tara chewed on her lip as she made her way through the corridors of her university. Nausea gnawed at her insides, stress ruining her appetite. The weight of the day bore down on her, leaving her drained from maintaining a facade of normalcy among her fellow students.

Though her mind struggled to focus, she had to attend her classes. The anticipation of returning home to execute her next revenge fueled her throughout the day, her mind wandering to the intricate details of her plan.

With Nathan's revelation and subsequent demise, the police swiftly connected the dots between all three incidents. It appeared he hadn't provided enough information before his passing, prompting authorities to implement extra security measures around the city, blindly searching for her. Police cars often patrolled their neighborhood, working tirelessly to uncover any additional clues that could lead them to the perpetrator and the remaining two targets.

"Like that's going to stop me," Tara mumbled, nibbling on a granola bar while heading home. With a childlike swing of her arm, she pressed on, undeterred by the increased difficulty. Instead, she found it challenging—a game of cat and mouse with the law meant to protect and avenge her but now standing in her way. "The irony," she scoffed, quelling the roaring anger within her.

She had better plans than lamenting the lack of help she got.

Once home, Tara started getting ready, painting her face before styling her hair. After clipping on fake bangs, she added extensions to give her hair more length and volume. Then, she stuffed her bra and squeezed into a tight corset. Though she had ensured her head was always down and her disguise was meticulous, the police might've caught a glimpse of her in the surrounding cameras around the café. 

Two months had passed since the kidnapping, however, so no matter how hard the authorities were working, Tara was working harder.

Shimmying into a short, glittery dress, she stood before her mirror, scrutinizing her reflection. Hollow eyes stared back at her, devoid of the spark they once held. The sight tore at her heart, but she refused to let despair consume her. Instead, a fierce determination surged within her, fueled by the desire for retribution.

Shaking her head to dispel any lingering negativity, Tara's lips curled into a smirk. "Daniel Mitchell, let's fucking party."

Daniel Mitchell always reeked of alcohol whenever it was his turn to ravage her. He was a religious, heavy partygoer, and a devoted carouser. His social media was full of blurred selfies and shaky videos of him dancing, drinking, or screaming his lungs out to whatever song the DJ played.

However, the recent incidents cast a dark cloud over his once carefree lifestyle, the threat of danger tainting his debauchery. It also didn't help that Tara had been secretly planting rumors about him in all the places he frequented, erasing the endless stream of girls hanging onto his broad shoulders and his father's wealth. The shadow of fear and boredom now loomed over his life, disrupting his nights of revelry and forcing chastity upon him.

Tara scrunched up her nose in distaste as she made her way through the pulsating crowd of the club, her eyes fixed on Daniel's slouching figure. Determined, she squared her shoulders and attempted to blend in, mingling with random strangers to maintain her cover.

When he made his way to the bar, her shoulders hunched involuntarily, trying to appear inconspicuous as he stood beside her, ordering an extensive tray of shots. With a quiet exhale, she straightened up before leaning lazily across the counter.

Tara giggled, feigning drunkenness as she tried to engage Daniel in conversation. "You must be here with a big group," she said innocently, hiding the jab at his isolation behind her playful demeanor.

Daniel glanced at her, quickly assessing her attractiveness. Whether out of desperation or genuine interest, he leaned in with a smirk. "I'm flying solo tonight, but it's pretty lonely." His pout made her cringe inwardly. "Wanna join me? You could help cheer me up, and I'll repay you for your kindness, beautiful."

She awed before playing along with his advances. "You're such a sweetheart. Lead the way, handsome."

"I like that, but call me Daniel," he grinned, though the expression seemed unsettling against the backdrop of his reputation. She knew fully well the monster that lurked beneath the surface. He extended his elbow, and her hand trembled slightly as she accepted the gesture. "Your name?"

"Tara," she replied, flashing him a smile as real as her name and the ominous promise concealed within her truth: You won't live long enough to remember or share it.

"Are you new to town, Tara? I don't recall seeing you around. I don't think I'll miss a gorgeous lady like you." He winked at her, attempting to trap her under his charm.

Her heart clenched, and her jaw ticked. Forcing a laugh, she said, "No, maybe you haven't been paying enough attention. I'm pretty unnoticeable, you see."

Daniel chuckled, brushing her remark with a shake of his head. "I must've been blind."

"Maybe." 

After returning to his table, it wasn't long before Daniel was hammered. While he downed drink after drink, Tara sipped slowly on her soda, luring him deeper into intoxication with her charming tales and seductive demeanor.

When his hand landed atop her knee, she froze, her breath catching in her throat. She leaned in, whispering in his ear, "Should we take this somewhere else?"

Daniel swayed as he nodded eagerly, a haze clouding his vision and providing perfect cover. Tara's fingers inched forward, stealthily turning his phone off.

"I'll drive," she declared, and he tossed her the keys. Stumbling out of the club, both leaned on each other, him seeking support, her seeking to feign her drunkness. Buckling themselves in, Tara sped out of the parking lot. "I know this gorgeous spot, wanna go?"

"Wherever you want, beautiful."

Tara pressed harder on the pedal, driving until the trees waved at them from afar. Eventually, they stopped in a small clearing, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. The view breathed life into her withering soul. 

Daniel leaned against the hood of his car, and Tara steeled herself, pressing her body against his until he was lying against the cold metal with her atop him. His eyes fluttered shut as he awaited a kiss that was never coming. His foolish expression only emboldened her actions, and she deftly retrieved her pepper spray, completely dousing his face.

His shrieks and coughs shattered the serenity surrounding them as he rubbed his eyes, cursing at her vehemently. Daniel flailed his arms around, attempting to grab hold of her, but Tara stuck her foot out and tripped him. When he landed with a resounding thud, she wasted no time in straddling him, pressing a chloroform-soaked tissue to his face.

Her voice carried a chilling calmness as she whispered, "Shh. Relax now, darling. I'll take good care of you." It echoed the words he had uttered to her every time he had laid atop her.

Once Daniel succumbed to unconsciousness, Tara undressed him, leaving him only in his underwear. Then, she bound his limbs together using the ties she had brought before securing a sturdy rope around his neck.

Venturing through the woods, Tara reached her car, a different one she had rented for the occasion. From the trunk, she retrieved a portable ladder, borrowed from her Uncle Jim. Positioning it beneath a branch she deemed strong enough, she tossed the rope over it and tied its other end to his car.

With everything set, Tara climbed into the driver's seat, revving the engine in anticipation. As Daniel began to stir, she released the brakes and slowly accelerated, causing the car to move forward. The rope tightened around his neck, forcing him to stand up, his body jerked into an upright position.

Coughs and grunts filled the air as Daniel choked, bucking and struggling to find his balance.

Tara sauntered over to him. His flushed face betrayed the strain, veins bulging with exertion. Pants escaped his clenched teeth, his gaze hardening as it locked onto hers.

"Still can't remember me, darling?"

"Fuck you," he croaked.

"Why do you all say the same thing?" Tara clicked her tongue, circling him like a predator admiring its prey. "I'll say it again," she sighed. "You already did. It's a shame you don't recall our precious time together. I thought we had something special."

Daniel frowned, his mind racing to identify her.

"Or," she grinned devilishly, "Was I not the only one? Is that why you didn't reach out to the police for protection even after finding out about your friends' deaths? Woah, what a piece of shit."

"Shut up," he rasped weakly, struggling on his toes.

Finding out wasn't difficult; all it took was befriending the bartender and a few regulars at his favorite bar. Tara was aware of all the girls he had drugged and assaulted. The rumors she spread weren't baseless; the victims' silence was either bought or coerced. It was the primary reason he kept his connection and involvement with his deceased friends a secret—he feared the girls would be encouraged to finally go to the police.

Humming a tune, Tara vanished from his sight, leaving him a screaming mess as he begged and pleaded for release. When she reappeared later in different attire, less revealing and more familiar, his eyes locked onto her baggy, ordinary clothes before scanning her makeup-free face.

Slowly, realization dawned on him. "You," he whispered.

Without dignifying him with a response, Tara turned away and climbed back into the car. The engine's roar disrupted the silent woods as she accelerated, driving until his feet no longer touched the ground.

Daniel spluttered, his desperate cries for help drowned out by the sounds of his vehicle, but there was no one around to hear or help him.

His struggles intensified as he fought against the constriction around his neck, his body convulsing in a desperate attempt to find relief. With each passing moment, his movements grew weaker, and his breaths more labored.

Eventually, exhaustion overcame him, and his movements ceased. The woods fell silent once more as Daniel's life slipped away, his body swaying gently in the breeze until all movement ceased.

Tara stood before his lifeless form, a mix of emotions swirling within her. With a heavy sigh, she retrieved her spray can and carefully wrote "4/5" across his torso, leaving behind a breadcrumb of evidence.

Turning his phone on, she tossed it inside his car. Then, with a grim satisfaction that morphed into haunting emptiness, she climbed into her vehicle and drove away.

Word count: 1785.

Total word count: 18853.