They say society is our worst enemy.
That must be an exaggeration because the real problem lies with humans.
Humans are, in fact, the most dangerous of all creatures; they have no concept of personal boundaries or what a person should and shouldn't do. This fact has become apparent in many places over the years, as well as in other species, evidenced by the murder rate.
They live for power and wealth, and as long as they can manipulate people to their will, they will stop at no line to achieve that satisfaction.
Although the more power one possesses, the worse their fate would be because that makes them think that person desires something in return. Humans pride themselves in being called "intelligent" yet they're blinded by the danger in front of them; unable to perceive the consequences before taking action, which ultimately leads to their demise.
So if you're going to die, you should die like a normal person.
In the very least, you might be spared with salvation.
Well, that's unfortunate for this one.
"P-Please, spare me!" The injured man pleads desperately, his face contorted in fear and eyes screwed shut as he tries to get away from the hooded figure in black. Yet in his efforts of getting away, his back bumps into a hard and rough surface.
A dead end.
The helplessness is palpable in this situation. His body aches all over with a stinging pain, blood gushing out from the wound and seeping into his white shirt. He knows there is no point in doing anything, no matter the distance he makes between him and that person, he cannot escape him.
"... Mercy? I have no compassion for people like you." He hears the cold voice say calmly in response, "It's disgusting that you act as if you're a saint."
The man has never heard such a tone in another human being. It's a chilling tone, full of hatred and rage that causes shivers down his spine. He doesn't know how to feel at the moment. All he wants right now, more than anything, is to go back to the time before he met this person, to live his usual daily life again—but now, it would be impossible to do any of those.
What he does know though is that his life is slowly, but surely, coming to an end.
"Why are you even doing this to me?! I'll give you anything! What is it that you…-" The man begs again, only to come to a halt as he feels the gaze of the stranger all over him. He couldn't explain it but the way he looked at him was as if he's staring directly into his soul.
It was purely terrifying.
The hooded figure seems to find his expression amusing, causing him to laugh cruelly and shake his head in disapproval.
"Unfortunately... you won't be giving me anything." He says darkly, "Your life is enough as a payment."
In a blink of an eye, the figure disappears. Confusion arose inside of the man, who frantically searched everywhere. It made him doubt whether the figure was just an illusion created by his fears.
The silence around him lasted for minutes. A sense of unknown fear crawled underneath his skin; there must be more to this situation and yet, that person was nowhere to be seen.
"W-Where could he have gone? Did he decide to spare me…?"
Of course he wouldn't.
But the man could care less. He used the remaining strength in his legs to get up and run as fast and as far as he could from this hell hole. It was his chance to escape.
Run.
A cold wind brushes against his skin, it was just for a moment, but he suddenly felt someone was gazing at him from afar.
Run.
It was as if he was dancing on someone's palm, watching him perform leisurely according to his plan like a marionette. It was not a good feeling. He needed to escape from this place.
Run.
His legs trembled in fatigue, his breath quickened along with every step he took, he could feel panic rising within him because who knows what would happen next?
He has to escape!
He had to escape!
The man lets out a laugh as he senses he's nearing the exit. Almost maniacally, for he had accomplished an impossible feat. There were only a handful of survivors in a life and death situation.
And now, he was one of them.
"C-Crazy bastard, wait until I…"
But then, what he witnessed next shattered his hopes into pieces.
The man almost gagged. He couldn't believe his own eyes, as he was caught up in the fear of what he had seen. "Fuck… F-Fuck!"
An eerie sensation wrapped around his feet, stopping him dead in his tracks. His breathing grew even faster when he saw how many pairs of hands were holding onto him. "N-No, no, get away!" He attempted to struggle free from their clutches, desperately trying to free himself.
He stops, then his vision darkens. The next thing he knew was that his own body tears open with ease.
The man screams, thrashing around uncontrollably until finally, his entire body goes limp against the floor. Blood spills everywhere in large amounts along with his flesh and guts.
What was once a laughter of relief turned into horrible, blood curdling screams. It wasn't too long until his cries were silenced. The remains of his body continue to bleed on the ground, painting its surroundings crimson red.
Just then, the same hooded figure reappears. He stands there quietly, watching as the victim's life fades slowly into the ground beneath him.
"How foolish."
His expression is still as stoic and emotionless as before. It was as if he was not a human being. How could someone effortlessly tear down a person? He stares down at the corpse one last time before looking up to observe his surroundings.
Several other corpses lay there scattered. Their eyes stare lifelessly in different directions; their mouths gaping wide open as blood drips from them. Their hands, fingers and toes look frozen stiff where they lie, as if they died of shock.
However, this scene doesn't affect him.
There are plenty who do not deserve any kind of pity, especially when someone kills without remorse. But then again, these people kill all the time for whatever reason, so what difference does it make on how he killed them?
In the end, he is nothing but a murderer labelled by society.
His lips curl into a small smirk, "I believe this is enough to satiate my curiosity…" He mutters softly.
The sound of raindrops comes crashing. The cloud darkens, creating an even gloomy atmosphere around him. The blood of the corpses mixed with rain water on the ground, some had flown already in the drainage. The rain pours even harder, yet the hooded figure allows himself to get soaked by it.
As he listens to the sound of his surroundings, a few distances from where he stood, voices of multiple people echo through the rain. The sound is distorted and muffled, making it difficult to pick up a few words but nevertheless, there's a slight shift in the sound of footsteps.
"I think he went this way!" A voice of a male shouts. He sounds somewhat familiar but he cannot recall who. He turns his head to get a good grasp of his face, but the rain just made it difficult.
The only thing he noticed was that he had blonde hair.
The figure steps away before he is discovered, disappearing into the darkness, unknown what routine he had taken to escape.
"What the hell... is this?"
A group of three stumble across the scattered mass of corpses. The scene was so gruesome that if it had caught anyone else's attention, they'd immediately run as far away as possible or throw up on the spot.
However, the change in their gazes was not horror but rather disappointment.
The man cladded in a dark red trenchcoat cursed out loud, "Fuck, we missed him again." The frustration in his voice was crystal clear.
"We'll find him Ares, don't worry." The elder man in a beige windbreaker said, he sounded frustrated as well despite his efforts trying to sound positive. Ares could only sigh deeply.
"Still…"
The killer was only one person and yet, they could not catch him.
Again.
The elder man's gaze lands onto one of the corpses—a middle-aged man in a simple white shirt and pants, he seemed to be a white-collar worker from one of the factories nearby.
"Look." He walks near it and bends down to touch the shredded body with his gloved hand, "The culprit must be around somewhere, he couldn't have gotten too far judging by the state of this corpse."
"Edward's right, we weren't too late." The younger man with blonde hair nodded in agreement, he was more than determined to catch the suspect this time. "I'll go ask around to see if there's any witness of a suspicious person, he might've tried to blend in with the crowd."
Ares pursed his lip tight, not entirely comforted by the assurance but accepts it regardless. "... I'll go with you then. Tracking is my forte, after all." He then glanced at Edward, who was busy wiping his blood-stained glove. "Would you be fine on your own, old man?"
"Old man." A quiet chuckle slipped from his lips. "Right, you youngsters should work together. Make sure Henderson doesn't go alone if ever you encounter something dangerous." He reminds the two, tucking in the used handkerchief inside his pocket.
Edward's gaze shifted to one of the buildings in the distance as he walked into the dark alleyway, following the faint trail the corpse left behind.
Henderson waved at him. "Be careful!" And with that, Edward's silhouette started to glitch rapidly, before he was engulfed by the shadows.
Meanwhile, Ares watched from afar as the elder man disappeared into thin air. He then let out another deep sigh while staring at the bloody corpse. "Now, we should…"
"Woah… Ares, did you see that? Mr. Icarvan never fails to amaze me when he uses his power."
Ares glances over his shoulder and at his companion, "... I have seen that a couple of times already. Although I must admit, it is an amazing ability to be able to teleport anywhere." He remarked, but wasn't paying much attention to him as he was already heading towards the open street.
Henderson follows closely behind, his face a little flustered from having to keep up. "Right? I wonder when I will be able to do that…" He murmurs, his smile dropping to a small frown.
It was because the three of them were investigators under a special department—Gützweischer District—hidden under the guise of a normal police agency, which was an organization dedicated to track down and detain 'unique' criminals.
The so-called 'uniqueness' they possessed was both a blessing and a curse, something one would only find in a character from a fiction novel.
In the mundane world that everyone existed in, hid a world of transcendental beings, who possessed a rare gift in magic such as bending the elements to their will with a mere flick of their fingers, altering the very fabric of nature itself. Some had the talent of telekinesis, effortlessly moving objects with the power of their minds alone while others wielded sheer force, manipulating their surroundings with a strength that defied any normal comprehension. These gifted individuals blended among the ordinary citizens, concealing their extraordinary abilities from the public eye.
Although not all that were gifted with such uniqueness were inherently evil, only those that abused the gift and harmed others, were the criminals needed to be detained by the Gützweischer District.
Ares' gaze lingers on him, his expression changing subtly. "... Don't think about it too much, everyone has their own pace." He spoke in a soft tone, adjusting the hem of his sleeve as the two navigated through the heavy rain. It was common for certain people to manifest their hidden ability before adulthood. Early bloomers were a step ahead in making significant progress compared to late bloomers, who tend to receive theirs in early to late adulthood.
It was the case for Henderson, who had yet to awaken his own ability despite displaying signs of transcendental capabilities such as hypersensitivity to magic power. To be able to discern someone with 'supernatural traces' was a useful trait regardless, which is how he managed to be on the same department despite being an 'unawakened' himself.
As Ares stopped by the end of the alleyway, Henderson observed him extend his arm in the open space, allowing the cold rain to seep into his skin before cutting through the air like the great sea.
The rain then ceased completely at once, with each droplet crystallizing into floating shards that cloaked them. The entire area felt lighter, almost as though the rain had never existed within the vicinity.
After standing in silence for awhile, his arm fell back down, and the rain fell again without any sign of stopping.
Henderson raised his brow, wondering if he should ask.
"... Ares?"
"Strange, the traces are everywhere." Ares' expression turned considerably grim. He fumbled into his coat pocket and took out a bloodied ring, which belonged to one of the corpses. "What a hassle."
"Ostende mihi locus."
Henderson's lips slightly parted in awe at sight as dark red blobs of light erupted from the tip of Ares' fingers; it was followed shortly after by an enormous light pillar. His eyes squinted from the blinding glow before his companion closed it with an audible snap.
"It's around Yuvith's Garden, in the west of Orpheus Square."
Henderson nodded at him as he allowed Ares to take the lead, leaving no time to waste for any doubts. They continued their way to their destination with quickened steps, as each step soaked their shoes and clothes in the rain, making their movements cumbersome and slow.
As they passed by the cafe near Orpheus Square, a strange man sat silently in a corner with his cup of coffee and newspaper, although his eyes were fixated on their movements from afar.
"Ah, really."
There's a hint of satisfaction laced within his heart. It shows how easily he had managed to sneak past that team once again, leaving various traces behind in order to create the illusion that the killer did not move anywhere in particular, which would cause suspicion to fall upon themselves.
It won't be long.
The sky enshrouded itself with thick, black clouds, and it almost looks as if a dark shadow is covering the city. People continue to walk through the empty streets, their heads bowed and shoulders slumped in sadness or fear, none really knew.
"Hardworking, aren't they." A wide, crooked grin tugged at his pale lips. "But, ah, who knows? Perhaps the hunt will be fun this time." He took a sip of his coffee and began to read the headline of today's newspaper:
"The Viper of Orpheus Square walks freely with 10 murders!" The New Times newspaper says.
And this incident would undoubtedly make it once again to the headlines, which would strike terror in the hearts of the citizens, knowing that there's still a murderer roaming free amongst them.
"What do you think?" He set the newspaper down, revealing a young man sitting opposite of him, his thoughts wandering elsewhere as he squeezed his cup. There was a blank look in those eyes, which stared at nothing in particular.
It was only when the silence teetering between them had grown unbearable did he snap back to regain a moment of semblance, a sudden chill crawling under his skin.
"... Pardon?"
The Viper's fingers rapped across the table, and he pointed at the newspaper.
Reluctantly, the young man's gaze drifted downwards, taking in the bold-lettered words engraved on paper. The hollowness in his eyes seemed to have shifted in between the words he spoke out loud. "… How terrifying, he must be the devil's incarnate."