My Past Life-Part 34.
Ah… ah… ah…
Joy coughed violently, spitting out thick, dark blood from her mouth. Her body trembled as she tried to push herself up from the cold, hard ground. But her strength was gone—her muscles refused to obey. Her vision blurred, the world around her fading in and out like a dying light.
The air was thick with the stench of blood and dust. The battlefield was silent now, except for the ragged sound of her own breathing. Above her stood Scorpio, his massive frame casting a shadow over her broken body. His face was cold, emotionless—a killer who had done this many times before.
With great effort, Joy lifted her head, her eyes struggling to focus on him.
"Someone… will kill you… someday, Scorpio," she whispered, her voice weak but filled with defiance.
Scorpio smirked. His lips curled into a cruel smile as he looked down at her, like a predator admiring its prey.
"Let them come," he growled. "I'll kill them all. But before that… you die now."
He clenched his right fist, the muscles in his arm tightening like coiled steel. The air itself seemed to tremble as he raised his monstrous hand high above his head. Joy knew what was coming—she had seen this punch destroy stone, shatter bones, and end lives in an instant.
There was no escape.
With a final, merciless swing, Scorpio brought his fist down—straight into Joy's chest.
BOOM!
The impact was devastating. The ground beneath her cracked like glass, spiderweb fractures spreading in every direction. Dust and debris exploded into the air, swirling around them like a storm.
Then… silence.
As the dust settled, Joy's lifeless body lay motionless. Blood covered her face, her once-bright eyes now empty—white as paint, all color drained from them.
Scorpio stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable.
"Rest now," he muttered. "Be with Barry… and my brother… and if possible… my family."
Without another word, he turned away, waving his left hand at his men. One by one, they disappeared into the darkness, their footsteps fading into the night.
Scorpio was the last to leave.
And just like that… Joy was dead.
A Few Hours Later…
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Footsteps—fast, desperate—echoed through the ruined battlefield.
"Ah… ah… ah…"
Peter gasped for air, his lungs burning as he finally stopped running. Sweat poured down his face, his heart pounding like a drum. He bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.
When he finally looked up… his blood ran cold.
The scene before him was a nightmare.
Bodies. Blood. Destruction.
His mouth fell open, but no words came out. His eyes widened in horror, unable to look away. The stench hit him like a wall—blood, sweat, and something worse, something rotten. He covered his nose, gagging.
For a long moment, he stood frozen.
Then, slowly, he forced himself to move.
"Joy…" he whispered, his voice shaking. "Where are you? Please… don't be dead."
He stepped forward, his boots crunching on broken stone. Everywhere he looked, unfamiliar faces—lifeless, twisted in pain.
"Whatever happened here… I never want to see it again," he muttered, his stomach twisting in disgust.
"Joy… Joy… Joy!"
His calls grew louder, more desperate. The sound of his own voice bounced back at him, hollow and eerie, like he was standing in a vast, empty cave.
Then—
"JOY!!!"
His scream tore through the silence.
There she was.
Lying on the ground. Still. Broken.
"Joy!"
Peter's heart shattered.
He sprinted toward her, his legs moving before his mind could process what he was seeing.
To be continued…