After a few days the man
He was able to forcibly forgive his wife after much effort.
After a while, the living room was quite lively. The girl looked at the person following her father. "Uncle Haran? Welcome!"
"We're welcome," the man replied candidly and handed her two bottles of Coke.
Uncle Harran was a friend of his father. They both worked in the same office.
They had known for a long time. He even met when he was little.
After a while, the atmosphere of the house became more cheerful.
"Your relationship is truly outstanding." Uncle Harran laughed at his father, with obvious sarcasm in his voice.
"If it goes on like this, you may have to sleep at the police station"
"You can come if you get kicked out by your wife. The gate of the police station is always open for you," he chuckled slyly. Her father grunted, wanted to answer, but remained silent.
His mother was just laughing in a corner.
At that time, when she received help-seeking glances from her father, she was rubbing her fingers together and asking about something obvious in her body language. What about the money?
The man lifted two fingers silently as he sighed at his daughter's personality.
The girl raised 4 fingers.
40 lira.
His father did not agree.
After some thought, he raised 3 fingers.
The girl nodded and opened her mouth.
When asked, "Uncle Harran, what about your aunt?" Harran stood stiffly and his voice suddenly stopped. "Haha what are you talking about?"
Even her mother paused and looked at Harran curiously.
The girl slyly grinned and said, "I heard…" Harran interrupted her with a nasty feeling, not waiting for her reaction. "I had an urgent job, now it's on my mind!" His instincts would never mislead him, so he quickly fled from there.
"Hahaha!" Her father then smiled triumphantly.
The merrier the dinner table was, the harder the night was.
A few hours later, the bad news came.
Uncle Harran was murdered.
***
The killer, as if provoking them. He cut the corpse into pieces, made a heart shape out of them, and placed a bouquet of red roses in the middle.
The environment was heavy and depressing. The man rushed forward and his eyesight darkened when he saw the crime scene. His balance was shaken. His chest shuddered.
A small one was placed in a bouquet of roses.
To my executioner who brings justice...
His expression grew heavy. A few days ago, Harran arrested a serial killer. This man with anti-social personality disorder was quite irritable, impatient, and lacking in common sense. It was ruthless.
And he had vaguely heard the news that he had escaped from prison this morning.
Now...
He clenched his fists and advanced slowly on his weak legs. His eyes were red.
He knew that this road had its dangers. He could be injured, crippled, or even dead. Even his family could see danger. Therefore, he never took business matters home.
Earlier, he handled murder cases of people he didn't know. He was sad, he felt helpless in his heart. But none of them were as intense as the present. He had lost a few kilos in just a few nights.
The forensic doctor came and examined the scene. He began to collect and put together the pieces of hands and flesh that had been torn from his wrists, the indefinable body parts other than his face.
The man, on the other hand, could not bear to watch this process silently and closed his eyes. It's like he has a rock in his chest.
His shoulders slumped.
While he was running this case for a while, he couldn't find the opportunity to go home. It was early noon the next day when he returned.
As she opened the door, she was startled by a big girl's scream. Daughter?!
He slammed the door and rushed in. He froze as if boiling water had been poured over his head with the woman's corpse on the ground, as if his feet were fixed there with nails.
She fainted as her daughter collapsed beside her, crying hysterically.
The atmosphere was chaotic and infernal.
-To be continued-