Of course! Here's the full revised version of your scene, improved for grammar, clarity, emotional impact, and pacing. It keeps all your dramatic elements intact while making it easier to read and more powerful.
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Hotel Room – Maria's Breaking Point
The door of the hotel room creaked open as Mr. Andrew stepped in. He chuckled while unbuttoning his shirt, his gaze landing on Maria's weak body lying on the bed.
"Babygirl," he sneered, "we're going to have a lot of fun tonight. And if you satisfy me, maybe I'll marry you. If not, you'll just be my mistress. Got it?"
He turned on a camera and placed it on the table, aiming it at the bed.
"Get away from me," Maria snapped, shifting to the edge of the bed.
"You can't run," Andrew growled. "This is your destiny."
He jumped toward her.
---
Elsewhere – Mike's Office
"Sir, we found where Maria is staying," Jordan said, standing before Mike, who was calmly reading a novel. "She's not at her house, but we've placed people to watch her without her noticing."
Mike closed his book slowly. "She's not home…" he murmured, tapping his fingers on the desk. "Then where is she?"
"I investigated. She's at a hotel. Oliver texted her to go there," Jordan answered, bowing slightly.
Mike's eyes narrowed. He pulled out his phone and dialed Maria's residence. Someone picked up.
"Go save Maria! She's in danger!" Oliver's voice screamed through the phone before Mike hung up abruptly.
Oliver dropped the receiver, her hands trembling as they moved to her forehead.
"What have they done…" she whispered, panic growing in her eyes. She already knew Mike had a spy inside the house and he would act immediately.
Mike stood, putting away his phone. He opened a drawer, pulled out a pistol, and headed for the door. Jordan followed instantly, signaling to the bodyguards to come.
---
Flashback – Earlier That Day
Oliver had been getting ready to meet Maria when her mother stopped her.
"Where are you going?" her mom asked.
"To meet Maria."
"Why that ungrateful girl? She's not family anymore," her grandmother snapped.
"She is to me," Oliver replied calmly. "And why are you treating her like this? In this crisis, we should be united. I support Maria leaving the house. I'll handle the company issues, so please, don't do anything reckless."
Her mom softened a little. "Of course I trust you. And… I'll try to get closer to Maria. She's my daughter too." She smiled faintly. "I even made breakfast. These past few days have made me realize how important it is for us to be together."
"You cooked?" Oliver smiled. "That's rare."
She went to the dining room. "Mom, this looks amazing," she said, digging in.
But a few bites in, dizziness took over. She clutched her head, vision spinning.
In the kitchen, Maria's mother whispered nervously, "Do we really have to do this? Oliver's back—she can fix things. Why target Maria again? I hate getting close to her"
"That child's a curse," the grandmother snapped. "She does nothing but wants everything. She's like her mother—a leech. Time to marry her off and protect the family name."
"I'm not a leech!" Maria's mother snapped back. "I gave everything to this family—I didn't hide my dowry or inheritance like someone else!"
"Are you talking back to me?!" the grandmother roared. "Take Oliver to her room now!"
"Ma… what did you do?" Oliver whispered weakly as her mother lifted her from the chair and carried her away.
---
Back at the Hotel
As Andrew leapt toward her, Maria pulled the knife she had hidden behind her back and plunged it into his shoulder.
"AAGGHH!" he screamed.
She shoved him backward and jumped on top of him, fists flying, smashing his face over and over. One of his hands shielded his face while the other tried to rip out the knife.
Maria bit her lip until it bled. Her eyes were wild. She grabbed a shard of glass from the floor and slashed her own palm, forcing her senses to sharpen. Gritting her teeth, she yanked the knife from his shoulder and stabbed again.
And again.
And again.
Her eyes were dark and void of light—haunted by memories.
This man had raped her before.
Maria's scream filled the room as she stabbed him with unrelenting fury. Blood splattered. He kicked her, but she didn't stop.
"BITCH! I'LL KILL YOU!" Andrew roared, eyes wild with pain as he tried to crawl away.
"GUARDS! COME IN!" he screamed. "BREAK HER LIMBS! LET EVERY MAN HERE USE HER!"
Two guards burst into the room.
But Maria was ready.
She grabbed her bag, pulled out a gun, and without hesitation—
BANG! BANG!
Both men fell, blood pouring from their heads.
Andrew froze.
Maria stood tall, holding the gun. Her hands didn't shake. Her eyes—cold, emotionless—bore into him.
She laughed.
Tears ran down her cheeks as flashes from her past danced in her mind.
She had walked into a hotel just like this one, trying to help her family. Instead, she was drugged. Andrew and his friends had touched her unconscious body. She had woken up naked, with Andrew beside her. Mike had stormed in, blood in his eyes. She had been locked up afterward, passed around, shamed. Her family—the ones she saved—sold her off and disowned her.
But not this time.
Not again.
This time, she was the hunter, not the prey.
This time, she would kill anyone who tried to use her.
Family love?
Be damned.
Andrew dropped to the floor, crawling backward. His eyes locked on Maria as she laughed, sobbed
Certainly! Here's your scene fully rewritten for grammar, clarity, tension, and dramatic pacing, while preserving the original intensity and psychological horror:
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Of course! Here's the revised version of your scene again, with improved grammar, suspense, and emotional intensity:
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Maria's Turn – The Hunter and the Hunted
Maria's gaze hardened like steel as she slowly stood up, blood drying on her hands. Her shadow stretched across the hallway, long and silent.
"Stay away from me! Stay away!" Andrew screamed, staggering to his feet, holding his bleeding shoulder as he bolted out the door.
He ran, panting, stumbling through the hallway—his plan now turning into a nightmare. He had booked the entire floor. Even the two above and below were cleared. No guests, no witnesses. He had even told the staff to stop the elevator.
It was supposed to be perfect.
No escape for her.
Now he was the one trapped—and screaming for help.
If I survive this, he thought, I'll kill her. I'll kill her whole family.
Shaking, he pulled out his phone and called his men. "Get up here now! She—"
BANG!
A gunshot cracked through the hallway.
"AHHH!" Andrew screamed, collapsing as a bullet ripped through his leg.
He turned his head, eyes wide with terror.
Maria was walking toward him.
Calmly.
Peacefully.
Dragging the gun along the wall, the metal scraping loud and sharp like a butcher's knife.
Her lips curled into a soft smile, as if she were on a quiet evening stroll.
Then, without a word—she raised the gun again and fired.
BANG!
The bullet hit his hand. Blood sprayed as Andrew screamed, cradling his mangled fingers.
Maria lifted her index finger to her lips.
"Hush…" she whispered gently. "No screaming. You'll disturb the neighbors. That's very rude."
She stepped closer, kneeling just a little to meet his eyes.
Maria leaned in slightly, her smile sweet—unnaturally so.
"Let's play a game," she whispered, voice soft and cold. "Hide and shoot."
Her finger tapped gently on the gun.
"If I catch you…" she said, lips curling into a grin, "I shoot."
She stood up straighter, her head tilting slightly to the side.
"so run run run little dog if I catch you....i will kill you."
She chuckled softly, a sound that didn't belong to the blood-soaked scene around her. It was light. Innocent. Like a child playing pretend.
"Run, Andrew," she whispered, "Run."
Andrew's blood ran cold. His body shook as he crawled backward, slipping in the blood he left behind.
"M-Monster…" he sobbed. "You're a monster…"
Maria only smiled brighter, dragging the gun along the wall. The screeching sound echoed like death's laugh.
Andrew bolted up the staircase, blood dripping from his shoulder, panic in his every step. At the landing, he finally saw his remaining three bodyguards.
"Help me!" he cried.
One of the guards rushed forward and caught him just as he nearly collapsed. Without hesitation, the other two turned to face the threat—Maria.
Maria didn't hesitate either.
The first guard lunged at her. She sidestepped swiftly, grabbed his arm mid-swing, twisted it, and ran up the wall beside him. With a fluid spin, she launched herself off the wall and landed a brutal kick to the second guard's temple.
The crack was loud.
The second guard's body crumpled.
Before the first could recover, she yanked him down by the collar, grabbed his hair, and slammed her kneecap into his face—once, twice. Blood spattered.
The third guard turned to run with Andrew.
Maria raised her gun—her hand shaking, her breath ragged—and fired.
Bang.
The bullet struck the guard in the back, and he collapsed, dragging Andrew down with him.
Maria stumbled, dizzy. The drug in her system was taking hold again—making her weak, making her hot. Her vision blurred.
She groaned and staggered toward the wall, slamming her head against it.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
"Focus," she whispered, running a trembling hand through her blood-matted hair.
She limped forward, entering the room Andrew had crawled into.
---
Downstairs – Hell Arrives
Mike stepped out of the car, his black coat flaring behind him. The hotel manager was already waiting nervously at the door.
Mike didn't slow down.
He stormed past the receptionist, grabbed the guestbook from the counter, and flipped through the pages.
"Where is she…" he muttered, eyes scanning quickly.
"Sir—w-we can't let you—"
Mike didn't even glance up. He turned and marched to the elevator.
The manager followed, panicking. "Sir! The elevator… it—it isn't working!"
Mike stopped.
His eyes turned to the manager—cold, sharp, furious.
"Why isn't the elevator working?" he asked, his voice low and deadly, like a demon whispering from the depths of hell.
"I-It broke down earlier… I-I swear it just needs repairs," the manager stuttered, lowering his gaze.
Crack!
Mike's fist connected with the manager's jaw.
The man stumbled, groaning in pain, but it didn't end there. Mike pulled out his gun and pressed it against the manager's forehead.
The man trembled. Then—he wet himself.
"I… I was wrong… I was greedy… please…"
Mike chuckled darkly, pressing his tongue into his cheek.
Then—bam!—he kicked the man hard in the head, sending him crashing to the ground.
Without another word, Mike turned and ran to the stairs. The bodyguards followed close behind.
In the lobby, Jordan arrived, surveying the chaos as the rest of the guards surrounded the hotel.
"To the guests and workers…" Jordan said, calmly. "You didn't see anything."
A few nervous nods answered him.
The bodyguards ushered everyone out quickly. Once the lobby was empty, Jordan raised a hand. Two men grabbed the unconscious manager and dragged him away, his fate already sealed death is the cold embrace waiting for him
Third Floor – The Final Room
Mike sprinted up the stairs, three steps at a time. His heart was pounding. When he reached the second landing, he saw them—two of Andrew's bodyguards, unconscious and bloodied.
Mike's jaw clenched. He slammed his fist into the wall beside them, cracking the plaster.
Then—a scream.
It came from down the hallway.
Mike didn't wait.
He burst down the corridor toward the third floor suite and kicked the door open.
What he saw made his blood boil.
Maria was on the floor, her head bleeding, eyes dazed.
Andrew was on top of her, hands around her throat, growling as he choked her.
But Maria was choking him too, her fingers clawing at his neck, refusing to die without a fight.
Mike didn't think.
He roared and charged forward.
BAM!
His foot landed squarely on Andrew's back, sending him flying off Maria.
Andrew hit the floor hard, gasping.
Mike stood between them now, eyes blazing red, like death itself had entered the room.