The Hunter (Male reader x R6S) (On Hold)

Prologue

3rd POV

The beginning of the sunlight starts to grow, changing those murky shadows gradually. Trees were standing rigid except that its fronds are being propelled by a gust of wind as they building that rustling noise, and each one of them is calming. Birds twittering in the distance expressing to each other in this controversy, but it was providing this positive energy of this spectacle.

Suddenly hearing an occasional indistinct people chattering on the streets mainly in the park, containing also their own physical activity like jogging. Clicking commotions clattering of cars, motorcycles, and trucks wandering on the streets. It couldn't get any less disturbing especially when bicycles generating crinkling sound from its resonant metal chain continually.

Somewhere in this scenery appears with one spot which people do either go out in the early morning. This place is well-known for anyone, for those who were coffee lovers, of course.
Inside the cafe occurred a considerable amount of people though. Minimum voices can be given attention from there friends, aside from this chilling perspective, there was this person.

A person who is alone sitting on his comfy seat and lingering on for what's about to arrive, while waiting for the barista, he decides to bring in his moleskin notebook from his black shoulder bag and including one palomino Blackwing pencil.

He flips the front cover with his right hand. and inside is all his dissertation, each sheet has been depicted either written by him. After a few flips over, there attained its unfilled sheet, then carries his equipment for the incomplete story page. But as soon as the graphite marker settles into its first phrase, he stops for one moment. Feeling unsettled as he settles down the pencil hastily, hand changing positions to his forehead.

Together with his eyes sealed shut, squeezing heavily. Every breath he exhales quickened, therefore it got further unpleasant when his sanity started to generate ear-piercing sound continuously but he tried to keep it steady not wanting to give awareness from these people
inside the cafe, the more it gets worse, the more likely everything went blank.

Suddenly, he finds out himself alone in some nothingness. All are secluded, lonely, in the abyss. He opened his eyes and clearly beholding the emptiness of this environment, and this perplexed him, assumed it would be a nightmare.

However, once he brought a single word from his mouth, it didn't happen. It looks noiseless like something must've covered it. When he recited another term, he felt it. The kid's voice is tugged with a piece of clothing on his mouth, following his pair hands latched with ropes, and can't even shift the slightest bit. Finally, his imaginations got a detailed picture along with the surroundings, but he examines himself first.

He's strapped onto a piece of inflexible furniture. It didn't take too long for him to guess that this was his past. Knees encircled with ropes, the arms were behind the posterior post of the chair. He moves from side to side collecting all the strength that will encourage him out of this situation. Unfortunately, it didn't do anything.

Shutting his eyes and yet carrying all in with the aggregate of his endurance until that capacity reaches up to that point where he experiences the tiredness rushing in, then two gunshots stopped him from pacing. He believed he was dead as the sound of bodies fell on the floor stimulating two thumping on the floor.

"Sir?" For some reason, someone's voice infiltrated from his horrendous reflection several years ago from now. This didn't concern him that much, his parents were dead until their last breath, luckily he broke out eventually and killed them in such a bloodthirsty behavior.