❛❛ all the crimes he did were made out of love. ❜❜
DISCLAIMER; this was once a chainsaw man book but i changed it into so please if you find any comments from before just don't mind them and if there is any grammar typo where i forgot to change the names just let me know. <3
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the afternoon sun beams relentlessly. you're surprised that no fields have begun to burn, as dry and hot as it is.
you stand near your car, which, to be precise, is not your car at all, and seek some shade under one of the bare, withered trees.
you keep looking over at the white house. hyouma has told you to wait outside, to be careful that no one comes by and calls the police.
because even in this wasteland, someone would pass by and then not bother to call the police, especially since the car is not even suspicious, unless the person read the newspaper and knew that this very car was stolen.
but this probability is rather low, just like the probability that any person drags their ass through this landscape at these temperatures.
bored, you blow a strand of hair out of your face, squat in your flowered summer dress in the grass and play with the black ski mask in your hands.
you decide to whistle at hyouma's instruction and venture towards the house. the door is open and the floor of the porch makes a creaking sound as you set foot on it.
the only thing you hear is the clatter from inside, the light wind and the chirping of crickets.
with the ski mask over your head, you enter the house. cautiously you step through it, heading for the room from which the sounds come. hyouma, also wearing a ski mask, rummages around in the cupboards, not noticing you.
he is startled by the creaking of a floorboard, turns around appruptly, the silver revolver ready in his hand.
out of reflex you throw up your arms, start to grin when you hear him sigh in relief.
"it's just you. i told you to wait outside," he hisses softly, turning his attention back to the lockers.
"it's boring outside, besides, no one comes around anyway," you mumble, joining him. "what are you looking for?" you let your gaze wander through the devastated kitchen.
"they said the cash was in the kitchen," he clenches his hands in annoyance. "fuck, do i have to kill one first for them to give me a more accurate description?"
"them? how many are there and where did you lock them up?" you take a few steps back, looking at the shelves of the cupboards.
"a couple, about fifty i think. they are tied up and blindfolded in their bed" he tells you, watching you as you inspect the kitchen cabinets.
