“~ I won’t die, Uncle. Mommy says children live long lives.~” Zeina Livy Razeta.*** Hah… hah… hah… Uneven breaths escaped the lips of an eight year old girl. At the same time her bare feet kept running into the dark forest. She didn’t care about the blood still flowing from her wounded feet or the shiver climbing her small body. The only thing that mattered was running as far as possible to stay alive. Far behind her, at a grand mansion that still stood proudly, gunshots and screams for help echoed through the night. Dozens of bodies lay arranged on the front lawn, and pools of blood stained the ground everywhere. Who could have guessed that night would become the most terrible night anyone had ever known. A massacre that killed hundreds, including servants and guards, shocked the entire country. Reporters flocked to cover the story and bring the latest news. But who the perpetrator was remained unknown, the police investigated, yet the results were fruitless. *** A day passed. The little girl who had fallen asleep beneath a large tree opened her eyes and looked around, trying to place where she was. “Forest,” she said at last. She glanced at her hands, which were clearly spotted with fresh blood, and at the white dress she wore, stained the same. A metallic, unpleasant smell clung to her, even though the blood wasn’t hers. “This is Mommy’s blood,” she said flatly, still staring at her hands. She traced the bloodstain on her dress and squeezed it between her fingers. That blood was her brother’s, her beloved brother’s. Memories of the previous night returned. With her eyes she had watched someone mercilessly shoot her parents and her brother to death. Not only them, she had seen several servants and guards shot and killed in cold blood. “Are they dead?” The innocent question left her lips, her face showed no expression beyond a blank calm. “I must go back. Brother will miss me.” She gripped the trunk of the big tree to help herself stand, and with her wounded foot she began to stumble forward. An hour passed and thirst gnawed at her throat. Glancing to her left, she saw a small pooling of water. Smiling, she hurried over and drank, ignoring the pain in her feet. “Ahh… refreshing. I’m not thirsty anymore,” she said, pleased. After drinking she pressed on. There was no time to rest; the little girl only wanted to return to the mansion and see her brother. Three hours later her steps paused just behind the family’s enormous mansion. Police tape marked the area and warnings forbade entry. The officers were likely still conducting their inquiry. With her small body she slipped under the tape easily. From the back door into the kitchen, blood spatter covered floors and walls alike. She felt no fear. Her face remained calm as she took in everything around her. Entering the living room, nearly every item was splattered with fresh blood. The luxurious sofa was no longer pristine, the glass coffee table lay shattered, ceramic vases scattered, and even a jasmine bouquet in the corner had gone red. “So quiet. Why didn’t anyone welcome me home?” she murmured softly. As she climbed toward the stairs, she froze when she saw an object on the first step she recognized instantly. Picking it up, a thin smile appeared on her face. “This is Brother’s. Still fine, no blood on it,” she said. She tucked the item into her pocket and continued up the stairs. Each step bore more splatters of blood, but she climbed on regardless. Click. She pushed open the door to one of the bedrooms painted bright pink and smiled at the sight. Though not as neat as usual, she was glad to be back. First, she went to her desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a photo she always kept there. “Good thing it’s still here.” She stroked the framed picture gently. Her smile widened as she stared at the faces in the photo. “Mommy is so pretty. When I grow up I want to be pretty like Mommy,” she said cheerfully. “Daddy and Brother are handsome too, hehehe,” she giggled. Tap… tap… tap… Quick footsteps made her turn toward the door, her heart beat twice as fast. Clutching the photo, she searched for a hiding place and finally crawled under the bed, covering her mouth to keep from making a sound. Click… The door opened. Her heart pounded harder. She couldn't see who had entered, but her eyes saw two legs step into the room. “Where is that child? Didn’t she come in here just now!?” the person murmured. “Damn! If she got away, she could become a big problem!” the person growled as he groped through shelves and drawers, searching. She kept her mouth covered, listening to every word and storing them in her mind to recognize who it might be. Soon she heard things crashing as the person rifled through the room. Drrttt… drrttt… “Hmm?” the person answered a phone call. “…" "The child must die! She’s a major threat!” “…” “Okay.” Click. After the call ended, footsteps retreated and the door closed. The intruder had gone, and Zeina felt relief wash over her. Slowly she crawled out from under the bed. Seeing her room in disarray made her quietly annoyed. But then she remembered the one chilling word she had heard. “Die? Who must die? Do they mean me?” she whispered, puzzled. “I won’t die, Uncle. Mommy said children live long lives,” she muttered to herself. Satisfied with that, she left the room. She took nothing but the photo and the small item that had belonged to her brother. Where she would go next, she did not know, only that she would not return to that grand house. *** Zeina Livy Razeta, the lone child left after a brutal massacre. A child who witnessed her family’s slaughter up close, and whose grief grew into a seed of relentless vengeance. Zeina grew up with death’s shadow close at her heels, it turned her into a cold, ruthless girl who felt nothing. She cast love away and nurtured only the desire to make the killer pay.

The Beginning 

Zeina Livy Razeta 

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Zeina's Revenge: The Beautiful Assassin 

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Zeina's Revenge: The Beautiful Assassin

Ayrinjabi

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