[M] Prologue (1/1)

PROLOGUE     The last, silent hitches of breath and the raindrops against a partly broken windshield. There was a nasty hole caused by a bullet and Hyukjae's empty gaze stayed locked on it, yet not concentrating fully on what was in front. The red blood of a previously living human was making its way through the microscopic cracks of the glass, so deep that the rain would never wash it away. The colour vas vivid and strong compared to the grayness of this rainy day. Some of it had managed to drip inside, straight onto the dashboard. Hyukjae's ears were still ringing and repeating the loud bang from earlier.    The windscreen wipers were moving sideways with a regular rhythm. Raindrops were pushed away just before new ones fell. Most of the blood had been washed away already, but the redness in the cracks stayed. Hyukjae wondered, how many seconds were between the wipes? Four? Or perhaps even five?     He put the cigarette between his lips and inhaled. Smoke lingered in his mouth for a while, then gradually coming out like a reverse waterfall and hitting the ceiling of the black car. It wasn't his, but it was a car he had spent lots of hours in, and he had already grown a slight liking to the vehicle. Too bad the windshield was thoroughly shattered, only staying upright because of the sticker-like coating of the glass. It was a bit bent too.    "Impressive", said a low voice of a person next to him.   That brought Hyukjae back to reality. This was not a hallucination. The nauseous feeling was not a product of imagination, and the pistol in his hands that had warmed up was not a lie. Outside, the black haired youngster was calm, but inside he was shaking so much that he knew his voice would break if he opened his mouth to speak. His own stomach had already been emptied on the parking lot, so there was no stuff left to vomit. Nothing would ease his mind anymore, not after this. Only words and cries of the unknown feeling. His head was aching, his breath was trembling slightly and his mouth tasted terrible. He couldn't pinpoint if it was the cigarette or the vomiting. He figured it was both of those two together, or then he thought it was just the basic taste of the aftermath of a kill.    Hyukjae rested his foot on the dashboard and leaned a head on his hand which was supported by his knee. His gaze was still on the windscreen and his outer self appeared silent, almost too eerie for his own liking.    "I see a lot of potential in you", the man who was with him mumbled with a grin, also turning his gaze at the destroyed windshield. It was h