Night of Lust and Loss

Two weeks had passed since Turai's confrontation with Otto Boomsgath, and the town had slowly begun to return to life. The streets, once cloaked in fear and dominated by the criminal underworld, were now starting to feel safe again. With many of the thug groups eradicated thanks to Turai's actions, the townspeople walked with a newfound sense of security, even at night.

The moon hung low in the sky on this particular evening, casting a pale light over the town. South of the area where Turai's new orphanage stood, the streets were quiet, disturbed only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant bark of a dog. It was the kind of night that invited trouble, though most were blissfully unaware.

In a secluded corner of the town, a man of average height with silver hair was engrossed in an intimate moment with a woman. The woman, striking with her peach-colored hair and full lips, wore a revealing outfit—a short skirt and a top that left little to the imagination. They were lost in each other, oblivious to the world around them, as the man's hands roamed freely over her body.

"Let's take this somewhere else. Where we can stay all night and do things to each other." The man suggested as he pulled back for a moment to admire the lady's beauty.

"Well, where do you suggest we go by this time?" She asked with a smirk.

With eyes focused on her chest, the man replied. "I have no idea." He pulled closer and resumed kissing her.

High above them, standing atop a nearby rooftop, a dark figure observed the scene with cold detachment. The figure was clad entirely in black—leather pants, a shirt, and a long robe that billowed slightly in the night breeze. Even his shoes were black. His presence went unnoticed by the couple below, too absorbed in their unholy affair to sense the danger lurking above.

With a quiet grunt, the figure nudged a small pebble off the edge of the roof. It tumbled down, striking a larger rock near the couple with a sharp clack.

Crack!

The noise broke their trance, and the man pulled away, looking around in annoyance. His eyes scanned the dark alley, searching for the source of the disturbance. 

"Who's out there?" he shouted, his voice laced with irritation. "Get lost before I make you regret it!"

Silence returned, the night resuming its calm demeanor. The crickets resumed their chirping but the dogs seemed to have all stopped barking. The man, dismissing the incident as nothing more than a stray animal or a trick of the wind, turned back to the woman. His anger quickly forgotten, he leaned in to kiss her again, pressing her up against a nearby wall.

But just as his lips met hers, a cold hand landed on his shoulder. The touch was firm, like iron, and the man immediately froze. He pulled back, looking into the woman's eyes, which were now wide with terror. She wasn't looking at him—she was staring over his shoulder, at whatever was behind him.

Feeling a rush of fear but unwilling to back down, the man decided to confront whoever had dared to interrupt him. He spun around, ready to lash out, but the world suddenly tilted.

The sky and ground seemed to switch places, and he couldn't understand why everything felt so strange. It wasn't until he saw his own body still standing, his headless torso dripping blood onto the cobblestones, that the truth hit him.

"Fuck!" The realization struck him as his severed head hit the ground. "I can't believe I never got laid…"

Those were his last thoughts as darkness swallowed him.

The woman, too petrified to scream, remained pinned against the wall, trembling. Liquid dripped down her quivering legs but she didn't seem to mind.

When she finally gathered the courage to cry out, the sound never came. Her throat was sliced open by an invisible blade, the cut so clean and precise that it took her a moment to realize she was dying.

Pshhh~

Blood gushed from the wound, and she clutched her neck in a futile attempt to stem the flow. Within seconds, she crumpled to the ground, her life slipping away in a silent, gurgling choke.

The figure in black watched as the woman's body stilled, the last echoes of life fading from her eyes.

"It's a sin unless you're legally married. You both weren't." He then sighed, shaking his head as if in disappointment. Without another word, he turned and walked away, his footsteps silent against the cobblestones. The back of his robe bore a distinctive mark—a horizontal line with the number 6 etched beneath it.

In a blink, the figure disappeared into the shadows, leaving no trace of his presence behind.

Morning came slowly, the town waking to the sound of birds chirping and the first rays of sunlight piercing through the night's veil. On the quiet street where the couple had met their end, the owner of a nearby house stepped outside, eager to start the day. But the sight that greeted them froze them in their tracks.

Two bodies lay in the street, the man's head resting a few feet from his body, and the woman's lifeless form sprawled out, her blood still pooled beneath her.

"Ahhhhhh! Dead! Dead bodies!!" The homeowner's scream shattered the early morning calm, a cry of pure horror that echoed through the neighborhood.

The sound drew people from their homes, and soon a crowd had gathered, their faces pale with shock and fear. Whispers spread like wildfire, each person wondering who could have committed such a brutal act—and why.

As the authorities arrived and the scene was cordoned off, one thing was clear: the sense of safety that had begun to take root in the town was now in jeopardy.

The shadow of violence had returned, and with it, a new, unknown threat.

While this was happening, Turai was nowhere close by. He wasn't even in town at the moment. He'd run off on a job.