In this eerily silent living room, a gunshot finally rang out. Now, it was just him and me left in the house.
I didn't shed as many tears as I thought, and I just felt an inexplicable discomfort.
The gunshots were deafening, and his face, as always, was expressionless.
He, whose appearance seemed completely out of place in this situation, took out a handkerchief, wiped his bloody hands dryly, and then came to me and held out his hand.
"let's go."
His hand was soaked in my father's blood, but I couldn't bring myself to turn it away. It was too sweet to refuse.
/
'That bastard's X' starts.
08.30 start.
~COMING SOON~