After completing my second round of killings on the first Halloween night, I headed to a homeless gathering place. There, I burned my Deadpool costume in a flaming barrel. A man who looked demented sang "lovely by Billie Eilish." Black smoke billowed into the sky along with the music, as if carrying my sins to the afterlife.
On my way home, I stopped mid-street. My only companions told me it wasn't safe. Instead, I headed to a nightclub. The place was packed with costumed revelers, but my eyes fell on a girl sitting alone in the corner.
"Can I see what time it is?" I asked her, even though I knew it was 2:00 AM. When she pulled out her phone, I manipulated it to show only 1:00 AM. I had to be careful with cameras, too.
We talked for a while. I discovered she was a therapist named Lily. I took her business card—maybe I needed a therapy session to learn about my human emotions. Am I still capable of emotion, or am I just a cold-blooded killing machine?
Then I was searching my pocket for some money to pay for my drink.fuck The lunatic wasn't singing; he was robbing me, or just taking money for his musical performance. The girl paid, but I promised to pay her back.
I returned home exhausted, opened my bedroom door... and there, as I expected, was Noah sitting on a chair in the dark!
"I guess you didn't understand me very well," I whispered. "Follow me."
We went out into the back street. "Have you been collecting sweets?" he asked, annoyed.
"What's your business? Are you my father?" I sneered.
The system suggested this response. Is it good?
"If I were your father, you'd be very disappointed," he replied coldly.
Rage began to boil inside me. "Go to hell," I said. "Or I'll take you there myself!"
In an instant, I kicked him in the groin... but he didn't feel any pain! Hmm, that's weird. Doesn't this guy have weaknesses?
I punched him hard, but things didn't go as planned. This bastard was fighting like John Wick! He threw me to the ground and grabbed my neck, choking me.
Suddenly, my elderly, blind neighbor came out. "Oh my God! What are you doing in there? Find a room!" I yelled and turned on the lights.
Noah was distracted for a moment, so I took advantage and hit him again. The coin flipped, but my mind was clouded. A voice in my head was telling me to kill him, but I knew it would mean the end of me.
Suddenly, he regained control and began hitting me mercilessly. I fell again and again, until the Wolverine-stained pawn fell from me.
"I surrender! I surrender!" I shouted, sitting on the floor, exhausted.
Noah stood up, breathing heavily. "You're not who you claim to be, and I'll prove that tomorrow will hold the answer!"
I went home, carrying the pawn as a memento of my second victim. I cleaned myself up and put the second memento inside my pillow. I sat on the bed thinking about the fight and what I should have done or not done. It was like analyzing a mixed martial arts fight, but I concluded that I lost by a wide margin. It seemed to me that I should learn combat sports. While I was lost, I suddenly fell asleep. I felt defeated, but this time the defeat felt better.
In the morning, I woke up before Steve and made a healthy breakfast. When he saw the bruises on my face, he asked, "What happened, Dad?"
"I fell down the stairs," I lied.
The atmosphere at breakfast was as silent as a grave. Afterward, I drove him to school and said, "Bye, son," trying to sound normal. Then, on my way to the police station, I passed by my elderly neighbor's house to correct her stare at me. I knocked on the door, but she didn't answer. I looked out the window and found her staring at me in surprise. I tried to explain what happened yesterday to her, but she said, "I don't judge, just don't go public." "Oh my God, what does this old lady think I am?"
At the police station, I met Noah in front of the elevator. We entered in dead silence. His face was swollen, but less swollen than mine. I'd lost the battle. This elevator ride felt like climbing Mount Everest, but now the heat was killing me!
When we arrived, we each went to our desks. Noah's desk was across from mine, which made work harder. His eyes said, "I'm watching you."
Then... a call came in about another murder. The bastard looked at me and gave me a sly smile, as if to say, "Get ready, Bob."
You're the one who should get ready, you fucking Nazi.