Perfect Sin

Jaceon didn't want to do it. Every step he took toward that mansion felt like his feet were sinking into molten regret. But he had no choice—Hell didn't accept no for an answer. The contract had been sealed.

He and Jarvis stood outside Mr. Leon McLaren's estate once again. The same path, the same door, the same golden bell.

Ding-dong.

Moments passed before the door creaked open. Mr. Leon, still dressed in his evening robe, raised a confused brow. "Jaceon? Did you forget something?"

But before he could say more, Jaceon stepped forward. His eyes, no longer warm, were shadowed and unreadable. Jarvis followed closely, a mischievous glint in her eyes and her arms crossed like someone ready for a show.

Mr. Leon looked between them, confused. "What's going on?"

Then Jaceon grabbed his wrist tightly.

"What the hell—Jaceon!"

A flash of black flames erupted at their feet. The walls of the mansion disappeared into smoke as the world warped around them. Time bent. Space screamed. And in the blink of an eye, they appeared in a rotting warehouse drenched in dust and memories—faded chalk markings on the floor, old rusted cages, stained sacks once used to drug the helpless. This was the place. The hell Leon thought he'd buried long ago.

He staggered back, suddenly recognizing where they were. His breathing hitched. "No… no, why are we here?"

"Familiar, isn't it?" Jarvis chuckled darkly. "You used to make your deals right there." She pointed to the crooked steel table at the far end. "All those terrified kids. Drugged. Beaten. Sold to monsters. Tell me, Leon… do you even remember their names?"

Jaceon stood like a statue, his jaw clenched, every nerve in his body begging him not to do this.

Mr. Leon turned to him in a panic. "You brought me here?! You?! What is this?!"

"I didn't want to," Jaceon finally said, voice cold and hollow. "But fate doesn't care what I want."

Leon's eyes narrowed. "You're… you're a demon."

Jarvis cackled. "Bingo! And hello, Mr. Leon McLaren… or should we say… Jaceon's father-in-law! I've always wanted to kill family. Feels so poetic."

Leon stepped back, shaking his head violently. "No. You don't understand. I had no choice back then—we were dying! Homeless! Levi was starving!"

"And nineteen children paid for it," Jaceon snapped, his voice rising for the first time. "Nineteen families destroyed. Your 'no choice' is no excuse for the evil you buried under this roof."

"I stopped! I tried to be a better man—I raised Levi—" he said.

"You raised him on blood money!" Jarvis shouted, her eyes glowing red now. "That boy is sweet, hopeful, pure… and you tainted everything he came from!"

Leon dropped to his knees. "Please… please don't do this. He's happy now. Don't take that away from him."

Jaceon's eyes stung. He looked away, trying to breathe, trying to find some other way. But he could already feel the weight of the contract burning on his back. His skin was marked for death, and that mark wouldn't fade until Leon paid the price.

Jarvis rolled her eyes. "You getting soft now, master? You want me to do it?"

"No," Jaceon muttered. "This is my punishment ."

He looked into Leon's terrified eyes.

"I won't let Levi ever know," he said gently, as if that would make anything better. "Your soul Will vanish from this world like you never existed."

Leon wanted to scream, to beg again, but before he could speak another word, Jaceon stepped forward and touched his forehead.

And took him to the illusion warehouse where he drugged the innocent kids.

And said ," Mr Leon McLaren... your trial start now ... Your karma has begun...

Leon stepped back, his eyes wide. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," Jaceon said, his voice low and icy, "you're going to feel every ounce of the pain you inflicted… before hell takes you."

With a wave of his hand, the floor groaned—and then it opened.

Metal cuffs flew into the air, wrapping around Leon's wrists and ankles, pulling him down onto the same bloodstained operating chair he used for binding the children. His eyes bulged as panic set in. "Jaceon! Stop this! You don't have to do this!"

"Oh, but I do," Jaceon said, stepping forward. "You hurt kids, Leon. Sold them. Drugged them. Watched them suffer just to buy your way out of poverty."

Jarvis circled Leon like a vulture. "And now, sweetheart, we get to watch you suffer."

Chains pulled Leon's arms wide. Spiked cuffs clamped tight, piercing his skin. His screams started early.

The ceiling above shifted. Illusions of the children he'd sold appeared—ghostlike, translucent. Their faces showed bruises. Tear stains. Some held on to faded stuffed toys. They didn't speak. They just stared at him.

"No… no no no…" Leon muttered. "They're not real…"

"Real enough to haunt you," Jarvis said. "Real enough to mark your soul."

Jaceon lifted his hand again. The air shimmered—then long, curved hooks dropped from the ceiling.

"Remember these?" he asked coldly. "You used them to hang kids upside down while drugging them."

"No! Don't—"

A hook sank into Leon's shoulder. Blood spurted. He screamed.

Another into his thigh.

More followed.

Every tool he'd used—every cruel method—Jaceon summoned back.

Waterboarding.

Cattle prods.

Freezing showers that lasted hours.

Burns.

Electric shocks.

All illusions… yet they felt real.

Leon screamed for mercy, but no one answered. Only Jarvis laughed.

By the time Jaceon stepped forward again, Mr. Leon was sobbing, broken. Covered in phantom burns, his wrists bruised and bleeding from the restraints, his face swollen from pain.

"I loved Levi…" he choked out. "I raised him well…"

"You raised him on corpses," Jaceon said, his voice trembling. "And now you're going to pay."

A large, flaming gate tore open behind the chair—black chains slithered out, wrapping around Leon's body like serpents. Jarvis opened her arms wide like a queen watching her enemy fall.

"Leon McLaren," she said proudly. "By order of Hell, for the sins of human trafficking, child torture, and murder… you are sentenced to burn."

The ground beneath him cracked. Hellfire surged from below.

Leon's screams rose louder, shriller—as the chains pulled him backward into the flames, dragging him down through the screaming pit of the damned.

And then…

Silence.

The fire died.

The air was still.

Jaceon dropped to one knee, exhausted. Broken.

Jarvis tilted her head, staring at him. "You okay?"

"No."

But it was done.

He had delivered justice.

Even if it killed a part of him to do it.