The Song of death
Reina: The Queen of Terror © 2025 by Naomi All rights reserved. All materials, content, and intellectual property, including but not limited to text, images, graphics, logos, audio, video, and software, made available on publications, or other platforms, are protected by copyright laws and owned by the Owner unless otherwise stated
Trigger Warning:
Graphic Violence- cartel-related brutality, torture, and murder
Emotional & Physical Abuse- past trauma and abusive relationships
Childhood Trauma– including loss, neglect, and exposure to violence
Strong Language
Sexual Content
Drug Use / Cartel Activity– depictions of drug trafficking and its impact
Psychological Manipulation
Guns / Weapons
Death & Grief– loss of loved ones, revenge themes
Female Violence– acts of vengeance from the female protagonist
Religious Imagery / Blasphemy
Mental Health – PTSD, dissociation, emotional shutdown
Now let's get on with the show
Chapter 1-The Song of death
Every woman has a story to be told, each one unique and filled with its own joys and tragedies.
But my story... my story is one that the world will soon have to face. It is a tale that will leave you either crying for me or cursing my name.
Yet, when all is said and done, I will rise from the ashes and embrace life with every gasping breath, refusing to regret any of the choices I’ve made.
My story will be a testament to strength and resilience, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is always hope for a brighter future,
Even if that future results in my own death.
“Tu, solo Tu” .(..You, you only you)....I begin to sing..
“Has llenado de luto mi vida” (You have filled my life with mourning)
“Abriendo una herida en mi corazón” (Opening every wound, in my heart)
“Tú, tú, solo tú” (You, you only you)
“Eres causa de todo mi llanto” (You’re the cause of my weeping)
“De mi desencanto y desesperación” (Of my disappointment and despair)
Reina
“Dice que estoy llorando por tu querer…” I hum softly, the melody slipping past my lips, filling the tense air with its haunting tone.
“Stop it, Reina… don’t sing, it’s fucking creepy…” Andres mutters, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and annoyance.
“Borracha y apasionada, no más por…con...” I smirk, stopping mid-song, my voice trailing off into the heavy silence that fills the room. The tension hangs thick, almost tangible,
My eyes narrow in concentration as I tap my finger against my chin.The taste of adrenaline sharpens my senses, making every sound and sight around me painfully clear.
I shift my gaze, catching the glint of Cero’s eyes across the dimly lit room.
His figure is partially dimmed by the shadows, but I can see the faint smirk playing on his lips, the way his eyebrows raise in amusement, he’s use to my performances, one could say he even loves it.
His presence always grounds me in moments like these; he is not only my right-hand man, he is my best friend.
I take a deep breath,.. The song’s lyrics still linger on the tip of my tongue, waiting for the next line-
"Is it ‘por’ or ‘con tu amor’?” I ask, turning to Cero, who’s standing in the corner, partially obscured by shadows.
"It wouldn’t make sense with ‘con’...”
He closes the distance, his movements slow and deliberate. He knows exactly what is to come.
"Ahh true… por tu amor… mira como ando mi bien…”
I raise my hand into the air, letting the music flow through me, momentarily lost in the melody.
"Oh, she’s getting to the high notes. You know what happens, don’t you?” He looks over at the imbecile who is tied to the chair… Andres, my boyfriend of two fucking long years.
"Come on, Reina… I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to—”
I halt my pacing, the sharp clacking of my heels against the concrete floor stopping abruptly. The sudden silence heightens the tension in the room.
I lower myself onto the edge of the table, the cool surface pressing against the back of my thighs. Reaching out, I grasp the bottom of his chair and pull it closer. The metal pegs scrape against the floor with a screech.
The sound vibrates in the stillness as I draw him nearer, closing the space between the predator and prey.
"Fuck, you messed with my song, pendejo,” I hiss, my voice a low, dangerous whisper.
"Look, I said—” He begins to stutter as if it will make a difference, but anyone in this position would lie to get themselves out of the situation.
They always stutter when they get caught.
"Yeah… you didn’t mean to, baby?” I repeat, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "It seems to always be the same shit. I’ve seen it in movies and novelas, but I must say this is a first and—"
I lean in until the distance between us is nearly nonexistent, our faces so close that I can feel the heat of his breath mingling with mine, and each exhale is a blend of anguish and fear.
His eyes are wide, almost pleading, they are inches from mine, every flicker of emotion clearly visible.
Slowly, I reach up, my fingers brush against his forehead before they glide through the strands of his long dark hair.
With an almost tender motion, I tuck his hair behind his ears, my fingertips lingering on his skin for a second longer than necessary.
This gesture could be considered intimate and in any other circumstance, one might even think...romantic.
But it’s far from it.
A slow, menacing smile spreads across my lips, a cruel glint dancing in my eyes.
"Reina, baby…"
"What? Huh? Let me guess, you didn’t mean to do it? Hmm… tell me… papi… what is it that you didn’t mean to do?"
"I… I…” His voice cracks, fear paralyzing his words.
"You know,” I whisper, my voice dripping with malice,
"I’ve always loved this hair of yours. It’s a shame it belongs to someone so...so...well, someone like you-"
He winces, and a small gasp escapes from his lips. I relish at the sound, the way his discomfort feeds my own dark satisfaction. Leaning closer, I let my lips brush against his ear, my voice drops to a chilling murmur.
"Remember when you promised you’d never hurt me? When you said you’d always be there? Funny how those promises mean nothing now."
I release his hair abruptly, watching with twisted delight as his head snaps forward. The fear in his eyes is palpable, a delicious reminder of the power I hold over him.
"I wonder,” I continue, my tone mocking and sweet,"what other promises you break before I’m done with you....Mmm… you were such a good fuck… such a waste…"
In one swift motion, I leap off the table, my feet hitting the ground with a solid thud, the sound resonating through the room—a stark reminder of my dominance.
The impact reverberates up my legs, grounding me in my resolve.
As I stand tall, the room’s dim light casts a long shadow, enhancing the menacing aura that envelops me. I take a moment to adjust my stance, the click of my heels on the cold floor adding a rhythmic sound.
My eyes never leave him. I savour in the fear of his gaze, in the uncertainty that fills them as I prepare for my next move.
"Reina… please… baby… you know that I love—"
I close the distance once again, and in a fierce motion, my hand arches through the air with deadly precision. My palm connects with his cheek in a resounding slap, the impact reverberating through the room like a gunshot. The force of the blow snaps his head to the side, and a red imprint instantly blooms on his skin.
His eyes are wide in shock and pain, the sound of his own ragged breathing is the only noise breaking the heavy silence. I can hear everyone in the room holding their breath.
My hand stings like a bitch from the contact, but the satisfaction of seeing him cower was fucking worth it. I stand over him, a dark smile playing on my lips, as I savor the raw power I hold over his pitiful existence.
"Don’t you fucking say that you love me, someone who loves doesn’t stick their dick in another fucking pussy!"
His eyes widen, and he’s fucking speechless. Of course, he is. He knows I’m right.
But I have to get more information from him. I need more confirmation. I roll my shoulders back, cracking my neck. Cero comes to my side, rubbing my shoulders.
“You okay, muñeca(doll)? Neck hurts?"
"Yeah, just a bit… all this fucking stress…"
Andres glares at us, his face contorting with jealousy and anger.
"Muñeca? Are you fucking him?"
This idiot really thinks he can play this card right now.
A surge of frustration and amusement bubbles up inside me. I lock eyes with Cero, he knows it show time. Without breaking eye contact, I grab him by the collar, yanking him towards me with a forceful tug. Our lips collide in a fierce, possessive kiss.
"Mmm…” I moan, the sound low and throaty. Cero responds instantly, his hand sliding up to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair.
He pulls me closer, his kiss deepening with an unexpected hunger. There’s a raw, wild passion in the way he kisses me this time. He’s not kissing me like we usually do; when we kiss, it’s to put on a performance.
This didn’t feel like it was meant for show. It’s as if he’s been holding back, and now he’s letting all that pent-up desire flow freely.
I feel the heat between us, it’s an electric current that seems to ignite my very soul. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing the intensity of our kiss.
When I finally pull away, I do it slowly, savoring the lingering taste of him on my lips. I turn my head just enough to see Andres, his expression a mix of anger and disbelief.
A smirk curls my lips as I gaze at this pathetic excuse for a man, his face contorted with jealousy and rage.
"Maybe I am, maybe I’m not," I purr.
"Pinche zorra(fucking slut)!” He yells.
"Excuse me.”
"Me escuchaste, ¿no? Zorra.(you heard me, whore?)” He repeats, his voice trembling with fury.
"I did hear you right, huh…funny… Cero…" I snap my fingers.
“On it.” Cero rushes to Andres’s side and starts to untie him-
“What… what are you doing?”
“Left hand” Cero grabs Andres’s left hand with a vice-like grip and slams it flat on the table.
Andres’s fingers splay out, desperately trying to claw away from the inevitable, but it’s fucking useless. His eyes dart frantically between Cero and me, wide with terror and confusion as he tries to comprehend what is about to happen.
See, this part of my life, he never saw. He only knew Reina, the queen who reigns the streets with a ruthless smile. He never knew Reina, the queen of terror, the one who revels in the pain and fear of those who fuck with her.
"What… what the fuck are you going to do?” His voice trembles, barely above a whisper.
A slow, sadistic smile spreads across my lips as I reach down to the sheath strapped to my thigh. I pull out my knife, the blade catching the dim light twirling it between my fingers, I feel the cold, smooth metal spin effortlessly. The blade sings a chilling whisper as it cuts through the air, a symphony of impending doom.
At first, I wasn’t good at these maneuvers; fuck, I cut and stabbed myself more times than I could count. Scars that tell a fucked up story.
But now… now this knife dances between my fingers like a ballerina on stage, each twirl a story of my skills. I watch as realization dawns on Andres, his face paling even more as the gravity of the situation sinks in.
His struggles intensify, but Cero’s grip is unyielding.
The helplessness in his eyes fuels the dark satisfaction coiling in my chest.
I lean in close, the knife still twirling, a dangerous blur of silver.
"You see, Andres, promises are funny things. They’re so easy to make, yet so easy to break. But actions… actions have consequences.”
I stop twirling the knife, I lower the blade slowly, deliberately, enjoying every second of Andres’s mounting dread.
Again, he has probably only heard rumours. The Reina of the streets is only known for dealing drugs.
"I said don’t!" He begins...
"Don’t what? Oh, this? This won’t do anything."
I stop twirling the knife, letting the cold, smooth blade come to a deliberate halt. With a slow, menacing grin, I slide the knife back into its thigh holder, the metal clicking into place.
I snap my fingers, the sharp sound cutting through the air like a commandment.
"Guero."
"Si, jefa.(yes boss)"
Guero, who has earned his nickname from our twisted sense of affection and irony. But him being, well, blonde is how he got his nickname. He steps forward, knowing exactly what’s next.
His bulky frame moves with a gleam of excitement in his eyes. He hands me the machete, it’s not the biggest one I own, but the heavy weapon is cold and unforgiving in my grip.
The machete is a brutal, imposing tool. It’s one of my favourites. I hold it up, admiring the sheer weight and power it represents.
Andres’s eyes widen, a flicker of pure, unadulterated fear dancing in their depths. And like the fucked up coward he is he beings to tremble.
I run my fingers along the edge of the blade, feeling its sharpness.
The air grows thick with anticipation, each second dragging out.
"Cero, Make sure he doesn’t move."
"Claro, mi reina, just don’t cut me," he smirks.
"Oh baby, you know I wouldn’t hurt you...not on purpose anyways.
Cero’s body clamps down on Andres’s hand, spreading his fingers and forcing him to stay still. You can hear his fingers begin to crack.
But, he can’t move anyway the rest of his body is still tied up. Andres’s struggles are pathetic, his fear palpable and intoxicating.
I take a step closer, the machete heavy and powerful in my hands. I can see the terror in Andres’s eyes, the realization that he has no escape, no mercy to hope for.
The room seems to close in around us, the walls echoing with the silent screams of all those who have crossed me before.
"Now, Andres," I purr, my voice a velvet caress laced with steel, "let’s see just how deep your promises go."
I look at the machete, admiring it, as I run my fingers on it one more time.
"Oh, what a beauty..."
"Don’t fucking…"
"Tu.....Solo...Tu..."I begin to sing my song once more. "Tu, solo tu- eres causa de mi desecanto...y...” 
Chop.
The machete cleaves through the air with a sickening swiftness, its sharp edge sinking deep into flesh and bone.
"Ahhhhhh..."
The impact is visceral, a shuddering jolt that travels up my arm as the blade embeds itself into Andres’s hand. Blood splatters in a crimson arc, painting the table and floor in a macabre tableau.
His screams erupts from deep within, a raw, primal sound of agony that reverberates through the room. His eyes bulge in disbelief and horror as he stares at his now-severed finger lying grotesquely on the table.
The echo of his scream lingers, a haunting reminder of the pain inflicted. I lift the machete, the blood dripping from its blade in slow, deliberate drops.
As I continue to sing, my song...the song of death.
I’m way to fucked up for my own good.
"One down, four to go," I say, my voice cold and devoid of mercy.
I lock eyes with Andres.
"You’re fucking crazy, bitch… está loca… " His voice is a strained whisper, each word laced with pain and disbelief.
He looks up at me, I know how much he fucking hates me, I mean, I would hate me too..but he brought this upon himself. He fucked up!
I lean in close, the machete still held firmly in my grasp. The smell of blood is thick in the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and fear.
"Crazy?" I whisper, a dark smile curling my lips. "You haven’t seen anything yet, querido. This is just the beginning."
Andres’s breathing is ragged, his eyes darting around as if searching for some impossible escape, or maybe someone to help him.
"Now, let’s see how long it takes for you to learn your lesson.
The machete gleams ominously, another promise of what’s to come. I lift it when-
“Está loca, Lucero…(you're crazy)”
I stop mid-air, ready to cut off another finger when he stops me in my tracks with that name… that name.
I hate it with a passion, so many bad memories comes with that name. There are only a few people who know my real name. Lowering the machete, I get right in his face, his expression contorted in pain and fear.
"Who was it?" I hiss, my voice dripping with venom. Blood is spurting from his freshly chopped fingers, the crimson pooling on the table.
“You’re fucking crazy… you just—”
He begins, but I don’t let him finish. I turn around and bring the machete down again, the sickening thud echoing in the room.
"Ahh...puta!"
"Three to go. Who fucking told you my real name?!"
"I’m not saying, mierda!! (shit) "
Gripping the machete with more force, I bring it down, severing his whole left hand. The table shakes with the impact, and Andres’s scream reverberates off the walls.
"Talk, or you won’t even be able to fuck yourself with the other hand!"
The door opens and in walks my best friend, whom one could even say a sister.
"Selena…mi reina hermosa (my beautiful queen)...come have a seat, we need to talk. "
