SOFT BUN || markhyuck

38.

Rose. 

The colour it holds. The velvety touch underneath the finger tips, smoothness in texture. An oddly satisfying scent. Such beauty. A simple object to make ones' day. However, it brings pain. In the shape of thorns. The pointy edge; a pinch and it's on the skin. It's in forms of drops. Like the tears on the cheeks. Like the rain that falls from sky. And it doesn't stop. 

It's on the skin as the same colour as the rose. 

It's on the skin with the same texture as those delicate petals. 

It's painting the tiles of the luxurious floor of this household. 

But the paint is innocent. The crimson on the palate brings life to many things. But this, it's taking it away. It's not asking for permission to leak out the body through the bullet holes. 

The paint on the palate asks. The blood of the lifeless body doesn't. 

I sat in the chair facing the dogs kneeling down. Counting the emotions I had arisen in them; I touched my thumb with forefinger; Hatered. On my ringfinger; Anger. And on my middle finger; Fear.

To meet the king of a kingdom that was bound to fall at any minute these fools had latched themselves to a boy at the door. Such filth and disgust. These old hags could not stand up straight for more than twenty minutes, I wondered how their dicks even stood up?

I shoved the gun deeper into the mouth of a bare assed fool. He gagged. Eyes glazed and snot dripping down. Over his lips and inside the mouth. I sat here for half an hour now atleast, yet the presence I was keen to have in company was nowhere to be found. 

Katsu. 

I clenched my jaw, gritting my teeth. Shoved the baldy wrinkles back on the ground. I walked to the door to the little soul standing their with tears. The boy was shivering with fear and disgust. The bruising on his body had my blood rushing. I stood next to him, facing back to the fools once more. Getting down to his level, I encouraged him to fulfil his fantasies. To kill these things. Such a waste of flesh. Such a waste of wealth. 

'It might sound wrong to you or to anyone here but I think-' I held his hand and placed his fingers around the gun. 'If they can pretend to have authority over someone elses body then you should have the authority to do what you want with them too,' I straightened his arm. Giving him the choice. There was no right or wrong here. Anything to have a better peace of mind. I was not going to judge him. 

'You can shoot, no one can stop you. I won't either,' I walked to the window opening to the garden out back. 'At the moment, you are the strongest. Look them in the eyes.' The boy stood, shivering more and more as he faced his fear. I wanted him to see. I wanted him to be free. 'Look them in the eyes and see the fear you arose right now, just like they did to you,' 

'All those times you cried for them to stop but they laughed back. Look them in the eyes...' I told him what I felt myself. The ways I wanted to put holes in their bodies. Torture them and hang them for everyone to see. 'Take your aim. Kill them. Kill them all so they don't dare to touch you again. They don't dare to touch anyone again.' His tear rolled down his cheeks. Killing was wrong. But if you're doing everyone else a favour it did not matter in my eyes. 

The boy choked on a sob and held the gun tighter with both hands. Shaking. 'Why?' he screamed.  'I don't understand.' For a second I thought he was questioning me, but he kept his gaze fixed. On the only one who was enjoying himself an hour ago. 

'Kid, nothing that comes out of that dog is worthing lending your ears to. Just get rid of him or leave. I'll deal it myself,' no response. Taking the gun from him I shot the old geezer who was sitting with snot on his chest. I shot him on his dick. He screamed. Again on his leg, the other. Blood splatered on the ones next to him. He crawled. 

Crimson red. Such a hauntingly pretty colour. I smiled underbreath. 

The geezer laid on his stomach, dragging his lower body. The rest stayed back to the wall. As long as it was none of them it did not matter. But of course I was meant to get to them too one by one. A sinner once will stay a sinner. I shot him on the ass. The man moaned in pained. Not forming words anymore. I stepped closer with each shot. 

I ripped his arm off the one he held the kid down with. I shot and shot. Loaded the gun again. By now he was not moving at all, however, I was the last to notice. I shot him on the back. Once, twice, more and more. I shot him in the head. Blowing his brain out that was surprisingly present. The remains splatered on the fancy material of the couch in the front. Some on the walls. Some in the mouths of the ones' who were screaming. 

I was bored. I loaded my gun with bullets passed by the boy- who stood and watched his mother beaten to death in the kitchen some time ago- how he stood and watched it all happen with a smile on his face. Each person here was sick in the head by now. Forced would be the right word. 

Funny how all I needed was a gun in hand and I was the strongest. It wasn't as difficult to be in this position. No wonder every shag from the side of the road was raping kids with fancy clothes on their asses in this hell.