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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
🔗𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐🔗
🔗𝚅𝚘𝚝𝚎&𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝🔗
🔗𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝚈🔗
⚔ ∞ ⚔ ∞ ⚔
"The conversations are the best after 3 am. The heavier the eyelids the sincerer the words and the silence isn't awkward, it's shared."
⚔ ∞ ⚔ ∞ ⚔
[Y/N's POV]
I continuously toss the sheets away, turning at all possible angles, and not finding the right position.
A lingering haze of sleep sits somewhere at the back of my mind, but is too far away to reach. The world outside teases me with its silence; everyone and everything sleeps, except me. I glance at the bedside alarm.
3:02 AM.
Great.
My gaze lingers out of the window. Amid the starlights, is the ever glow of the silvery full moon, that casts her sun-bathed rays to mother Earth, enlightening the falling snowflakes.
Letting out a long, frustrated sigh, I swing my legs off the bed. I can't sleep anyway, better go grab something to eat then.
But abruptly, I freeze in place, every muscle of my body tensing up.
Was there muffled noises outside my door?
No. I laugh silently to myself, shaking my head in disbelief. I'm just being the paranoid freak I am. Already imagining things from the lack of sleep. Not good, not good at all. I stand up, my bare soles feeling the soft filaments of the carpet.
Again.
My body stiffens and my head snaps to the door so quickly, that it almost hurts.
No, I'm not imagining it. There is a noise outside my room. Instinctively my hand goes to my waist, where my gun should be, only to remember that normal people don't sleep with a gun tucked into their waistband. I'm not normal, but I don't sleep with a gun too.
I placed my gun on the bedside table before going to bed.
Without averting my gaze from the door, my hand goes to the bedside table. I try to find the gun, only to come up short. I look back. No gun.
