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A/N - you can press play on the song above and let it run throughout this chapter if you want to! :')
"What the hell are you talking about?"
When you drew back and looked at Dazai's face; you noticed that his entire aura had changed. His eyes suddenly became much darker than usual; smile twisted and distorted, like a true Machiavellian villain with a clear motive of mass destruction.
"Listen to me carefully," Dazai battled your confused gaze as you glanced around frantically as soon as you heard more gunshots heading your direction. There was a sadistic smile curving his lips, and it was a smile that scared you, more than you cared to admit. A deranged, murderous smile—a side to Dazai that you had never seen before. It was strangely exciting, despite being so damn scary. "Hand me the first thing that you see in the glove compartment. Quick."
You gulped; deathly afraid, but obliged anyway. You opened the glove compartment and took out the first thing that you could feel without looking; the shape of this peculiar object felt oh-so-familiar to you—and your eyes grew at least ten sizes as soon as you looked down and saw what was currently sitting in the palm of your hand.
It was a gun.
It was much heavier to the hand than you originally thought a gun would be—you'd never held a gun before, you'd only ever seen them being used in movies and TV shows. You didn't know why you expected it to feel as light as a feather, when in actuality, it was the exact opposite. A small handgun; the colour of a piece of charcoal. It felt cold; the coldness seeping slowly into your skin, as you handed the deadly object over to Dazai, whose smirk was rather wild and carnivorous; the kind of smile that one would only ever see in their worst nightmares—a Cheshire Cat grin of sorts.
But his smile.
It was...
It was beautiful.
So deadly.
But beautiful.
"Fuck yes." Dazai spun the deadly object around in his hand as if it were a child's toy, and not a weapon of mass destruction. You had no idea what the hell was going on—other than the fact that it seemed like the two of you were currently being hunted down. By whom? You had no idea, but Dazai seemed to already be miles ahead of you when it came to this present situation. He always was; like he had been anticipating this right from the very beginning. "I've missed this bad boy."
He kissed the tip of the gun like it were a newborn baby—and you watched him closely and attentively; your expression a perfect tableau of disorientation. Dazai pressed the button on the side of the hand grip to eject the magazine. He inserted ammunition one at a time into the top of the magazine, with the rounded side forward, until the magazine was full, like he had done this many times before. He reinstated the magazine by moving it briskly and firmly upwards into the hand grip until you heard a clicking sound which indicated that the magazine had locked perfectly in place. He disengaged the manual safety of the gun by manipulating the safety lever near the upper rear of the firearm.
