Judy Kiramman

## The Black Sheep of The Kiramman Family

Judy Kiramman's life was an intricate and captivating narrative, woven with threads of contradictions and complexities that converged to shape her from her earliest days in the lavish embrace of the Kiramman Estate. Born into the lap of luxury on a crisp November morning in 1880, Judy emerged as the living embodiment of privilege, the offspring of the union between Sophia Kiramman and James McKee. Her arrival symbolized the melding of opulence and heritage, an heir to a legacy that was both tangible and intangible. Amidst the grandeur of the estate, Judy's existence unfolded as a tale of contrasts that set her apart even within her own family. While her peers reveled in the shallow pursuits that befitted their privileged status, Judy embarked on a journey of curiosity that led her to find beauty in the most unexpected places. Creatures that would send shivers down the spines of most – spiders, snakes, rats, bats, and, perhaps most intriguingly, ravens – held a unique fascination for her. These creatures seemed to communicate in a secret language known only to Judy, and she would often immerse herself in books and in the gentle rustling of winds that whispered secrets far beyond the comprehension of ordinary mortals. Yet, as her affinity for the unconventional deepened, it set her on a collision course with a society that often prized conformity above all else. Judy's uniqueness marked her as an outlier amidst a sea of conformity, a rare gem that refused to be shaped by the mold cast by societal expectations. Her mother, Sophia, endeavored tirelessly to groom her into a semblance of conventionality, coaxing her to embrace the norms deemed acceptable by society. But Judy's spirit was not so easily swayed. From her earliest days, she was drawn to attire that transgressed gender boundaries, favoring the freedom of suits and men's clothing over the constrictions of dresses. This choice incited disapproval from her mother, further deepening the divide between them. In contrast, her father, James, became a refuge of understanding in the storm of societal pressures, though an unspoken gulf lingered between them, preventing the unfettered connection Judy yearned for.

## The Devil Walking Beside Of Me

All of Judy's life, she has been burdened with someone else. At times, Judy didn't know about her but she was forced to learn after tragic events that transpired within her family circle. The only true way to tell who this "person" is, we must hear it from Ezra.

***"I woke up, cold, I pulled the covers over my face as the wind brushed my cheek. That's when I heard light breathing noises coming from behind me, at first I thought it was Judy breathing heavily in her sleep, I usually would smack her with my pillow to make her stop. But, I turned to look and saw Judy sitting straight up in bed. I said "Is everything alright?" hoping she'd return the comment to me and tell me she's okay, but instead her neck just twitched. I felt uneasy, I felt terrified. I was young too. I didn't know what I could do or say. That's when she got up from the bed in a straight position, walking weirdly to the window she starred outside, I pulled the covers to my nose trying to shut out this or wake myself up by pinching my thigh. Nothing worked. That's when suddenly she whispered, a voice I never heard before, a sinister deep.. voice. It wasn't Judy's, she said "Raven.." Confused and worried, I said "Raven?" and she turned her head, her eyes didn't seem like her at all. That's when she picked up a nearby pencil and ran at me full force. I flinched and held my hands up letting out a squeal. Right before she hit me with the pencil, she stopped. That's when I heard a faint voice say "What.. happened?" with tears in my eyes Judy looked at me in shock and confused. I didn't tell her that night.. because I couldn't bare the stories and the pain."***

Judy didn't know but the next few years of her life she would have to be battling a person within her, otherwise known as Raven. Raven was terrifying, ruthless and emotionless. Every time Judy experiences stress, Raven comes out.

Raven has caused many misfortunes for Judy throughout her life and she has a hard time remembering when she blacks out or when things happen.

## A New Found Love

Within the opulent expanse of the Kiramman Estate, Judy Kiramman's life unfolded as a tapestry woven with threads of intense emotions, with Lily as the poignant refrain that echoed through her soul. The sprawling estate's grandeur was a stark contrast to Judy's inner landscape, where the yearning for acceptance and connection was a constant ache. The relentless bullying she endured during her formative years etched scars on her heart, but amidst the shadows, Lily emerged as a beacon of light, illuminating Judy's world with the brilliance of an unspoken love. Lily wasn't just a friend; she was the love that dared not speak its name. Their bond was a symphony of stolen glances, fleeting touches, and whispered confessions hidden from the world. Lily understood Judy in ways that no one else could, glimpsing the raw vulnerability that lay beneath the surface of her guarded demeanor. Judy's love for Lily was a force that fueled her through the trials of their tumultuous upbringing. As their connection deepened, Judy found herself ensnared in a dance of stolen moments, where every stolen glance held a universe of unspoken emotions. Lily's laughter was a serenade that painted color onto Judy's world, and her presence was a soothing balm to the wounds inflicted by a society that couldn't comprehend the depth of their affection. But tragedy loomed on the horizon, casting a shadow over their secret world. The Kiramman Estate held secrets of its own, and within its sprawling confines, the red barn was a place where innocence collided with darkness. One fateful day, the wind whispered a warning as Judy and Lily sought refuge within the barn's timeworn walls. In a moment of chilling realization, Judy saw the world turn on its axis as Lily's footing gave way, her scream a heart-wrenching crescendo that cut through the air. Judy's world plunged into a nightmare as she watched Lily fall, her fingers grazing empty air as her love slipped through her grasp. The look on Lily's face, a mixture of shock and terror, would haunt Judy's dreams for years to come. But even more chilling were the eyes of Amelia, a presence that seemed to embody the malevolent shadows that had been lurking at the edges of their lives. In those eyes, Judy glimpsed a twisted satisfaction that sent shivers down her spine, a morbid delight in Lily's demise. The pain of losing Lily was an ache that cut to the bone, a grief that Judy couldn't escape no matter how hard she tried. Lily's absence left a chasm within Judy's heart that could never be filled. The pain of that loss was a constant companion, a reminder of the fleeting nature of life and the fragility of love. The echoes of their stolen moments, the touches that lingered longer than they should have, and the unspoken declarations of affection were the whispers of a love that defied societal norms. Judy's journey carried her through further trials, her heart heavy with the weight of Lily's memory. The path was treacherous, the world often harsh and unyielding, but Judy's enduring love for Lily remained an ember within her soul. The memory of Lily's smile, the warmth of her touch, and the memory of their secret embraces were lifelines that Judy clung to, guiding her through the darkness.

The aftermath of Lily's death sent shockwaves through Judy's world. The fracture of her parents' union was another blow, the stability she once knew crumbling like a sandcastle at high tide. The specter of Lily's death and the tumultuous changes in her family life cast Judy into a whirlpool of despair. The pain became overwhelming, an abyss that threatened to consume her spirit.

In the intricate tapestry of Judy's life, Lily was the thread that wove passion into every moment. Their love was a testament to the resilience of the human heart, the way it could hold on to a forbidden affection even as the years went by. The bond they shared was more than friendship; it was a love story that transcended the boundaries of time, an eternal reminder of the power of connection and the depth of a love that could withstand even the most turbulent of storms.

## Judy's new found life, in Rhodes.

Amidst the shattered remains of her family, Judy's world spiraled into a darkness that swallowed her whole. The dissolution of her parents' union was a cataclysmic event, the aftershocks of which left her in a desolate state. Sophia, her mother, was no sanctuary from the storm. Instead, she became a relentless tempest, raining judgment upon Judy for every step she took. The weight of Sophia's disapproval pressed heavy on Judy's shoulders, a constant reminder that she was never enough, never worthy. Judy's days in the town of Rhodes were consumed by a suffocating depression. The loss of Lily, the torment from her mother, and the suffocating weight of her past had carved a gaping wound in her soul. The days blended into a blur of pain and despair, a never-ending cycle of misery that threatened to engulf her completely. But one day, as the sun cast long shadows across the red sand roads, a decision formed in the depths of Judy's heart. She couldn't endure the pain any longer. The life she had known was a prison, and she yearned for freedom. The decision was both terrifying and liberating – she would leave. Leave the echoes of judgment, the memories of Lily's fall, and the oppressive atmosphere of Rhodes behind. With a heavy heart and a sense of desperate determination, Judy ran. She fled the town that had become a suffocating cocoon, seeking solace in the bustling streets of Saint Denis. For two long years, she survived off the streets, a phantom of society, a ghost haunting the corners of existence. Nights spent in shadows, days searching for money from people's pockets to sustain her, and rat dinners became a grim norm.

## The Beginning of Judy's Saint Reality

*As we all should give Judy a chance to tell her story,*

*"Cradled at the edge of the bank, the night painted an indigo canvas overhead, dotted with the faint twinkle of stars. The rhythmic lapping of water against the stone embankment created a soothing cadence that underscored the stillness of the night. My silhouette was a solitary figure, criss-crossed on the cool cobblestones, a study in contrasts against the backdrop of Saint Denis' shimmering city lights. The glow of lamplights cast an ambient halo, providing a soft illumination that danced across the water's surface. Despite the calm façade of the night, a whirlwind of thoughts churned within me, a relentless storm of uncertainties and longings. My threadbare clothes offered little protection against the cool night air, but the chill was secondary to the weight of my thoughts. As I gazed out into the expanse of the city, the familiar hum of life continued on its ceaseless journey, the laughter and music from nearby bars a distant reverberation. The night was a mirror to my own existence – a mixture of shadows and dim light, uncertainty mingling with the faint glimmer of hope. Yet, amidst this solitude, an unexpected disturbance reached my ears. Laughter, eerie and unsettling, danced through the night air. It was a chorus of chilling amusement, a symphony that seemed out of place in the quiet of the night. My gaze darted towards the source of the sound, a frown knitting my brows in confusion. The bank, a structure of stoic architecture, stood before me, its entrance bathed in shadows. And within those shadows, a gathering of figures had materialized. Men and women, cloaked in darkness, formed a hushed assembly. Their laughter was anything but ordinary – it held a quality of unease that sent shivers down my spine. Why were they congregating at this late hour, their unsettling mirth echoing through the empty streets? A sense of foreboding gnawed at my senses, a primal instinct warning me of danger lurking in the shadows. I considered retreating, slipping back into the alleys and leaving the strange assembly to their cryptic gathering. But before I could make a move, a new presence emerged from the depths of the bank. Her figure was shrouded in an aura of mystery, her attire a symphony of black and gold that shimmered like moonlight on water. The moonlight caught the glint of her high-heeled boots, their clicking rhythm across the cobblestones sending shivers down my spine. Her movements were deliberate, every step a testament to the otherworldly allure she possessed. In her presence, the night seemed to hold its breath, as if nature itself acknowledged her as a force beyond its comprehension. As our eyes met, a shiver danced down my spine, a mixture of fascination and trepidation intertwining within me. Her gaze was like a riddle, a puzzle I yearned to solve yet feared to unravel. It was a gaze that seemed to pierce through the layers of my being, as if she could read the stories etched within my very soul. "Child, what brings you to the dark streets at this hour?" Her voice carried a velvety undertone, a soothing murmur that echoed across the silent night. Her question held an air of gentle curiosity, as if the answer mattered to her more than I could comprehend. I swallowed the lump in my throat, caught off guard by the unexpected encounter. "Just... looking for something," I stammered, my voice betraying both my vulnerability and my reluctance to share. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes never leaving mine. "And what is that 'something,' my dear?" The question hung between us, a delicate thread that held the potential to unravel the secrets I guarded so closely. Her gaze seemed to invite me to open up, to let down the walls that shielded me from the world. Despite my wariness, a part of me was drawn to her, an unspoken understanding that seemed to pass between us. "Something better," I whispered, the words escaping like a confession that I had long kept hidden. A soft smile played upon her lips, a smile that seemed to hold both compassion and understanding. "You deserve something better," she replied, her voice carrying a promise that resonated within me. As her hand extended towards me, an air of anticipation hung in the space between us. But it wasn't her gesture alone that drew my attention. In the dim glow of the night, a glimmer caught my eye – a ring on her finger, a ring unlike any other. The massive skull adorned with a golden eye seemed to stare into my very soul, a symbol of power and mystery that sent a shiver down my spine. The eerie atmosphere surrounding her was tempered by an odd sense of familiarity, like a haunting lullaby from childhood dreams. Her eyes held a paradox – a depth of understanding, yet an enigma that was impossible to unravel. In her presence, I felt a tug, like a child yearning for the comfort of a mother's embrace. It was a mixture of unease and longing, a testament to the compelling aura she exuded. That's when I grabbed her hand in hopes of a better tomorrow, walking with her down the street and the odd men and women beside of us, I felt in peace." ~Judy*

## Valerie

Judy had just been dismissed by Saint, her heart still racing from their intense conversation. As she walked through the stables, a sense of liberation slowly replaced the lingering tension. Her footsteps echoed against the wooden floor as she wandered through the rows of stalls, each one housing a magnificent equine creature. Her gaze wandered to a stall at the end, where a plain black beauty stood, her eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and gentleness. The placard above the stall read "Widow," a name that seemed to carry both mystery and a hint of melancholy. Judy's heart skipped a beat as she studied the horse, lost in her thoughts. She hadn't noticed the approach of someone until a voice broke through her reverie. "She's a beauty, isn't she?" Startled, Judy turned to find a young woman with blonde hair standing nearby. Her eyes were warm and inviting, and her smile was like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. "Yeah, she is," Judy replied, feeling her cheeks warm with a slight blush. "I've never really owned a horse before, but... there's something about her." The woman's smile widened, her eyes twinkling with understanding. "I'm Valerie, by the way. I work here at the stables. And you must be new around here." Judy nodded, her heart still fluttering. "Yeah, I am. I'm Judy." "Nice to meet you, Judy," Valerie said, her voice gentle. "Widow has a special spirit. She came here a bit withdrawn, but she's been blossoming lately." Judy found herself drawn to Valerie's presence, her nerves dancing like butterflies in her stomach. "Widow's lucky to have found a place where she can heal." Valerie's eyes held a depth of kindness that Judy found comforting. "It's true. Sometimes, all it takes is the right environment and the right people." As they talked, Judy's nervousness began to subside, replaced by a warmth that spread through her chest. Valerie was easy to talk to, and the more they shared stories, the more Judy felt a connection between them. Judy's eyes flickered to Widow, and then back to Valerie. "You must really love working with the horses here." Valerie nodded, her gaze steady. "Absolutely. They have a way of bringing out the best in people. And speaking of horses, I can see that you have a good bond with Widow already." Judy's heart skipped a beat at Valerie's words. "Yeah, she's... special." Valerie's smile held a softness that sent Judy's heart racing. "You know, Judy, there's something about horses that helps us open up, helps us heal. It's like they sense the emotions we carry." Judy found herself lost in Valerie's gaze, her nerves mixing with a growing warmth. "You're right. They're like a mirror to our souls." As the conversation flowed, Judy's crush on Valerie became more apparent. Her heart raced with every smile, every shared laugh, and every lingering glance. And as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the stables, Judy's decision became clear. "I think... I'd like to buy Widow. She feels like a kindred spirit." Valerie's eyes lit up with delight, and Judy's heart soared at the sight. "I think she'd be lucky to have you as her companion." Judy's nerves fluttered anew as she looked into Valerie's eyes. "Thank you, Valerie. I'm excited." Valerie grinned, her gaze twinkling mischievously. "You know, I couldn't help but notice your accent. British, right?" Judy's cheeks reddened, a mixture of surprise and delight bubbling within her. "Yes, that's right." Valerie chuckled softly. "I don't hear a lot of British accents around here often. It's more of a country twang. I have to say, I like it. It's refreshing." Judy's heart skipped a beat as she met Valerie's gaze. "Thank you. Your accent's not so bad either." Valerie laughed, the sound like music to Judy's ears. "Well, thank you kindly." And so, amidst the soothing atmosphere of the stable, Judy's crush on Valerie grew even stronger, fueled by shared stories, gentle laughter, and the unexpected compliment that had turned Judy's blush into a smile. Weeks later, as Judy spent more time at the stables, Valerie took a moment to share a long and heartwarming story about Widow's past. They sat on a bale of hay, the soft sounds of horses nearby creating a backdrop to Valerie's words. "You know, Widow wasn't always named that," Valerie began. "She used to be called 'Shadow.' She came to us from a ranch upstate. She had been through a lot, and her spirit was as wounded as her body." Judy listened intently, her heart aching for the horse she had grown so fond of. "What happened to her?" Valerie's gaze softened, her voice carrying a mixture of compassion and nostalgia. "When Widow was younger, she had a lover – another horse. They were inseparable, a true partnership. But then, tragedy struck. Her lover passed away unexpectedly, leaving Widow alone and heartbroken." Judy's fingers traced Widow's mane as she listened to the story unfold. "That's so sad." Valerie nodded. "Yes, it was. Widow went through a period of deep sadness and depression. She withdrew from the other horses and the world around her. The owners at the ranch called her 'Widow,' both as a tribute to her lost companion and as a reflection of her grief." Judy's heart went out to Widow, and she gently rested her hand on the horse's neck. "But she's better now?" Valerie's smile was both fond and reassuring. "Yes, over time, Widow started to heal. She formed bonds with the other horses here at the stables and began to find joy in the simple pleasures of life. Her transformation has been incredible to witness." Judy looked into Widow's eyes, a deep understanding passing between them. "I'm glad she's found some happiness." Valerie nodded, her gaze softening. "And I think she's found a kindred spirit in you, Judy. You've given her a second chance at companionship, and I can see that she's thriving." As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden hue over the stables, Judy felt a deep connection not only with Widow but also with Valerie. The shared stories, the laughter, and the genuine moments of connection had woven a bond between them that Judy knew was special. And so, amidst the quiet beauty of the stables, Judy's heart continued to blossom, much like Widow's spirit. In the presence of a horse who had known sorrow and healing, and a woman who had a knack for making her feel at ease, Judy's journey took an unexpected turn – one filled with hope and the promise of something more. As the sun dipped below the horizon and Judy left the stables that evening, her heart felt light yet full. The memory of her conversation with Valerie lingered in her mind, like a sweet melody playing in the background. She walked through the city streets of Saint Denis, lost in her thoughts and the warm glow of the streetlights. When she finally returned to her living quarters, the image of Valerie's smile and the way her eyes had lit up during their conversation was still fresh in her mind. Settling into her room, Judy couldn't help but replay their interactions over and over again. Her heart raced as she recalled the moments they had shared, the laughter they had exchanged, and the genuine connection that had sparked between them. Slipping under the covers, Judy closed her eyes, the events of the day mingling with her dreams. In her slumber, the stables became a vivid landscape where Valerie's presence was magnified. They laughed, they talked, and their fingers brushed against each other as they tended to the horses. The dream was a tapestry woven from the threads of her feelings, a mix of excitement, curiosity, and a newfound admiration for the woman she had met. As the night wore on, Judy's dreams continued to be filled with Valerie's smile and the sound of her laughter. Their conversations played out like a movie in her mind, each interaction leaving a lasting impression. When she woke the next morning, the memory of her dreams lingered, a gentle reminder of the connection she had made. Throughout the day, Judy found herself drifting back to thoughts of Valerie. The way her eyes crinkled when she laughed, the warmth of her presence, and the kindness she exuded – all these elements had etched themselves into Judy's memory. Her heart raced with anticipation as she considered the possibility of seeing Valerie again. As days turned into weeks, Judy's visits to the stables became a regular occurrence. She looked forward to those moments when she could spend time with Widow and share conversations with Valerie. Each encounter deepened the bond they shared, and Judy's crush on Valerie continued to flourish. Their interactions were like sweet melodies, with each word carrying a depth of meaning that only seemed to draw them closer. Judy couldn't deny the growing feelings she had for Valerie, feelings that had taken root in the rich soil of their shared experiences and genuine connection. And so, as Judy returned to the stables time and time again, she knew that her heart was on a journey of its own. The horse named Widow had not only brought healing to her own wounds but had also played a part in leading Judy to a person who ignited a spark within her. As she cared for Widow and exchanged laughter with Valerie, Judy couldn't help but wonder where this unexpected connection might lead.

## Judy's First Big Job

Judy's journey within the enigmatic world of the Saints had led her down a path of unsettling choices, but none as chilling and personal as the assignment she received from Saint – to eliminate an individual named Victoria Kiramman. The mission was shrouded in secrecy, leaving Judy with only a name and a nagging feeling of unease. Yet, as she followed the threads that led her closer to Victoria, Judy was about to uncover a truth that would shatter her understanding of the situation. Months had passed since Judy's unsettling encounter with the name Victoria Kiramman. The assignment had left a lingering unease, a puzzle she couldn't shake. With nothing but a photograph and a name to guide her, Judy had embarked on a relentless search for the woman who had suddenly become a focal point in her life. The photograph had been her only lead other than the name, a frozen moment in time that captured the essence of Victoria Kiramman. Judy had studied it meticulously, committing every detail to memory – the sharp angles of the face, the enigmatic expression, the glint of recognition in her eyes. Armed with this visual clue and the determination to uncover the truth, Judy had combed the city for any sign of the elusive Victoria. Then, one fateful day, as Judy entered the telegram office on a routine errand, her heart skipped a beat. In a corner of the room, two red-haired women stood engaged in conversation. The scene seemed ordinary, but something about it set off a spark of recognition deep within Judy's mind. Her eyes locked onto one of the women, the profile, and the fiery hair strikingly familiar. The lines of the photograph and the features of the woman before her overlapped with uncanny accuracy. The realization hit Judy like a bolt of lightning – this woman bore a striking resemblance to the person she had been searching for. Determined to learn more, Judy decided to listen in on their conversation from a distance. She concealed herself in a nearby alcove, her heart racing as she strained to catch snippets of their dialogue. The names "Violet" and "Victoria" floated to her ears, woven into the fabric of their conversation. Her breath caught in her throat as the puzzle pieces started to fall into place. The possibility that she had finally located Victoria sent a surge of adrenaline through her veins. With a cautious yet determined resolve, Judy followed at a discreet distance as the woman she believed to be Victoria left the telegram office. The chase led them through the bustling streets and into the winding alleyways of the city. The anticipation and uncertainty were palpable, every step taken laden with the weight of the unknown. Finally, Judy found herself in a dimly lit back alleyway, the figure she had been following standing before her. It was a moment suspended in time, the tension in the air crackling with a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. The two women regarded each other, their eyes locking in a silent exchange that spoke volumes. Then, with a measured breath, Victoria's voice cut through the silence. "You've been looking for me, haven't you?" Judy's gaze was unyielding, her emotions roiling beneath the surface. "Who are you, really?" Victoria's lips quirked into a bittersweet smile, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. "I'm the one you were sent to find. The truth you've been seeking – it's all here." As Victoria's words hung in the air, Judy felt a rush of conflicting emotions. The anticipation and fear that had driven her search were now mingled with curiosity and a deep-seated need to understand the woman before her. And then, with a breath that carried the weight of vulnerability and revelation, Victoria began to lay out the truth. The pieces of the puzzle that had eluded Judy for so long started to slot into place – the secrets, the connections, and the motivations that had driven her assignment. The lines began to connect, forming a mosaic of understanding that shattered Judy's preconceptions. As Victoria spoke, the chilling revelation sent a shockwave through Judy's senses. She felt as if the ground had been pulled from beneath her feet. "Saint," Victoria said, her voice weighted with a mixture of regret and sorrow, "many years ago, she sent me after your mother, Sophia." Judy's grip on the knife tightened, the blade trembling in her hand. Her mother's name was a fragile thread connecting her to the past, and Victoria's words threatened to unravel everything she thought she knew. "Saint," Victoria continued, "has had an obsession with your family, with your mother, with everything revolving around it." Judy's breath caught in her throat. Her mind raced as she struggled to process the enormity of Victoria's revelation. Obsession, lies, and manipulation – the words echoed in her mind like a haunting refrain. Victoria's gaze was unflinching, her eyes locking onto Judy's trembling form. "I was sent to kill Sophia, but I couldn't. At the time, she was pregnant with you." The weight of Victoria's words bore down on Judy like an avalanche. The truth she had been seeking had been twisted and distorted by Saint's dark intentions. Her mother's life, her very existence, had been hanging by a thread, threatened by the very person who had once seemed like a savior. Victoria continued, "Trust me, she made me pay for not killing your mother, but I don't regret walking away, I got away for many years." As she held her hands up, trying to comfort Judy. As the reality of the situation settled in, Judy's breaths came in shallow gasps. The knife in her hand wavered, its edge reflecting the trembling turmoil within her. The woman before her, the one she had been chasing, was not just a target but a bearer of the truth – a truth that would forever change the course of Judy's life. Slowly, Victoria's words began to anchor Judy, grounding her in the gravity of the revelation. The knife that had been poised in a stance of aggression began to lower, the trembling of her hand easing as the shock and terror transformed into a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. In that dimly lit alleyway, surrounded by the shadows of their shared past, Judy lowered the knife. The weight of the weapon no longer felt like a means of attack; it had become a symbol of the fragile boundary between truth and deception, between loyalty and betrayal. The truth had been exposed, the lines of deceit drawn back to reveal the dark tapestry of Saint's manipulations. The woman before her, Victoria, was a testament to the complex web of intentions and motives that had led Judy to this point. As the knife's blade met the ground with a soft clink, the tension in the air began to wane. The distance between them seemed to shrink as the enormity of their shared history hung heavy in the air. Judy's gaze met Victoria's, her eyes mirroring the vulnerability and raw emotion that had been exposed. The encounter in the alleyway had unraveled the façade of the assignment, laying bare a truth that demanded acknowledgment and understanding. And in that moment of revelation, Judy found herself at a crossroads, a precipice of change where the darkness of her past collided with the potential for redemption and self-discovery.

## The Saints

Judy after that was valued in The Saints as Saint's daughter, many years Judy was born and raised under Saint's ways, showing Judy how to use a knife in combat and much more beautiful techniques of survival. Judy was once a child of Sophia, but now a child of Saint's. Their bond grew overtime and Judy grew more and more in the ranks as a trusted member that could achieve and complete jobs and missions set upon The Saints. The woman, who Judy later knew as "Saint," provided Judy with a sense of belonging she had never felt before. Yet, the tendrils of darkness reached deeper than she could have imagined. The name Saint reverberated through the shadows, a name that invoked fear and respect in equal measure. As the years passed, Judy was drawn further into the enigmatic world of The Saints, where the leader, Saint, took her under her wing. Saint became more than a mentor to Judy – she filled a void left by Sophia's absence. A twisted mother-daughter bond formed, one that seemed to heal the wounds left by Judy's mother. Saint's affection and guidance provided a semblance of the family Judy had yearned for, albeit in a world teetering on the precipice of chaos. But as time wore on, the line between good and bad blurred. Saint's once-motherly love twisted into manipulation, and Judy was pulled into a cycle of violence and cruelty she couldn't escape. The mistakes Judy made cast her into the path of Saint's wrath, leading to a harrowing encounter that forever scarred her soul.

*"In her office, the air hung heavy with tension, every heartbeat echoing like a drumbeat of impending doom. My fingers trembled involuntarily as I faced Saint, the woman who had become both my mentor and my tormentor. Dressed in her signature black and gold, she exuded an air of mystery that sent a shiver down my spine, even as a veneer of confidence masked my apprehension. "Judy," her voice was a delicate whisper, soft yet laced with a subtle edge that set me on edge. I took a hesitant step forward, my gaze locked on her, searching for any hint of what was to come. The room was illuminated by the dim glow of candles, casting flickering shadows that danced across the walls like phantoms in the night. "Judy," she repeated, her tone a mixture of feigned concern and veiled amusement, "do you know what it takes to be the next Saint?" Her words hung in the air, a tantalizing question that I could feel like a weight upon my shoulders. My heart raced as I met her gaze, uncertainty flickering in the depths of my eyes. "I… I believe I do," my voice wavered slightly, a mix of doubt and determination lacing my words. A knowing smile tugged at the corner of Saint's lips, her eyes never leaving mine. "Do you truly think you're cut out for it?" she asked, her voice dripping with honeyed skepticism. A surge of indignation rose within me, mingling with the fear that had taken root. "Yes," I replied, my voice stronger now, as if the challenge had ignited a fire within me. "I can do what needs to be done." Her laughter, soft and melodic, filled the room, sending a shiver down my spine. "Oh, Judy," she said, her voice taking on a gentle yet condescending tone, "it's not as easy as you think. The role of Saint requires more than just determination." A knot formed in my stomach as doubt crept in, threatening to unravel my resolve. Her words were a skillful dance, a dance that toyed with my emotions and manipulated my thoughts. "I know what's required," I said, my voice steady now, my earlier uncertainty overridden by a fierce determination. Her gaze bore into mine, a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "Do you really?" she mused, her fingers idly tracing the edge of a blade on her desk. "Yes," I replied, my voice steady now, my earlier uncertainty overridden by a fierce determination. For a moment, her gaze held mine, a silent battle of wills unfolding between us. And then, she leaned back in her chair, a contemplative expression on her face. "Very well," she said, her voice holding a note of resignation, that's when she got up from her chair and walked slowly over to me, in fear I watched her sit beside of me slowly, embracing each move with grace. I looked up at her, I've never seen this side of my "mother" before. She looked at me and I looked into her eyes, in that moment it was like a terrible and terrifying horror film. Her soft tone and her soft smile turned into a sinister face of evil. "prove it." She said softly before grabbing my hand and twisting it on the desk with such force. I gasped for air, holding in my shock and terror, I watched her trace the knife along my fingers, she quoted. "Ah, Judy, do you think yourself a beacon of loyalty, a shimmering example of steadfastness? How endearing, how utterly naïve. You see, I've danced this treacherous waltz before. Family, or what I foolishly believed to be kin, once walked beside me, whispering promises of unity and trust. But oh, how swiftly they twisted, how eagerly they turned. So, forgive me if your feigned camaraderie sends shivers of anticipation down my spine, for history has taught me that even the warmest bonds can ice over with betrayal." I stared at her with a sad embrace, and I continued "You think I'm going to turn on you?.." She looked back at me with a blank face of terror, staring into my eyes. "Everyone betrays me in the end, you're my daughter. But, I know someday you'll kill me." That's when she cut my first finger off and finger after finger, I held my face still and she watched my every movement for errors or weakness. I didn't stutter, I didn't flinch. I held my ground. That's when she swiftly moved away, getting up she turned around to the back of my chair, handing me a napkin to hold over my fingers so I don't bleed out. She grabbed the same blade she cut my fingers off with and guided it through my hair, "I'll miss your long hair, all those beautiful braids I made for you, I hope you never forget." That's when she gracefully started slicing my fair off with the sharp end of the blade and the strands began to fall to the floor, beneath my feet. I stared in fear, out the window and I felt not alive. I felt a cloud of emotions come over me, as if I was un-human creature to society. In terror, I held myself emotionless due to her harsh tests and ways. I wasn't going to fall under her spell and fall at her whim of weakness. She finished slicing the last few strands of my hair, styling it almost to her liking. I narrowed my eye towards her, staring into her eyes and face. "And so, it is done," she concluded. A silence settled over the room, a silence that stretched on as Saint's gaze bore into mine. And then, slowly, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips, a smile that sent fear flooding through me. "You've done well, Judy," she said, her voice a mixture of approval and pride. "I admit, I had my doubts, but you've proven me wrong." She grabbed the cloth off of the table, beside of my chopped apart hands and wiped her hands clean, walking around her desk back to her royal chair. A rush of emotion washed over me, a mixture of revenge and hatred. In that moment, the bond between us torn apart, the mother-daughter dynamic transforming into something more complex. She had pushed me to my limits, abusing me rather than loving me. She wasn't my mother anymore. My face remained blank staring into her eyes, awaiting the moment she dismissed me, she looked up into my eyes. We held a stare for a moment before she said "I'll find you something to help, with that." She pointed down at my fingers, and replied "Suck it up. You're dismissed." I felt anger, sadness, and most of all hatred for her and myself, letting myself get pulled into such a nightmare of reality. As I stood there, bathed in the glow of candlelight, I realized that the path ahead was still uncertain, that the world I had entered was one of shadows and secrets. But I was no longer the hesitant girl who had first walked into Saint's office. I was something more, something forged in the crucible of manipulation and challenge. And as I met Saint's gaze, I knew that whatever lay ahead, I was ready to face it, face her. Little did I know, the trials I had endured were only the beginning. The next chapter of my journey was about to unfold, one that would test my limits in ways I could never have imagined." ~Judy*

## The Terror Within The Saints Unfolds

As Judy embarked upon her perilous journey to break free from Saint's clutches, she delved into the shadows of whispered tales that had long haunted the corridors of her thoughts. Legends circulated among those who dared to question, those who had once tried to escape Saint's dominion. The tales spoke of desperate souls who had ventured to sever their ties with her, only to find that the cost of their defiance was far grimmer than they could have ever imagined. The air carried the weight of their stories, a reminder that the path she sought was fraught with danger, and that liberation was often a double-edged sword. In the midst of this chaotic scramble for survival, Judy's quest for freedom unfolded like a grim dance, leading her down labyrinthine paths she had never anticipated. Yet, each step she took seemed to plunge her further into the abyss, a web of treachery and paranoia spun around her. The very act of seeking to break free had exposed her to perils that she had never encountered before. Amidst the urban sprawl, the whispers of her enemies reverberated through the narrow alleys like a haunting symphony, their words laced with threats that seeped into her consciousness. The alleys, once familiar and nondescript, now bore witness to her desperate flight, each shadow concealing potential danger. The sensation of being hunted, of being the prey, intensified with each passing moment, and the weight of her actions bore down upon her like an anvil. Then, in the midst of this swirling chaos, a revelation struck like a bolt of lightning. Her own mind, pushed to the brink of endurance, had turned against her. The menacing figures that had seemingly emerged from the shadows, the malevolent eyes that seemed to follow her every move, were nothing more than phantoms birthed from her fractured psyche. It was a manifestation of her deepest fears, a testament to the toll that this harrowing journey had exacted on her fragile mental state. As the realization took hold, an overwhelming sense of isolation gripped her. She stood at the intersection of reality and delusion, torn between the world she knew and the twisted fantasies her mind conjured. It was a battle fought not only in the physical realm but within the recesses of her own consciousness. In her quest to safeguard herself from the external threats that lurked, Judy found refuge in the sanctuary of her own mind. A cave of introspection, a realm where she could assert control and seek solace. This inner sanctum became her fortress, her last bastion against the encroaching darkness. In her newfound sanctuary, a peculiar ritual emerged—a dance of desperation and reclamation. Carving symbols onto the walls of her mental refuge became a poignant ritual, a method of reclaiming power over a life that had spiraled into chaos. Each stroke of her mental chisel was a declaration of her will, a testament to her determination not to be consumed by the storms that raged both around her and within. But even as she sought shelter within the depths of her mind, the storm was far from over. The tempest that had engulfed her existence continued to roar, its echoes reverberating through the corridors of her thoughts. The path ahead remained shrouded in uncertainty, a tangle of intrigue and danger that she had only begun to unravel. With each step she took, she was drawn further into a world where truth and deception danced, and where the boundaries of reality and illusion blurred into a surreal tapestry of challenges yet to come.

## The End of the Running.. for now.

Amidst the tumultuous streets of Valentine, a pivotal moment of Judy's fate unraveled like a dark tapestry woven with threads of trepidation and inevitability. It was a day bathed in a deceptive calm, a deceptive calm that would soon be shattered by an encounter that would seal her destiny in the most unexpected way. As she stood outside a weathered hotel, waiting for her sister Ezra to emerge, the air carried the weight of tension and anticipation. The very ground beneath her seemed to pulse with an undercurrent of unease, as if the city itself held its breath in anticipation of what was to come. The shadows lengthened, and the distant echoes of footsteps reverberated through the streets, creating a symphony of suspense. And then, as if summoned by a malevolent force, her gaze shifted down the road. There, standing amidst the drifting crowd, was Saint. Her presence was an omen, a harbinger of doom that sent shivers racing down Judy's spine. The woman's gaze locked onto Judy, a predatory focus that sent a jolt of terror coursing through her veins. Slowly, almost leisurely, Saint began to move – a casual stroll that soon escalated into a purposeful stride, then a determined run. Panic clawed at Judy's throat, her heart racing like a wild beast desperate to escape its confines. She called out to her sister, her voice an urgent plea, and raced toward a nearby horse, her desperate fingers fumbling to grasp the reins. Beside her, Ezra mirrored her haste, leaping onto the horse in a desperate bid to escape the encroaching danger. Just as they were on the cusp of fleeing, before they could gallop away from the looming threat, a sudden and searing impact struck Judy's form. The world turned upside down as a vicious bola struck her with unforgiving force, sending her plummeting to the ground. Her body collided with the earth in a harsh collision, a shockwave of pain rippling through her. As she hit the ground, her head connected with a jarring thud, sending a surge of dizziness coursing through her senses. Dazed and disoriented, Judy gazed upwards, her vision blurred by the shock of impact. The sky above her seemed to swirl, an abstract dance of colors and shapes that offered little comfort. Waves of nausea washed over her, leaving her struggling to orient herself amidst the chaos that surrounded her. As she struggled to regain her senses, a man rushed over her prone form, his voice piercing the fog of her disorientation. "We got her!" the man's voice rang out, a triumphant declaration that pierced the air like a blade. Fear clenched around Judy's heart, constricting like a vice as her vision slowly sharpened. The man's presence above her was a reminder of her vulnerability, a reminder that her desperate flight had been in vain. He hoisted her up, a relentless grip that left her with no choice but to comply as he escorted her through the bustling streets of Valentine. The world around her seemed to transform into a hostile landscape. The very people who had once walked these streets now jeered and spat, their voices a cacophony of condemnation. Accusations hurled like stones, words that cut deeper than any blade. The weight of their judgment bore down on her, each step through town a gauntlet of humiliation and shame. Hours later, locked within the confines of a cold and unforgiving cell, Judy's world had contracted to the confines of those four walls. The distant echoes of the people outside became a deafening roar, a chorus of disdain that seeped into her very soul. Their voices were a relentless reminder of her fall from grace, a symphony of scorn that reverberated through her thoughts. As Judy huddled within the cold embrace of her cell, the hours stretched on, each tick of the clock a reminder of her impending fate. Her once defiant resolve had crumbled, replaced by a sense of vulnerability that left her trembling. The walls of her confinement felt like a cage, a testament to the fact that even the most desperate of flights could lead to a harsh reality from which there was no escape. And amidst the cacophony of voices and the suffocating weight of her situation, something new emerged – the sound of a voice that seemed to worm its way into the very fabric of her thoughts. It was Saint's voice, a chilling whisper that taunted and tormented her. In the stillness of the cell, the words echoed, each syllable a reminder of her perceived failure, a reminder that she was ensnared in a web of her own making. In the midst of her torment, Judy's gaze lifted, her eyes seeking refuge in the cold, unforgiving expanse of her cell. But what she saw was not the sterile walls that surrounded her. Instead, the figure that materialized before her eyes was not that of lawmen, but of Saint herself. The contours of her face seemed to warp and shift, the lines between reality and illusion blurring. In that chilling moment, it was as if the very essence of Saint had infiltrated her perception, a specter that haunted her very existence. As the hours dragged on, the voices of the crowd outside her cell grew louder, a relentless barrage of screams and taunts that punctuated her isolation. She was a prisoner not only of iron bars but of her own choices, trapped within the echoing chambers of her own mind. The yells of the people outside were a symphony of condemnation, a reminder that she was alone in a world that had turned against her. Terrified and battered by the unrelenting onslaught of both external and internal turmoil, Judy found herself adrift in a sea of uncertainty. The storm she had unwittingly set in motion raged on, its tempestuous winds carrying her ever closer to the precipice of an uncertain fate.

## The Silence

**As time went on, Judy was charged of serial assaults and sent to Sisika with a future court date, determining if she'd be liable of a hanging or not, in the mean time, a psyche eval was preformed on Judy, declaring her not sane.**

*"During the days of my sentence, I remembered the whispers within the walls, the terror that remained outside, all of the Lawmen thought I feared them. They thought I was scared of them and wasn't ready to die, but if dying was the only way I could get away from **her** or get away from my thoughts, and my visions, it seemed like a good way to go. All I could have in my head, was I knew she was out there and I knew she was coming but no one listened to me." ~Judy*

In the fragile realm of sleep, Judy's consciousness was jolted awake by the distant echoes of footsteps reverberating through the corridor. Panic surged within her, an instinctive response to the ominous presence drawing near. Disoriented and filled with dread, she cast a desperate gaze around her surroundings. The jail cell was a cage, a confining space that felt like a trap closing in around her. With a racing heart, Judy's instincts kicked into overdrive, and she scrambled from the bed in a bid for escape. Her eyes locked onto the window, the moonlight casting eerie shadows across the room. Desperation fueled her movements as she lunged toward the only potential avenue of freedom. But as her fingers grazed the window bars, reality crashed down upon her like a heavy wave. There was no glass to shatter, no open space to slip through. The window was secured by iron bars and a stubborn lock, an impenetrable barrier that dashed her hopes of a swift exit. Panic intensified as she realized the futility of her efforts, her heart sinking as the sound of approaching danger grew louder. Outside the cell, chaos erupted with a violent force. The clash of metal against metal, the cries of conflict, and the unrelenting turmoil painted a vivid picture of the breach in progress. The realization that The Saints were here, storming the jail with brutal intent, sent Judy's pulse racing. Fear and determination warred within her, torn between the impulse to hide and the urge to flee. Judy's heart raced like a trapped bird, fluttering wildly within the confines of her chest, as the unmistakable sound of Saint's high-heeled boots echoed down the corridor. The approaching footsteps were a haunting melody of impending doom, each click sending a shiver down Judy's spine. Fear coursed through her veins, an all-consuming force that seemed to tighten its grip with every passing second. As the sound drew nearer, Judy's frantic efforts to pry open the door intensified. Desperation lent strength to her trembling fingers, and she clawed at the bars and the lock with a fervor born of sheer terror. The cold metal resisted her touch, a cruel reminder of her vulnerability. Beads of sweat formed on her brow as she fought against the unyielding barrier, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The cacophony of chaos outside the cell seemed to intensify, a symphony of violence and aggression that painted a stark contrast to Judy's plight. The clashing of weapons, the shouts of conflict, and the guttural sounds of struggle formed a discordant chorus that underscored the danger that loomed just beyond her cell walls. Amidst the tumult, the voice of Saint rose above the chaos, a chilling command that sent Judy's heart into overdrive. "Find her and let's get the hell out of here!" The words were a stark reminder that Judy's time was running out. Her fingers scraped against the bars with renewed desperation, the cold metal biting into her skin. But as much as she fought, the door remained obstinately closed, a barrier that seemed to mock her attempts at escape. Panic surged within her, an overwhelming sense of helplessness that threatened to drown her in a sea of despair. And then, as if conjured by her darkest fears, Saint appeared in the doorway, an ominous silhouette bathed in the pale moonlight. The sight of her sent tremors through Judy's body, her breath hitching in her throat as a mixture of terror and resignation washed over her. The room seemed to close in around her, the walls of her prison like a vise that tightened with each passing moment. Saint's approach was deliberate, her high-heeled boots clicking against the cold floor like a metronome of dread. Judy's gaze locked onto her, a mix of fear and a strange fascination holding her in place. The shadows danced across Saint's features, casting an enigmatic mask that seemed to mirror the complex web of emotions within Judy herself. And then, Saint's voice sliced through the air, a whisper that was both haunting and eerily tender. "Judy... oh how I've been waiting for you... why run away from me, my child...?" The words were a chilling paradox, a strange blend of familiarity and the unknown. Judy's heart seemed to seize in her chest as the weight of Saint's words settled upon her like a heavy fog. The question lingered in the air, a riddle that tugged at the corners of her mind. It was as if Saint's words held a deeper meaning, a cryptic message that Judy struggled to decipher. In that moment, the tension between them was palpable, a charged energy that seemed to hang in the air like a tangible force. Judy turned her gaze slowly, her eyes meeting Saint's. The moonlight illuminated their faces, casting their features in stark relief against the backdrop of darkness. Fear mingled with curiosity, uncertainty intertwined with a strange sense of recognition. Judy's heart was a tempest of conflicting emotions, a maelstrom of fear and longing that threatened to consume her. The encounter in the jail cell was a collision of their fates, a convergence of two individuals bound by a twisted destiny. As Saint stood in the doorway, a haunting figure bathed in moonlight, Judy stood poised at the precipice of a choice that could change everything.

## Someone to the rescue

It was a few months after the break out that Ezra found Judy, in a desolate little house out in the unforgiving desert. Her sister's form was battered and bruised, a testament to the torment she had endured. The sight was heartbreaking, a stark reminder of the cruelties that had been inflicted upon her. Judy, battered and broken, shunned Ezra away, her eyes a mixture of pain and defiance. The scars, both physical and emotional, ran deep, creating a barrier between them. The wounds of their shared suffering seemed insurmountable, and Judy's instinct was to protect her sister from the darkness that had consumed her own soul. But Ezra was unyielding, her love transcending the walls Judy had erected. She refused to be turned away, her determination unwavering even in the face of Judy's rejection. With a stubborn resolve, she persisted, her voice filled with a quiet yet unshakeable determination. She refused to let her sister succumb to the abyss, even when it seemed that all hope was lost. Saint's manipulative influence had left a profound mark on Judy's psyche, distorting her self-worth and filling her mind with a corrosive belief that she deserved nothing but pain and suffering. The seeds of doubt and self-loathing that Saint had sown took root, intertwining with Judy's thoughts like thorns. It was as if Saint's influence had become a prison within Judy's own mind, one from which she struggled to break free. Their interactions were a delicate dance of pain and healing, a push and pull between the past they shared and the future they longed for. Ezra's presence became a source of strength, a reminder that Judy was not alone in her struggle. The bond between them was a lifeline, a lifeline that Judy could cling to even as she teetered on the brink of despair. Ezra's annoyance was a lifeline that pulled Judy from the depths, a lifeline that ultimately led to their shared determination to escape the clutches of torment. The plan they hatched together was a glimmer of light in the suffocating darkness, a beacon of hope that represented their shared defiance against their captors. In their united front, they found the strength to face the challenges ahead, to navigate the treacherous path to freedom together, hand in hand, sisters bound by an unbreakable bond.

## To be continued..

The alliance with The Sleydons proved to be a lifeline for Judy, a glimmer of hope amidst the suffocating darkness that had surrounded her for so long. It was a chance, a rare opportunity to break free from the shackles that had bound her to a life of torment and manipulation. As evidence emerged and her charges were dropped, a sense of renewed purpose coursed through Judy's veins, rekindling the flicker of her spirit that had nearly been extinguished. The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions and preparations. The weight of the past began to lift, replaced by the anticipation of what lay ahead. It was a precarious balance between trepidation and hope, as Judy readied herself for the true test that awaited – a confrontation with Saint, the enigmatic figure who had once been both her savior and her tormentor. The reckoning that loomed on the horizon was the culmination of years of pain, manipulation, and fear. It was a confrontation that had been brewing beneath the surface, an inevitable clash between two forces that were inexorably linked. In the shadow of this looming confrontation, Judy's emotions were a tempest, a mixture of anger, resentment, and a newfound strength that she had fought so hard to cultivate. The pivotal moment arrived, a charged exchange that took place on the edge of a bridge, the abyss below mirroring the depth of their shared history. As they stood face to face, a veil of tension hung heavy in the air, each word spoken laden with layers of meaning and subtext. The conversation was a dangerous dance, a motherly bond that masked sinister intentions, a guise that Judy saw through with a clarity she had never possessed before. "Here to kill me now?" Judy's words cut through the tense silence, her voice laced with defiance as she confronted the woman who had once held her captive. "Turning against your own mother now?" Saint's voice was a mixture of surprise and hurt, her words dripping with a feigned innocence that Judy recognized as a façade. "I thought you were my child.. my true child." Judy fought back, her resolve unyielding. "You're not my mother, you're my abuser." Saint's expression twisted with anger, but she wasn't about to give up her manipulative tactics. "Oh, my dear Judy," she cooed, her voice dripping with honeyed venom. "You always did have a tendency to misunderstand things. I've only ever wanted what's best for you, guided you like a mother should." Judy's gaze remained steady, unflinching. She had come to see through the veneer of care that Saint tried to paint over her actions. "You manipulated me, used me for your own ends. That's not what a mother does." A dark laugh escaped Saint's lips, her mask of innocence slipping further. "You were always so naïve, my dear. I gave you purpose, meaning. Without me, you'd be nothing." Judy's hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She refused to let Saint's words penetrate her resolve. "No, I found strength in spite of you. And I won't let you control me any longer." The tension in the air escalated, the emotions in the air crackling like lightning. The bridge seemed to tremble beneath the weight of their confrontation, the past and present colliding in a storm of emotions. Judy's heart raced, her chest heaving with the weight of years of suppressed rage and pain. But in that charged moment, as Saint's manipulative words collided with Judy's unyielding determination, a shift occurred. The power dynamic that had once been so skewed had begun to right itself, a testament to Judy's growth and newfound strength. The bridge that had once represented a path of torment had now become a symbol of her liberation, a testament to the strength she had found within herself to break free and forge a new path forward. "I think it's time I change the story." Judy quoted. Saint confused, staring into her eyes as Judy walked closer and put her hand up to shake her hand. "Let me go my way, and you can go your way. Agreed?" Saint looked down at Judy's hand, in confusion she looked up at Judy and chuckled. "Truce?" Saint remarked. "Truce." Judy stated. That's when Saint leaned in and grabbed Judy's hand, The Sleydon's behind Judy pointing a gun at Saint's head, along with Saint's members pointing a gun at theirs if they made any sudden movements. Then silence fell upon the bridge and Saint met Judy's eyes slowly with a single word being said from her mouth "La Mort." Judy confused, one of The Saint's made a shot towards The Sleydon's, Judy quickly turned to run when Saint grabbed her and draped her across the railing of the bridge, in fear she'd fall, she turned around and grabbed Saint by the back of her hair and pushed her against the railing as a fight brought out behind them, people getting shot. Judy stared into her eyes and said her final words. "I really wanted you to be my mother. I really wanted us to work, but you can't escape your past and what you said once before about me killing you, it's gonna happen someday. And that day, is today." That's when Judy brought out a knife that Saint gifted her when she was a child and stabbed it into Saint's stomach, Saint gasping for her and staring into Judy's eyes in fear. Judy smiled a sinister smile and pushed her off a bridge, watching her fall into the water, she turn and ran and so did the remaining of Saint's members.

## Ruthless

Now, Judy lives in hiding, a phoenix risen from the ashes of a life consumed by darkness. The trauma of the past a heavy burden, but the hope of a new beginning a guiding light. She navigates the path ahead, haunted by the memories of her journey, scarred by the pain she endured, but also fueled by the strength she found within herself. In the heart of the storm, she emerged, a survivor of a tumultuous odyssey, a testament to the indomitable spirit that can weather even the most relentless of trials.

**Information:**

The Author of Judy Kiramman is writing a book named "Bleeding Dahlia" based around Judy's life and backstory.

Find more out more in the future.