Kalaraja's P.O.V cont'd
Two hours later, Kalaraja sits across the street from the second suspect's house. Owen sits at a dinner table inside, he's eating a meal by himself and reading a magazine article about celebrities. Not really what Kalaraja expected his choice of literature to be, but hey, he's not here to judge him based off of that.
No, he's here to judge him for the death of his family.
Kalaraja stalks up to Owen's front door, sheathed by the darkness of midnight. He wears his black gloves and a black sweater that matches. It wasn't too hard to find Owen after he left Jack's body downtown. He had texted Jack's phone as Kalaraja was leaving, and when he heard the sound of the cellphone ding, he felt inclined to check. He placed his glove on his fingers before he grabbed the phone, careful to not leave any prints, and then found out that Jack and Owen had plans to meet at his house later on tonight. If fate existed, it was lining up for him to carry out this job.
Kalaraja searched for Owen's phone number online and found a name and address. Foolish, because a smart person of his affiliation should've used a burner phone for contacts, clients, and other members. A striving gang is one of anonymity.
Carefully, Kalaraja picks the lock to the front door and freezes, listening for movement as the door swings open slightly. Nothing stirs. Kalaraja sneaks into the house like a phantom. In his hand, he holds a cocked gun with a silencer on the end of it. He glances down at the weapon, wondering if he should have chosen something that was more... personal. He wants these men to pay in the worst way possible, but it's too late to turn back now, and he'll use the tools he has at his disposal.
As Kalaraja creeps further into the dark house, he watches Owen move from the kitchen to the living room. He turns on the TV and plops down on the couch. From the hallway where he stands, he can see the front of Owen's body, he can see that Owen is drinking a beer and is smiling at the screen on the wall.
Slowly, he raises the gun and points it at his next victim's chest. Owen won't even notice that he's been shot. He won't realize he's not alone until it's much too late. But Kalaraja isn't a coward, and he wants this man to know what he's being punished for.
He silently steps out of the darkness, gun still pointed, and spits at him, "Don't fucking move."
"Woah man," Owen raises his hands and his beer, "How the hell did you get in here?" Fear settles on his face as he stares at the gun. His eyes are wide and his hands start to shake.
"Doesn't matter. What I want is-"
"Money? Dude, I can get you money, just put the gun down. Please man, you don't have to do this. Whatever you want, I can get it for you! I know people!" Owen pleads. He glances from the gun to Kalaraja, and then back again.
Kalaraja laughs roughly and then barks, "I don't want your fucking money! I want my brothers back!" A scowl replaces his sarcastic laugh. He cocks the gun.
Confusion floods Owen's face, "Hey man, I never killed nobody-"
Kalaraja stomps forward and shouts, "No, but you fucking let it happen didn't you? You drove the murderers to safety as my brothers bled out!"
Anger pumps through his blood in vicious, powerful waves. Owen opens his mouth to speak again, but the words never exit his mouth. Instead, Kalaraja pulls the trigger. The sound of the bullet penetrating Owen's body is the only noise in the house. It echoes off of the walls and rings back in his ears.
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Enter Apathy
Mystère / ThrillerLilliana Reeves seeks revenge. One way or another, she's determined to find the killer of her aunt and uncle. Years after the trauma, she thinks she's settled and past it, but finds her thirst for vengeance rekindled, and finds herself more scarred...