Jason Pierce was a man who seemed to have everything. He could sing, write, produce, act, and run businesses. People admired him. Fans loved him. Critics praised him. And money flowed into his life like it would never stop.
He had companies, stocks, and a reputation that many envied. He was at the top, and he knew it. But Jason had also worked hard for it. Every song he wrote, every performance he gave, every movie he acted in—he did it all with passion. He wanted to leave a mark on the world, and for a while, it looked like he had.
Then everything changed in a single day.
It started with a news report. Jason didn't understand it at first. People were talking about him, but the words made no sense. "Scandal," they said. "Fraud." "Illegal activities." Jason's heart beat faster. He tried to understand. He read articles, watched videos, listened to the news, but nothing made sense. He hadn't done anything wrong. He had always played fair. He had always worked hard.
And yet, he was being accused.
Within hours, police officers came to his home. Jason's world, which had always felt solid and secure, fell apart like a building made of sand. He was arrested, handcuffed, and led out of his mansion. Fans watched in shock. Reporters shouted questions. Friends avoided his calls. No one believed him.
Jason tried to fight back, but it was useless. The evidence was there, they said. He couldn't understand where it came from. He felt trapped. Betrayed. Alone.
The courts moved fast. His stocks were sold without his permission. His businesses were taken over. His name, which had once opened doors, now made people run in fear. And worst of all… his wife filed for divorce. She had stood by him for years, but even she didn't trust him anymore. In a matter of days, Jason lost everything he had worked for his entire life.
He was sent to jail.
For six long years, Jason sat in a cell. He had time to think. To question. To plan. He kept asking himself the same question over and over: "What did I do?" But the answer never came. The pain of being falsely accused ate at him every day. He could hear the world outside moving on, while he remained trapped in a small, gray room.
People forgot him. People laughed at his name in secret. And still, he waited. He waited and he thought. He remembered everything. Every meeting. Every contract. Every friend who had once smiled at him. And slowly, he began to piece it together.
It was his uncle.
Jason had trusted him. He had welcomed him into his life, shared business ideas, and even gave him access to some of his companies. But behind his smile, his uncle had been planning. He and his friends had set Jason up. They had planted fake evidence, manipulated the law, and made sure everyone turned against him. His uncle had taken all of Jason's money the moment he was arrested. Every penny. Gone.
Jason clenched his fists as he thought about it. "I will make them pay," he whispered.
When he was released from jail, he didn't go back to the world he had lost. Not yet. He had learned his lesson. He had been too open before. But there was one secret he had kept all along—a place nobody knew about. A house that didn't exist on any papers, hidden away from banks, lawyers, and greedy relatives. That house had half of everything he had ever earned. Half of all the money, stocks, and valuables he had worked for, safe from people like his uncle.
Jason went there the moment he could.
The house was quiet, cold, and clean. Nothing inside looked fancy, but that wasn't why he had come. He walked to a hidden panel in the wall. He pressed a button. A small section of the floor slid open. Below it was a room he had built for a very special reason.
Rows of guns lined the walls. Knives of every shape and size were on racks. There were grenades, explosives, and even more tools that could be used to destroy anything. Jason ran his fingers over the handles. He had built this place for emergencies, for revenge, for protection. And now, it was finally time to use it.
For the next two months, Jason trained. Every day. From morning until night, he ran, lifted, practiced with every weapon he had. He tested the guns, learned to throw knives, practiced shooting from rooftops, and planned every step carefully. He didn't just want to attack. He wanted to make sure his uncle would regret ever betraying him.
And after two months, he was ready.
The plan was simple. Get close, take aim, and strike. But Jason knew it wouldn't be easy. His uncle had bodyguards. Security cameras. High walls. Jason studied every movement, every schedule, every detail. He knew exactly when his uncle left the house, and that's when he decided to act.
On the day of revenge, Jason drove his car slowly, keeping a calm face. He parked near a house close to his uncle's mansion. His sniper rifle was ready, hidden in the trunk until he needed it. He climbed to the roof, feeling the wind on his face. Below, the street looked normal, almost peaceful. But Jason's heart was full of fire.
Hours passed. He waited. The sun moved across the sky. And then, finally, his uncle appeared. The man he had once trusted. The man who had stolen his life. The man he had vowed to punish.
Jason took a steady breath. He aimed carefully. One shot.
The bullet hit its mark. Jason's uncle fell to the ground, lifeless.
The bodyguards immediately reacted. They ran toward the roof. Jason didn't hesitate. He fired again. Some fell, screaming in pain. Others kept coming, angry and determined.
Soon, Jason was cornered. His bullets running low. His escape blocked.
He smiled.
There was one more thing he had prepared. A trigger, connected to explosives he had hidden on the roof. He pressed it. The building erupted in fire and smoke. Flames rose, shattering glass and metal. Jason's body was caught in the explosion. His last breath came with a smile, a feeling of satisfaction and freedom he hadn't felt in years.
The next day, the news was full of chaos. Reporters told the story of the explosion, the deaths, and the sudden appearance of a mysterious flash drive. Someone called "Mr. Anonymous" had sent it to the media. On it were the hidden crimes of Jason's uncle—the proof of everything he had done.
The citizens were shocked. Angry. People protested in front of the police station that had once arrested Jason unfairly. The officers who had been involved in the scheme were arrested one by one.
Jason had destroyed himself and his enemies at the same time. Justice, in its own strange way, had been served.
And somewhere, beyond the world he had left, Jason's spirit rested. Free from the lies, free from betrayal, and free from the pain that had haunted him for six long years.
Jason woke up suddenly. He gasped for air. His body shook. His heart raced. Sweat poured down his face.
"Where… am I?" he whispered.
The white ceiling above him looked familiar. Too familiar. He turned his head. To the left, a keyboard and a guitar. To the right, a TV and a mirror.
Jason's breathing quickened. His mind raced. He remembered the fire. The explosion. His revenge. And now… he was somewhere else. Somewhere that didn't exist before.