Homocide Fifty || DNF

10. A Tribute

"Technoblade?" George asks curiously. "Who is Technoblade?"

Karl fiddles with his hands nervously, "well—Technoblade was a highly respected murderer." His mouth turns into a thin line, "Everyone thought he had no sympathy for anyone. That he was just a killing machine, but he wasn't as cold hearted as people thought he was."

Everyone looks invested in Karl introducing this Technoblade. They make their way over to a red couch, finally not standing up anymore.

Almost twenty seconds pass before Karl says anything. "He was a murderer, but he wasn't like any other murderers." He says.

Go on, George thinks.

"People figured he was emotionless. They always wondered how he could kill so many people with no remorse," he says sighing, "but a very talented detective figured out that he wasn't like that. He was working for someone. He didn't do it out of free will."

George's brows reach his hairline. That's tough. "Why are you telling us this?" He asks with a forlorn tone.

Wilbur traces his fingers back and forth on the couch and Bad waits patiently. George is losing his mind.

"Because he is on that list," Karl begrudgingly exclaims.

Oh. "Oh."

Suddenly the red couch gets seemingly more uncomfortable, and the temperature in the room increases. George knows deep down that it's most likely Punz. They can confirm that in only 30 minutes time.

"So it's between Punz and the other guy. I think his name was Bentley."

"Why haven't they removed Technoblade?" George asks.

"I have no clue."

Wilbur finally joins the conversation, adding a valid question, "and if it's not Bentley, then what do we do? What is our plan?"

"Then we plan how we're gonna catch him and send him to jail for good."

Jail. The word jail almost sends a shiver down George's spine. So many things could go wrong while catching Punz or Luke.

A hand through his hair doesn't calm him, not even when he intensively fiddles with his skin and pulls it just to feel the pain.

He knows this will be difficult.

Ans he also knows that this doesn't make sense.

"This doesn't make sense."

"What?"

"I said this doesn't fucking make sense," George repeats. His heartbeat hasn't slowed once in the entirety of the conversation, and it seems as if it's reaching its peak.

"Punz is not Dream. I don't believe it. They are nothing alike." He airs loudly. He fiddles even more.

But the documents prove George otherwise.
But he still doesn't believe it. He just doesn't.

He excuses himself and wipes the stress away by going outside to catch a bit of the autumn breeze. He doesn't even look back and see the confused and frightened looks on his friends faces.

So Punz is the killer? No he's not.

No he is not.

He just can't seem to figure it out. Everything points to it being Punz, but George knows Dream well enough to know that he wouldn't act like Punz. Never.

But who else would it be?

Two hours later is when he finally goes back inside. His friends have left the red couch when he enters the building again.