Warning:slight!gore ahead

I quickly gouge out his eyes and watch as the knife I stuck in his back sputtered with blood. Finally, the ground is filled with dead bodies. My job is simple, I'm a vigilante who kills rich s who can't seem to be a decent human being at least once in their life. It's not pretty, but it pays my bills. Or should I say, half the neighborhood's bills. The other half are either too proud to accept the money or just don't like me.

Walking through the bad side of town, past drug addicts, homeless people, and sketchy street sellers, I climb up the stairs to my apartment. Sure, it's small, but it's home. Two kids who saw me a while ago follow me, both wearing clothes that were obviously too big for them.

"Kihyun hyung, did you get the money yet?" Moonbin asked. He's always been my little trooper. Rocky elbows him in the gut, like I've taught him.

"Don't mind him big bro, get the money anytime you want. Here, Eomma brought you lunch." He holds up a BLT wrapped in paper towel, which I quickly gulp down before reaching into my bag. I pull out a couple bills and hand it to them.

"Bring this to your mother. I put in extra so maybe you could treat yourself." I grunt. The kids brighten up, Moonbin leaving me a grilled cheese for dinner before they scurried off. I've been supporting their family since I got this job. I don't think any of them are actually blood-related, but I don't really think about it often.

I place the grilled cheese into my fridge and decide to stare at the wall for a while. My eyes catch a little picture in a photo frame, and I grab it. It holds a boy with doe eyes and puffy lips, his arm wrapped around Wonho's shoulder. Behind them is a guy with red hair sticking his tongue out with a guy with brown hair. In the middle is a smiling boy with white hair holding up a blue flower. Next to Wonho is me, with a tan boy I dare not name. He was a ing pain in the , but I tolerate him. In the photo we're smiling, but you can see me pinching his arm. After the incident, we've all disappeared. Except for Wonho, I don't know anyone else's whereabouts. Sometimes I wonder if they're even still alive, or in a prison somewhere.

I hear a siren, breaking me out of my thoughts. Closing the window, I wait until they find what they're looking for. I peak through the curtain, one of the street sellers I saw a while ago is being dragged away in cuffs. I sigh, relieved that that's not me. How good will I be when dead, anyways?