Aashi sat frozen, her small body trembling as the man circled them like a predator savoring his prey. Her father kept his gaze locked on the stranger, jaw clenched, body tense despite his restraints. Her mother, though wounded, offered Aashi a small nod, silently telling her to stay strong. But nothing could prepare the eight-year-old for what came next.

The men dragged her father away first. She screamed, but a rough hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her cries as she watched her father fight with every ounce of strength he had left. His defiance only earned him more pain. The sound of bones breaking filled the room, followed by agonized groans. Elena squeezed her eyes shut, but the images burned into her mind-the glint of knives, the spray of crimson, the way his body convulsed before finally going still.

But the nightmare didn't end there.

The moment her father stopped moving, they turned to her mother. The look in the men's eyes made Aashi's stomach twist in fear. She thrashed against her restraints, desperate to reach her mother, but the hands holding her down were merciless.

She watched as her mother was dragged across the floor, her screams piercing the cold air as they ripped at her dress, hands and laughter violating her in ways Elena didn't understand yet-but she would. She saw the way her mother fought, the way her spirit refused to break, even as they took everything from her. And then, with one final cruel laugh, they ended it. A gunshot rang out. Blood splattered across the floor. Silence fell.

Aashi's world shattered.

She didn't remember how long she screamed before everything faded to black.

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She woke up somewhere different. A cold metal table. Bright fluorescent lights burned into her eyes. Her wrists and ankles were strapped down. The air smelled of antiseptic, blood, and something rotten. She wasn't alone.

Figures in lab coats loomed over her, murmuring things she didn't understand. Needles pierced her skin, liquid fire coursing through her veins. Pain unlike anything she had ever known consumed her. They called it 'enhancement.' They called it 'conditioning.' To her, it was hell.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks to months. They broke her body, rebuilt it. Tortured her, studied her. She lost count of how many times she begged for death. But death never came. Instead, something else did-a cold, calculating darkness that numbed the pain, that silenced the screaming inside her head.

And then, the training began.

They turned her into something else. Something unnatural. A weapon. They erased the little girl who once laughed in the arms of her family and molded her into something monstrous. They taught her to kill without hesitation, to break bones like they were nothing, to slice through flesh as if it were paper. Every hit she took, every scar they carved into her, only strengthened the thing they were creating.

By the time she turned sixteen, she had become their masterpiece-the perfect killer. A ghost. A nightmare whispered through the underworld.

They called her Dead Rose.

She was beautiful, delicate in appearance, but her touch meant death. No one saw her coming, and no one lived to tell the tale when she left. The very men who created her soon learned that even they could not control the storm they had unleashed. Because Dead Rose did not forget. And she did not forgive. One by one, she hunted them. The men who had stolen everything from her. She made them bleed. She made them suffer. She became what they feared most. And when the last of them gasped their final, desperate breath, she stood over his broken body, crimson staining her hands, and whispered the only name that still meant anything to her.

"Aashi died long ago. I am Dead Rose."

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So, this was the prologue or the glimpse of her past that shows why she became Dead Rose now the real story will start from her revenge.

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