Chapter One 🍒 The Man Who Pulled the Trigger🌹
Chapter One
🍒 The Man Who Pulled the Trigger🌹
Rain had a way of making the city look innocent. A little too innocent that you even forgot how bloody a random night can be.
From the rooftop, thousands of lights stretched into the distance like stars scattered across the earth, glowing softly beneath the curtain of falling rain. Cars crawled through the streets below, their headlights cutting thin ribbons of white across the wet asphalt. Somewhere, people laughed inside warm cafés. Somewhere, children slept peacefully in their beds.
The world continued as though nothing extraordinary was about to happen.
As though one more death meant nothing.
Evan slowly raised his head.
Cold rain slid down his face, carrying away the blood that trickled from a cut near his temple. His soaked black hair clung to his forehead, and his breathing remained surprisingly steady despite the pistol pressed firmly against the center of his forehead.
The metal was freezing.
He could almost feel the heartbeat beneath his skin pushing against the barrel.
His hands hung loosely at his sides.
Not because he had surrendered.
Because there was nothing left to fight for.
The man holding the gun stood only a few steps away.
Tall.
Composed.
His silver hair shimmered beneath the city's pale lights, every strand disturbed gently by the wind. A black coat draped over broad shoulders, expensive without being flashy, perfectly tailored as though wrinkles themselves feared approaching him. Leather gloves concealed steady hands that never trembled.
Blue eyes.
The same blue eyes Evan had spent years searching for in every crowded room.
The same eyes he had fallen hopelessly in love with.
Ryan.
For several long seconds, neither of them spoke. In such a situation,are words really necessary again? Words will only lead to more unanswered questions.
Only the rain filled the silence.
Each drop striking the concrete sounded impossibly loud, as though even the storm had chosen to witness whatever came next.
Evan couldn't help smiling.
It wasn't a happy smile.
It wasn't bitter either.
It was simply... tired.
"So..." he said quietly, his voice almost lost beneath the rain. "This is how it ends."
Ryan's expression remained unreadable.
"You already knew it would."
A soft chuckle escaped Evan.
"I guess I did."
His hazel eyes never left Ryan's face.
He searched it carefully, almost greedily, as if trying to memorize every feature before darkness stole the chance forever.
How many years had it been? Can he even remember the first time? At least the last time is looking a little too memorable for his soul.
Years of chasing someone who never once promised to wait. He simply waited, giving himself false hopes.
Years of giving gifts that were politely refused before eventually being accepted.
Years of pretending friendship was enough because asking for more felt selfish.
Ryan had never lied to him.
Not once.
"I told you from the beginning," Ryan said quietly.
"I could never return your feelings."
"I know."
The answer came so naturally that Ryan paused.
"I've always known."
Another gust of wind swept across the rooftop.
Evan lowered his eyes briefly before laughing to himself.
"You know..."
"I kept telling myself that maybe one day you'd look at me differently."
"I knew it probably wouldn't happen."
"But hope is a strange thing."
"It survives even after common sense dies."
For the first time that night...
Ryan's fingers tightened around the pistol.
Almost too subtly to notice.
Almost.
"You should've stopped."
"I tried."
Evan laughed again, shaking his head.
"I really did."
"But every time I decided to give up..."
"...you'd unknowingly give me another reason not to."
His voice softened.
"I wasn't waiting for you to love me."
"I was simply happy loving you."
Silence.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
The rain continued to fall between them like an invisible wall neither could cross. No. He can't be weak,some words shouldn't shake his resolve.
Ryan slowly closed his eyes.
Only for a heartbeat.
When he opened them again, every trace of hesitation had vanished.
Duty.
Calculation.
Resolve.
Nothing more.
"I'm sorry."
The words were so quiet they almost disappeared into the storm. A loud crack of thunder follows as if laying emphasis on his words.
Evan smiled.
A genuine one this time.
"Don't be."
Lightning split the sky.
For a moment, everywhere is as clear as day.
For a single brilliant instant, the entire rooftop glowed white.
The pistol lifted.
Its barrel aligned perfectly with Evan's forehead.
He didn't move.
Didn't beg.
Didn't curse.
Didn't ask why.
Perhaps some answers no longer mattered.
Or perhaps...
deep inside...
he had already accepted this ending long before tonight.
His eyes remained fixed on Ryan.
Not with hatred.
Not even with disappointment.
Only quiet affection.
A final look at the person who had unknowingly become both the happiest and the saddest chapter of his life.
The trigger moved.
A deafening gunshot tore through the storm.
Pain arrived for only a fraction of a second.
Warm blood mixed with icy rain.
The city lights blurred into streaks of gold.
Lightning split the heavens once more, illuminating the rooftop as though the world insisted on remembering this moment.
The world tilted.
As consciousness slipped away, one final thought drifted through Evan's fading mind.
Maybe...
This is karma.
Maybe every life I took has finally come to collect its debt.
Ahh... he who kills with a gun... had finally died from one.
Darkness swallowed him whole. This really seems to be the end.
Then...
Chains scraped across stone. Angry voices crashed into the first sense that returned to him.
His hearing.
Accusations.
Footsteps.
Chains.
Someone screamed. Then silence again.
A man's furious voice echoed through the darkness.
"Wake him."
Silence again... footsteps...murmurs... and...
Cold water crashed against Evan's face.
His eyes flew open. Sharp,cold and resolve flashed in them.
The first thing he saw wasn't the city. Not the blinding light that filled the distance from the rooftop.
It wasn't the rain. His clothes are indeed wet,but no sounds of dripping or drizzling.
It wasn't Ryan. The cold object to his head is no longer there.
It was a ceiling carved from ancient black stone...
...and instead of the city skyline, the first thing that entered his blurred vision was a pair of bruised legs.
They were his.
Purple welts crossed his thighs like twisted vines, some still oozing blood through the torn fabric.
His breathing hitched.
What... happened to this body?
Before he could make a sense out of it, a sharper pain exploded through his right arm.
Not the dull ache of a fresh wound.
Not the sting of a bullet.
Something worse.
Instinctively, he curled his fingers.
...
Nothing happened.
His breathing stopped.
Slowly... almost afraid of what he might see...
he lowered his gaze.
Blood.
Dark.
Sticky.
The hand resting against the cold stone barely resembled a human hand anymore.
The fingers...
No.
What remained of them looked as though they had been crushed beneath something unimaginably heavy.
Bones.
Flesh.
Blood.
All mangled into something beyond recognition.
Evan stared.
His mind went completely blank.
"These..."
His lips parted.
"Aren't..."
He lifted the trembling hand closer.
"My hands."
End of chapter 1
Tbc....
