They say that killing is illegal.
I say sometimes it's a necessity.
I'm not a killer, I'm a judge. A judge for people, whom the law couldn't reach. I am a judge, maybe unusual but one nevertheless.
𝗜 𝗮𝗺 𝗮 𝗵𝗶𝘁𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻.
They call me a murdere...
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🔱𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐🔱
🔱𝚅𝚘𝚝𝚎&𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝🔱
🔱𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝚈🔱
🗝️ ᯽ 🗝️ ᯽ 🗝️
"People change, memories don't."
🗝️ ᯽ 🗝️ ᯽ 🗝️
[Y/N's POV]
The car comes to an abrupt halt, as my foot makes a contact with the brakes. The street is dark and empty as if life has exterminated itself from here. I and Taehyung get out of the car into the freezing air of winter. Cold seeps into my innards like a freezing fog making its way into my bones, and no matter how warm the blood in my veins is, my face gets frozen just the same.
The empty blacktop street is as soothing as the dark velvet sky. The only source of light is the yellow flickering lamp above.
"I should make a call," I whisper to Taehyung, who nods in acknowledgment, leaning on the hood of the car, his hands stuffed in his pockets.
I walk away from him pulling out the phone I purchased an hour ago, as I dial the well-memorized number pressing the phone to my ear. And again it goes to the voice mail as my grip on the phone tightens absentmindedly, but this time I decide to leave a voice message.
"Hey, it's me," I muse quietly chewing on the inside of my cheek, "it's my new number, please contact me. I don't know if you reserved the message I sent you last time, I need your help," I stare fixedly at the street ahead of me, as I collect my thoughts. "Screw help, I have to know you're alright" another pause as my brain goes blank again. I notice an old woman who is dragging garbage bags across the street in front of me as she hums a melody to herself, lost in the physical grind of her everyday work, the street is so quiet I hear her clearly it's as if she's humming her song right next to me. "Contact me, Nicole, I have to know you're not dead"
Uttering the painful words I shove the phone back into my pocket, returning to the car where Taehyung is scrolling through his phone. I gesture him to follow me as we make our way to the narrow dark alley, the scent of moss entering my nostrils.
"Why does it look like some haunted place?" Taehyung's low voice echoes in the empty space, as we halt in front of a big metallic door. The large combination lock is hanging on the side, making sure unwanted guests won't invade the territory that should stay hidden from everyone.
My hands reach for it, the metal unpleasantly cold under my fingerprints, as the combination comes to my mind.
