Killua decided long time ago that this steak was not worth digesting but for some reason, he stuck around anyway. He poked repeatedly at the piece of half-cooked (and probably mouldy too) meat and heaved a sigh. Resting a cheek on one hand, the Zoldyck child pushed the plate away with his fork still pierced in the meat, finally deciding that he should just pack up and leave. Then again, he still had a few hours to kill before meeting up with Fear; they were supposed to be exploring Seoul together today. Or more like, Fear was showing him around since this was his first time in the city, in South Korea actually—but things turned sour when his friend promptly decided to drop their early meeting and push it to the afternoon instead. It would’ve been a lot easier on his schedule if Killua actually had friends in this blasted country…

Well, technically there was Wish… but Killua couldn’t be bothered with calling the elder since they weren’t exactly on the friendliest terms at the moment. That thought alone was enough to make him shudder in annoyance. Shoving all unpleasant thoughts to the back of his head, Killua dropped a few bills, picked up his bag, and left the restaurant. He figured a cheap restaurant such as the one he visited would have cheap food but who knew they had cheap quality too? Then again… Sighing for the umpteenth time, the young man shook his head and turned the corner… but sadly colliding right into a body—again. What was with him and bumping into people these days?

At least he wasn’t grumpy this time. Needless to say, he still stumbled back a few steps, thankfully not falling flat on his butt this time or his face for that matter, and glanced up, looking like a deer caught in headlights. ❝ Jeez, I really need to get my act together... ❞ he muttered under his breath, voice barely coherent, but his eyes set fixed on the stranger before him. They sure looked familiar… Where had he seen that face before? Was this just a weird case of déjà vu or did he actually know someone with that face? Killua blinked once, then twice, then another before pointing an accused finger at the other’s face, voice suddenly finding itself back on track.

The excessive blood splatter oozed down the wall, the little that had sprayed onto the ceiling dripped little by little to the ground beside the Deathbringer. Zelo tilted his head in an odd angle, eyes wide open with one being crimson and the other a deep shade of black. It didn’t take much to kill, he could literally just whip out someone’s life in the form of a bead and crush it like glass. But he was a murderer, a reaper of life, Zelo enjoyed squeezing the life out of living things. He enjoyed crushing human skulls, ripping their limbs apart from the bodies, and most of all, squeezing the very air out of the lungs until the head popped right off and rolled to the ground like a meaningless and broken toy. The Harbinger was cruel and hated by not only mankind but the other Forces as well, but it didn’t mean his powers were used for brute strength only. He killed, yes, sometimes pointless deaths, but also to protect. Though he felt little for everything else while seeing red, Zelo’s consciousness told him to be careful – that he had someone precious to protect.

Even then, it wasn’t enough. Zelo knew, deep down, that his powers as the Harbinger of Death was eventually to lead him to his downfall. It was only a matter of time before everything fell into shambles, creating that spiral of ignorance that he failed to get rid of when he had the chance. He should’ve just died that time when Destiny offered to bestow him another chance at life. Perhaps it was his punishment for living again, to see the lives of others and to see their unfortunate ends; Zelo was cursed.

The red that was flowing from his fingertips dripped to the ground; there were marks marred over his cheeks, his dark hair a mess from the prior struggle. His victim was a little boy – he fought well for someone so small, however, he, too, met his doom shortly after Zelo had popped his head off with a snap of his fingers. A gruesome smile stretched across his lips, pearly whites glistening in the dark as his eyes turned darker and darker. He looked insane but what was insanity in the eyes of the Deathbringer?

The body of the child lay beneath his feet which he stepped over it without any care for how the frail bones were breaking with each step. A twisted and dark, eerie tune tumbled through his lips as he began to hum. Zelo’s deep voice contrasted with the contorted happiness of the song but it didn’t seem to bother him much. His fingernails scraped the wooden walls, painting it with lines of crimson until he reached the door to the outside. He emerged into the moonlight and stared as the beams bathed him in a stream of white. He’d killed an entire family. They were celebrating the boy’s seventh birthday or something like that; Zelo wasn’t really paying attention. What he really was focused on was to quench that annoying thirst he’d been experiencing for a while now. He wanted to kill. He needed to shed blood. And that was exactly what he had done. And it felt amazing.

"Gross."

"For what?"