BAM!
The door didn't just swing open—it exploded off its hinges with a brutal crack.
A sigh cut through the silence, soft but laced with annoyance.
"Damn," the young man muttered, clicking his tongue. "He's early."
His eyes didn't leave the screen. Not at first.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Footsteps. Heavy. Fast. Furious.
He finally glanced over, expression unreadable.
"And I was just getting to the good part," he grumbled, shifting on the couch.
Snick!
A metallic snick echoed from behind. The unmistakable sound of a gun slide racking into place—clean, deliberate, final.
Still, he didn't turn.
He didn't have to.
A slow grin crept onto his lips. His thumbs tapped idly on the controller, as if the danger behind him was just part of the game.
"You're early, Elvis," he said calmly, almost amused. "And armed, no less."
Leaning back lazily, he stretched out like a man watching a comedy, not about to be murdered.
Behind him, the boy trembled—not from fear, but rage. Uncontrollable. Raw. Staring at the one person he once dared to call—
Friend.
But that word was something the seated young man found laughable.
The word made him sick.
Friend? What a fucking joke.
There's no such thing in this world. Only users and the used. People who get close just long enough to bleed value out of you.
He knew that all too well.
And he sure as hell wasn't about to play best friend to the main character.
That role only ever ended one way.
As a disposable lackey, tossed aside when no longer convenient.
"I trusted you, Leo… I fucking trusted you to take care of her while I was gone—AND YOU SLEPT WITH THE ONLY GIRL I EVER LOVED?!" he roared, voice cracking as the gun's slide sang again.
Leo didn't flinch.
He just kept smiling.
"Oh, that's what this is about?" he asked casually, like they were discussing the weather. "Funny… last I checked, you were the one who screwed my girlfriend behind my back."
BAM!
The shot rang out—loud, furious—but missed its mark.
The trembling boy screamed, "T-That's different! Completely different! She—she forced herself on me!"
Leo sighed. Deeply.
God, he hated protagonists.
So self-righteous.
So blind.
Pieces of shit who always saw themselves as the victim, even when their hands were drenched in blood.
The truth?
He'd never really cared about the girl in the first place. He already knew how those stories ended. So he had no real attachment from the very beginning.
"Ugh," Leo groaned, finally moving as the bullet's graze stung his shoulder. Blood seeped into his pristine white shirt, a crimson blossom blooming near the collar.
"At least aim, dumbass. I hate newbies the most—you guys try to kill someone and just end up offing yourselves."
He rolled his eyes, touching the wound with irritation.
"WHY?! TELL ME WHY!" the boy screamed, eyes wild. "WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU?! I TOOK YOU AS A FRIEND! I CALLED YOU BROTHER!"
BAM!
Another shot. This one hit.
Leo's right arm jerked unnaturally. Bone shattered. Blood exploded across the wall.
He winced. Gritted his teeth. Laughed.
"Why…?" he echoed, barely able to breathe.
Then he laughed harder.
"Fucker actually asked why."
He tilted his head back, still chuckling, even as the blood flowed freely from his arm.
"I swear to God, if you don't give me the answers I want—I'LL BLOW YOUR FUCKING BRAINS OUT!"
"You slept with her," Leo said.
"Not once. Not twice. Not even three times—how stupid do you think I am?! A brother? Are you fucking kidding me?!"
BAM!
"It was consensual," Elvis said. "She was tired of you. I didn't force myself on her."
Leo's eyes narrowed. "So when it's my turn, you just assumed it was me. That I initiated everything. Did you ever bother asking your sweet little Anna?"
A pause.
His voice dropped, cold and sharp.
"I'll be honest with you—maybe for the first time in my entire life. Your sweet little Anna? She was the one who actually drugged and fucked me all night."
Snap.
BAM!
"SHUT UP!" Elvis howled, wild with rage. "THAT'S A LIE! YOU RAPED HER! THAT'S THE ONLY EXPLANATION, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"
BAM!
More blood. More pain.
Leo laughed. Bitter. Hollow.
"I truly don't know where you get that ego from. So my Lisa cheats on me and it's fair game, but your perfect little Anna? and it's impossible?"
He coughed, spat crimson onto the floor.
"She belongs to me! She knows it! She would never cheat on me!" Elvis roared, finger shaking on the trigger. "You molested her! You drugged her, didn't you?! Answer me, you filthy son of a bitch!"
BAM!
"Ahh—fuck," Leo groaned, biting his lip as agony shot through his side. He laughed. God, it hurt, but it felt good.
Perhaps for once in all this lifetimes, things were going to go as planned.
"I didn't need to drug her, you pitiful fuck," he gasped between wheezes. "She came willingly. More than once."
"You think the world revolves around you, huh?" he chuckled through the blood in his mouth. "Well… I mean, technically, it does."
He turned his head toward the TV screen, vision blurring.
"You just can't accept that I tasted her before you did."
That line snapped something in Elvis.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
Gunshots thundered through the room like thunder splitting the sky. Leo's body jerked, blood pouring freely now, soaking into the couch, pooling at his feet.
Click.
The sound of reloading. A brief silence. Then—
Another bullet.
Still, none had hit a killing spot.
Not the heart. Not the head.
Just pain. Pain meant to make him suffer.
Strangely… he welcomed it.
Maybe, just maybe, this much would rid him a great deal of karmic debt.
"You should've died a long time ago!" Elvis screamed. "The moment Lisa told me what you really are—a snake!"
Leo chuckled weakly, blood bubbling from his lips. "Snake? Hypocrite."
"SHUT UP!"
BAM! BAM! BAM!
This time, Leo felt it.
His chest caved.
His body finally began to fail him.
He grinned anyway.
For a moment, all he wondered was what the next life might bring.
But even that thought felt tired.
He was tired.
Tired of dying.
Tired of paying karmic debts that stacked higher with every choice, every betrayal, every sin.
Tired of always being the villain in someone else's story.
At this point...
He just wanted out.
"Heh..." he coughed, blood bubbling at the corner of his lips, "well, since I'm dying anyway... might as well leave you with something."
His grin widened, savage and spiteful.
"Your girl? Sweetest, tightest thing I've had in a long while. Can't thank you enough for keeping her all pure for me. Really—really—thoughtful of you."
BAM!
BAM!
BAM!
"DIE! DIE! DIEEEE!!!" Elvis howled, unloading the clip with feral madness.
But then—
BAM!
A different sound.
Sharper. Cleaner. Smaller caliber.
Leo's grin twitched.
That... wasn't his gun.
Bloodied eyes flickered toward the noise, but all he saw was a hazy blur of shadows and light.
"What... what was that...? Elvis...?" he muttered, voice slurred.
Silence.
Then—
A broken sob.
Shaky breathing.
Hesitant footsteps on hardwood.
And suddenly—
Dread.
A terror deeper than any bullet wound.
No.
No. Please. Not this.
FUCK—NO!
His heart screamed even louder than his shattered body could.
Then he heard her.
Her voice.
The last one he ever wanted to hear right now.
"Sobs... Leo... please... you can't die..."
Lisa.
He felt it. Her trembling hands clutching his.
The warm sting of her tears falling onto his bloodied face.
He stared up at the ceiling, unblinking, the realization stabbing deeper than any wound ever could.
"…Why?" he rasped, the words slicing from his throat like broken glass. "You… you killed him… I thought you fucking loved him—you stupid bitch!"
Pain lanced through his chest—not just physical. Real pain. Soul-level shit. It burned.
"FUCKKKKKKKKKKK!" he screamed, every nerve in his body on fire.
It never ended how he planned.
Never.
Every thread unraveled.
Every plan collapsed.
Every damn time.
He couldn't even cry anymore, but tears still streamed down his face.
He was tired.
Of all of it.
He was just a slave now—
To fate.
To karma.
"I-I came to understand…" she sobbed. "I didn't love him... I was just... I don't know... angry, confused… I thought... you never showed it, Leo... you never acted like you loved me... but I—sob—I realized… it's you... it's always been you... I can't lose you... please..."
Her voice broke. Her hands shook against his.
He didn't look at her.
"You..." he whispered, voice thin as paper. "You're one... sick bitch."
And then—
darkness.
No sound.
No breath.
Only—
"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
And then.
BAM.