Taesan's POV
The booming laughter grows weaker with how long it lasts.
I'm still standing under the dead body of my grandfather. My hands are still holding on to his feet.
His feet…the feet he forced me to massage during the years I lived by his side.
These feet are the same ones that kicked me after he broke my leg. These same feet walked me to the brim of hell and kicked me in.
He's dead.
He's fucking dead and it's not by my own hands.
"AH AH AH" the laughter brings me back to the present and I slowly turn around; the person I killed wasn't the real culprit.
The one I murdered was a decoy.
"Find me that speaker" I order as quietly as I can manage, I'm barely keeping the madness that's trying to break out under wraps.
I'm barely holding myself from breaking out of my own skin and tearing the whole city apart.
I want blood…I want blood everywhere…I want skin peeled back…I want dead bodies on the main roads.
