𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐬... ❧ ᴏᴅᴜ & ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

🌱EP. Two; Outstretched Benevolence

Song above reminds me of the song played in Benevolent's Bakery.

．．． Ｐｒｏｃｅｓｓｉｎｇ ．．．

 ．．．

 ．．．

 ．．．

 ．．．

 ．．． Ｌｏｃｋｅｄ ａｎｄ Ｌｏａｄｅｄ ．．．

𝘛𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵; 𝘽𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩_𝘿𝙖𝙮
(ᴬᵖᵖᵉᵃʳᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ ᴹᵃᵈᵉ; ᴰʳᵉᵃᵈᶠᵘˡ_ᴰᵃʸ)

⭒°☆✹°☆⭒❖°⭒°☆✹°☆⭒❖°⭒°☆✹°☆⭒❖°⭒°☆✹°☆⭒❖°⭒°☆✹°☆⭒❖°⭒°☆

First day on the job! [IDENTITY] [Name] reporting for duty!
       Here to slay the day, slay the monsters, and slay-

T r i p !

You just barely catch yourself from taking a nose-dive into the ground– turning your shocked expression to where a group of teenage boys laugh at you.
      The group's ringleader puffs out his chest as he casts you a challenging grin.
      You furrow your brows, shooting them an unamused glare. 

This group is notorious for picking on everyone around them– and you've certainly felt their "wrath" several times before.
      Usually they beat up lone civilians, before mugging them; but now that you're a rank above them, you hope this will be the last run-in with them.
      "It's almost school time, boys. Get your butts moving," you scold, hoping that maybe they'll decide to leave you alone for once.
      They throw around amused glances amongst each other, before they begin trailing out of the shadows and forming a circle around you.
      Oh, great...
      Unnerved, you raise your dominant hand to rest it atop of your gun, ready to pull it out if needed.
      "Oooh, we makin' ya nervous now?" The ringleader asks, the eagerness in his words making you anxious of what he has in store for you.
      "N-no-..." Your voice stutters a bit as you watch them close the distance on you.
      "I'm not!"
      You whip out your gun, your thumb automatically pulling the hammer down. The click of the bullet readied in the barrel makes them all stop in their tracks as you aim it at their leader.
      "Ohoho? Are you really going to shoot a fellow civilian?"
      He asks– a mocking, sad pout on his face as he opens his arms up.
      His question causes the pace of your heart-rate quicken... You've actually never shot someone before; you were so focused on the part of the job that could kill you, but not the part of having to take a life; whatever the reason.
     "Please, just get back..." You plead, the feeling of sweat dripping down your neck causing your skin to grow itchy.
     The sound of the school bell rings through the city, the echo of it seeming to bounce it your ears as you wait.
     Scenarios of the possible outcomes to this situation play on repeat in your mind; like, what will happen if you shoot him, would his friends attack you? Or, what they'll do to you if you lower your weapon.
     Holding this stance this entire time finally brings a tremble to your arms– your sweaty palms now fighting to keep the hold on the grip.
     "You're not goin' to last long on this job, we all can tell that much," he finally says, a scowl replacing that over-confident grin he wore.
      Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you try your best to stop his words from cutting into your self-esteem. Though, as the rest of the group start throwing insults, you can feel yourself lower the gun ever so slightly.
      The noises around you creates static in your ears; all the mocking, laughing, boots dragging over the street... It's making your head pound.
      Yet through the buzzing, a smooth whistle can be heard– an eerie whistle, but for being the only normal sound you hear, you instinctually focus on it to block out the mockery.