˚₊‧꒰❓꒱ ‧₊˚— There's a gift to people who yearn to understand others, but in cases, it can always surface as a curse too. The desperation to know why, why, why can overwhelm, and not all questions are safe to ask. Or rather, not all people are safe to question.

"What was that for?" You asked, your question hanging heavy in the empty warehouse. There was blood up the walls and on everything, including you. The infamous crooked smile, paired with widened, satisfied eyes slowly turned to meet your gaze. He heard your question, and through his pants, he answered.

"Fun. Didn't you enjoy it as much as I did?" He laughed hoarsely, his clothes stained red. He had questioned the victims and threatened, and even when he got a truthful answer he killed them anyway. People he knew. People he claimed were his comrades at some point.