Chapter 4 - I've Snapped a Neck!
Thanks to the incident with Jack, Petra allowed Carn to skip his afternoon classes. He spent the rest of the day in the infirmary, taking a long rest to recover his stamina. Meanwhile, Malinda was reluctantly sent back to her classes by Petra, much to her frustration.
By the time school was over, Carn felt well enough to board the bus home, though his body still ached from the lingering headache.
When he arrived home, the house was quiet, just as he preferred. His parents had left a note and a ten-dollar bill on the dining table, which he found while heading to his room.
[We'll be home late. Grab your own dinner.]
Carn smirked at the note, feeling a sense of freedom. He pocketed the bill, tossed his schoolbag into his room, and changed out of his clothes. Dressed in a black hoodie jacket, matching black jeans, a face mask, and dark sunglasses, he slipped into a pair of sneakers. His attire gave him the appearance of someone with intentions hidden behind the dark, blending into the night with purpose.
But it was only 5 PM. The sky was still bright, and Carn's current outfit made him stand out too much. He lowered the hood and tucked the sunglasses into his pocket, avoiding drawing unnecessary attention.
As he locked the door behind him, Carn stepped out into the crisp evening air and wandered aimlessly through the suburban streets.
On the surface, it was a peaceful walk through a quiet neighborhood. But in his mind, he was on the hunt. He scanned the area, searching for any trace of humans with the distinctive "brands" he sought.
This wasn't just a casual stroll to clear his head; he was looking for a source of Aether, and he knew exactly where to find it.
After walking for some time, Carn reached the commercial zone. The street was lined with a few struggling liquor stores, survivors in an area plagued by high rents and low population density. Thanks to the strict zoning policies in this part of town, no convenience stores could be found here.
Still, Carn pressed on, walking for nearly two miles before he finally spotted a gas station up ahead. A convenience store was also there. The moment he got close, his eyes locked onto something far more interesting.
There was a crimson haze rising from inside the store.
He had found it — a source of Aether.
Carn smirked, knowing what it meant. He walked casually toward the convenience store, stepping through the glass doors as the automatic chime rang out.
Inside, the storekeeper, a plus-sized, middle-aged man named Carlos, glanced up from his phone and raised an eyebrow at Carn. His gaze shifted outside, searching for the vehicle Carn might have driven, but finding none. Carlos sighed and shrugged, returning his focus to the smartphone in his hand and occasionally glancing at the CCTV monitors beside the counter.
Carn glanced at Carlos, but the haze didn't come from him. His eyes followed the red smoke, which was invisible to human's naked eyes.
The crimson haze was the telltale mark of someone who had killed before. The deeper and thicker the red, the more heinous the crime.
The haze led Carn toward the back of the store, where three young men gathered. Each of them stuffed shopping baskets with expensive beer and liquor. As soon as they finished emptying the shelves, they exchanged glances and hastily pulled wool masks over their faces.
Without hesitation, they marched toward the counter. One of them pulled out a pistol and aimed it at Carlos. Another thug stepped up to Carn, pointing his gun directly at his face, his expression one of smug arrogance. As for the last robber, he brought out a backpack, ready to collect valuables.
"Hands on yo' head and get down, mothaf-cker!" the thug barked, tilting the gun sideways.
The third guy with the backpack, clearly the leader, shoved his pistol in Carlos' face. "Aye, run that cash, old man! Open the damn register!"
Carlos sighed deeply as he was tired of this routine. It wasn't the first time someone had tried to rob his gas station. But this time, he was worried about Carn, who, to his eyes, looked like just another kid.
"Leave the kid alone," Carlos muttered, his voice weary as he tried to negotiate.
Meanwhile, his hand crept toward the emergency button hidden beneath the counter. With a swift press, the silent alarm would alert the nearest police station. His fingers hovered just above the button, and beside it, within easy reach, was a shotgun.
Carlos kept his eyes fixed on the robbers, calculating his next moves. He was waiting for his chance to end this farce himself.
Meanwhile, Carn scanned the three thugs, assessing them in seconds. Two of them were clean—no stains, no marks.
But their leader, with his open backpack hanging under his arms, was the source of the crimson haze. Carn's gaze shifted to the man's face, where he noticed a three-inch claw mark on his right cheek.
That was an indicator. One claw mark meant one curse. Therefore, that man only murdered one person, and he had not been punished for his crime yet.
Disappointment washed over Carn as he realized how weak this man truly was. He shook his head slightly and sighed, the light in his eyes dulling with boredom.
'Just a small fry. What a waste of time. Well, a beggar can't choose. One mark of Aether is better than nothing.'
Ignoring the gun in front of his face, Carn took a step forward, closing the distance between himself and the leader. He stared directly into the thug's eyes while maintaining his expressionless face.
The thug flinched and pressed the gun muzzle harder against Carn's forehead.
"You want me to blast your head off? GET DOWN, MOTHERF—"
*CRACK*
With lightning speed, Carn's left hand shot out and gripped the thug's right forearm. The thug barely had time to react before a sickening crack filled the air. Carn had applied just enough pressure to snap the radius bone in the man's forearm clean in half.
The crisp, familiar sound sent a thrill through Carn's body. The sensation of bone giving way under his strength was... satisfying. He exhaled lightly through his mouth, almost savoring the moment. He closed his eyes for a split second as he relished the feeling.
"FUUUUCK!!" The thug screamed in agony, cradling his broken wrist and dropping his gun. His two friends spun around at the noise.
At that moment, Carlos didn't waste any time. The storekeeper had been waiting for his chance. He grabbed the double-barreled shotgun from under the counter and leveled it at the ringleader's chest.
"Welcome to Florida!"
*BOOM.*
The deafening blast of buckshot ripped through the air, hitting the thug square in the chest. He buckled and collapsed onto the floor, blood pooling beneath him.
Carlos quickly aimed the shotgun at the second thug but hesitated. Carn was standing too close behind the robber. The scatter of the buckshot would hit them both.
The hesitation cost him.
The last thug, realizing the shift in power, swung his pistol toward Carlos and squeezed the trigger.
Before the thug could pull the trigger, Carn moved in a blur. His hand clamped down on the man's throat, squeezing like a vice, cutting off any chance of a scream. With a flick of his wrist, Carn twisted the thug's neck 180 degrees.
*CRACK.*
*BANG.*
The gun went off, firing wildly as the thug's lifeless body hung in Carn's grip. The bullet struck a cigarette shelf behind Carlos, sending boxes tumbling to the ground. But Carn was unfazed. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and exhaled deeply through his mouth.
That was the feeling.
The sweet, sweet sound of neck-snapping—so satisfying.
The sensation of the bones giving way, the subtle rotation as the body twisted unnaturally, and the life fading from the thug's eyes, all of it was exhilarating.
This was more pleasurable than sex!
Carn reveled in the moment, savoring it.
He let go, and the thug's body crumpled to the floor with a dull thud. Silence filled the store.
"…"
"…"
Carn and Carlos exchanged a glance. The storekeeper, still holding the shotgun, lowered it slowly. His lips curled into a wry smirk.
"Kid, where'd you learn moves like that?"
Carn's serious demeanor melted away, replaced by a bright carefree smile. All the tension, the headache, and his earlier frustrations vanished from his eyes.
"A church."