[PLEASE TAKE NOTE THAT THIS STORY TAKES PLACE IN MODERN DAY JAPAN]

He pulled the trigger of the heat gun, blistering hot, scorching and searing pain persisting on a tortured contrite flesh, Tomoyo screamed on the top of her lungs as if the pain would go away like she always do whenever she couldn't handle such pain. It felt as if it was the most painful thing she ever felt in her entire life, her body convulsing and suffering from the nuke of scorch. Tears rolled down her temples imitating the flow of unstoppable sweats. She cried mercy. She cried for help, but no matter how she tries, no matter how much she struggles and prays, everyone... everything seemed deafen ... or perhaps doesn't care.  The killer thing was ejected from her flesh, guiltlessly leaving a torched scary dark red circle burn on the girl’s chest and leaving an insufferable pain dessipate in her body.

"What is more deadly? A gun or a thought?" the guy said as he brushed his knife to its sharpener. He stared at it as if it was too precious; his eyes twinkled when the knife glistened. His insaned eyes were glaring, yet, enjoying. Sweats beading on his forehead and he doesn't fliched whenever his eyelashes malfunctions and let a drop of sour sweat enters his eye and prickle it. His attention was so nailed unto Tomoyo; her pitiful face that he enjoys a lot. 

Tomoyo could barely breathe; the exaggerating pain that’s scorching her chest hurts so much. While leaning at her backrest, her chin pushed upward to gain some dusty air and gripping at the edge of the flat wooden board, she endured the suffering, the literal burning on her chest and chasing for her breathe.

"Both were deadly, but do you know the difference?" He planted a playful smirk on his lips, as he stares at the newly sharpened knife; it never loses its shine and the carved words will always be there, always right there to make you remember the misery and pain.

Tomoyo glared at the psycho, she breathed heavily. The golden cup that cupped her chin makes her breathing slower and tighter. The psycho resorted on her side, grinning as if he's enjoying the torture, more as if it was more than revenge. He is smiling like he's enjoying a fleshy prey that he can only have once in a life time, once in a million times and years.

"The Gun gives you the opportunity." His grin faded into a serious look, he placed the sharp pointed knife below her wet cheekbones, pressing it leisurely, enjoying and surveying as the blood travels out from her skin. He savors the oozing of the crimson liquid from her skin, slowly crawling down to her jaw and tickled . 

"But the Thought pulls the trigger."

As the knife traveled from her cheeks down to her neck, Tomoyo gritted her teeth to avoid more shouting; the nerves beneath her neck were showing, stiffing and rigid. The knife was buried little-by-little and deeper and deeper. The wound disgorged a great deal of blood which already covered the other side of her face.  Her whole body were shaking, afraid, so afraid for much more deeper could it cost and how long would it last.

She squeezed her eyes closed, so tight, and scared at the view, at the man’s enjoying expressions while killing her slowly. She wished she was dead.

But lightning thought suddenly her head,

"Save your brother"

"Get him back."

"You screwed everything."

"No one loves you."

She fought anyway. She always will.

She sobbed uncontrollably and so suddenly, the thought of her brother being unsafe kills her more than anything and the most warring thing she could think of. She would collapse to the cold freezing ground to the thought that she is way too far from getting back his brother, way too far from being safe. Way too far from laying her wary heads to rest. And she’s near of giving up; she’s near of breaking loose of everything. She’s done, so done she wants to ing scream her bloody head out that she is ing tired and so done. But she can’t.

 As the knife carved deeper and deeper down to her flesh, she begged through the blood on her teeth and the sad tears that never stopped streaming out from her saddened tired eyes.

"Don't cry mercy, there's still so much pain to come." He said and a puckish grin drew in his lips and then the knife coated with blood.