"Don't go there! It's not safe."
Emotional Starters: Fear.– – no longer accepting. (x)
Sharing the deepest of the secrets kept withing one’s self with another being requires trust, a trust strong enough to resit the slashing of a blade and not even suffering a scratch–perhaps that was true, but being caught also included having to unleash the truth instead of building a castle of new lies on top of the old ones. It was through the pestering of Holden and the nervous hands of the latter scanning around that his secret came to the light, the truth about who he is, what he does and the way the drill goes. Much to his surprise, the latter revealed the tricks dragged under his sleeve regarding the close relationship with darkness in its every form, the manipulation of it under his own wishes–a secret for a secret, it happened to be very much fair. The supernatural was no strangers to the hair standing by the end of his nape, yet Thomas has ignored the unknown senses in order to follow the path of a normal life, the fantasy that perhaps one day, a normal human life would present itself.
It was a stupid idea, really, when Holden suggested to follow the young male out through the depths of dawn into the haunt of yet another target, perhaps in hopes that a friendly voice would snap out the killing machine to its original mindset–it was useless, that much the photographer could tell from the countless trials before, resulting on the already expected failure, but the latter was stubborn and nothing could be done as he simply gave in on trying to stand tall for his point. The chilly night soon fell upon Seoul, bringing up the countless lights painting the city into a beautiful piece of art, yet found skulking through the dark alleys was Thomas … the body, at least, with movements stripped of his bare hands, the senses and order sent to the sensorial parts of his brain blocked and taken over by the entities rushing through his veins. From the moment that little switch was turned on, the young male would be turned into a puppet, a perfect killing machine equipped with the several weapons chosen specifically for the perfect strings of kills.
The step that was to follow halted by the moment slender fingers curled around his wrist, snapping piercing orbs to burn holes through the latter’s skull, even though pure desperation could be found in the depths of his pupils, a cry of help that was kept unheard for as long as he could recall. “Don’t go there! It’s not safe.” Holden’s voice slipped into his eardrums, but it happened to be reflected with the same intensity, almost as if there was absolutely no one standing before his tall structure, a single snap of his wrist being enough for the grip to be broken and a click of a sharp tongue to fly past rosy lips. Yes, it was absolutely dangerous and a suicidal missing to barge into a building full of armed man that could shoot at him, however, the male had already faced similar situations in the past, ones that earned bullet holes through the thin layer of flesh, yet not a reason to stop what simply couldn’t be stopped. “Stay the fuck out of my way.” His voice was dry, cold, something able to pierce through one’s soul, almost as if the shorter male was absolutely nothing before his eyes–that was the effect of those behind his acts, the complete opposite of Thomas Oh.
