Villain With The Absolute Evil Sytem
Chapter 44 - 42 : Flame on

Chapter 44: Chapter 42 : Flame on

Shirley inhaled sharply. Her body trembled.

She wanted to deny it.

She really, really did.

But deep down...

She knew she was already considering it.

"What? Are some kind of psycho serial killer? Kill them all? Is this what you wasted my time for?" She hissed

"Sleep on it, tomorrow have your choice ready. I don’t have time to waste," Lumian said firmly, " Meet me by the docks when you’re ready, you have only one chance,"

Shirley didn’t sleep that night.

Deep down in one part of her heart, she knew what she wanted. What Lumian suggested had crossed her mind multiple times but she was too much of a coward to voice it out and talk less of acting on it.

Deep down she was glad what Lumian had to offer was not sympathy and fake compassion, instead a solid solution. A permanent one.

She lay in bed, staring at the cracked ceiling, the wooden beams above her casting jagged shadows on her walls.

Jason was snoring in the other room, loud and obnoxious, the sound filling the cramped house.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

*"Kill them all."*

Lumian’s words echoed in her mind.

The way he said it was so casual, so certain, it sent a shiver through her spine.

She should have left. Should have told him to go to hell.

But instead, she had sat there, staring at him, letting the idea take root in her brain.

Wouldn’t it be easier?

No more Jason.

No more men knocking at the door with filthy grins and pockets full of cash.

No more of those whispers in the streets.

No more nightmares of hands grabbing at her, of sweaty breaths on her skin.

Shirley pulled the thin blanket over her head, curling into herself.

But the idea didn’t go away.

It refused to leave her alone.

And worse... she didn’t hate it.

*

The next morning, Jason was already halfway through his second beer when Shirley walked into the living room.

"Look who finally decided to show her ugly face," he muttered. He sat on the stained couch, flipping through a sports magazine, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

Shirley didn’t react. She never did. It was easier that way.

She moved to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water.

Jason didn’t even look at her as he continued.

"You went out last night, didn’t you?" His tone was lazy, but she knew better.

Shirley didn’t answer.

Jason clicked his tongue. "You bring back any cash?"

Shirley’s grip on the glass tightened.

Jason let out a huff. "Figures. Useless girl. I have to do all the damn work around here."

He picked up his beer bottle and took a long swig.

Shirley forced herself to drink her water, ignoring the knot forming in her stomach.

If she stayed quiet, he’d eventually lose interest.

If she stayed quiet—

Jason suddenly turned toward her.

"You’re getting older," he mused, eyeing her up and down. "Not as fresh as before."

Shirley felt her skin crawl.

"Guess I’ll have to start offering discounts," he laughed, taking another gulp.

She gripped the edge of the counter.

Lumian’s voice slithered into her mind again.

*"Kill them all."*

Shirley took a slow, deep breath.

She turned away, heading for the door.

Jason didn’t bother stopping her.

Lumian was waiting for her.

She found him sitting on a bench near the docks, watching the waves lazily crash against the shore.

He looked up as she approached, an amused smile playing at his lips.

"I thought you wouldn’t show," he said.

Shirley sat down beside him.

"...Tell me how."

Lumian’s smile widened slightly.

"Oh?" He leaned back. "You’ve decided already?"

Shirley didn’t respond immediately.

Instead, she turned her gaze toward the water.

"I don’t know," she admitted. "But... I want to know."

She swallowed.

"I want to know what it would take."

Lumian studied her, his golden eyes glinting in the sunlight.

Then he said, "That depends. Do you want it to be painful? Or do you want it to be clean?"

Shirley’s fingers curled into her lap.

She thought about Jason. About the men who had come and gone. About their hands. Their laughter.

"...I don’t care," she said quietly. "I just want it to end."

Lumian’s grin stretched slightly.

"Then let’s get started."

By nightfall, Shirley stood outside the house, a metal canister in her hands.

The gasoline sloshed inside as she gripped it tightly.

The street was empty, silent except for the occasional bark of a stray dog.

Lumian stood a few steps behind her, watching.

"You don’t have to hesitate," he murmured. "You’ve already decided."

Shirley swallowed.

She had stolen the gasoline from an old storage shed near the docks. It had been easier than she expected.

Now, standing here, she felt her hands shake.

Her house.

Her past.

Everything.

This would be the end of it all.

Jason was inside, passed out drunk, just like every other night.

Shirley took a deep breath.

Then, she stepped forward and began to pour.

The liquid splashed onto the wooden porch, spreading toward the doorway.

She moved along the walls, her footsteps eerily quiet.

Lumian remained where he was, watching her every move.

When the canister was empty, Shirley tossed it aside.

She reached into her pocket, pulling out a box of matches.

Her heart pounded against her ribs.

She struck one.

The flame flickered to life, casting an orange glow on her face.

She hesitated.

For just a moment.

Then, she let the match fall.

The fire roared to life in an instant.

Flames raced up the wooden walls, consuming everything in their path.

Smoke billowed into the night sky.

The heat kissed Shirley’s skin, but she didn’t move.

She just watched.

Watched as her past burned away.

Watched as the house she had been trapped in for so long was reduced to nothing.

Behind her, Lumian let out a soft chuckle.

"Well done."

Shirley didn’t respond.

She just stared into the flames, letting the warmth wash over her.

For the first time in years...

She felt free.

Her freedom was cut short, and when she heard his voice,

"What the fuck are you doing to my house you stupid bitch?!!" Jason roared from behind them