after dark willingly. If gunshots or screams are heard coming from this area, people just ignore it and scurry on their way pretending otherwise. I move silently toward the alley, finding it littered with trash, the dumpsters at its entrance completely overflowing with discarded food and waste, the rancid smell making me grimace.
I pull out my gun from the back of my jeans and grip it tightly as I make my way toward a shuffling noise. A sense of foreboding washes over me like a sixth sense, taking me back to another time and another alleyway. As I come closer to the end, flickering light from one of the streetlamps above illuminates a scene that turns my stomach.
The cop is there, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. Whether that’s from the running or the actions of the boy knelt in front of him with the cop’s tiny dick in his mouth and tears running down his face, remains to be seen.
Evil doesn’t surprise me. It’s what I know, what I see every day, but for me, the people who take a position of trust and use it as a power play to manipulate those weaker than them are the worst of the worst.
I don’t bother asking questions. I don’t even stop to think about how this poor kid might react to what I’m about to do. All I see is red. It colors everything as I walk up silently to the cop who has his head thrown back and his eyes closed in ecstasy. He doesn’t hear me, doesn’t see me, too caught up in his moment of debauchery. The boy sees me though and that damn haunted look in his eyes is one I’m all too familiar with. I keep my eyes on him and lift my gun. He doesn’t flinch, fuck he doesn’t even stop sucking the acrid little dick until I place my gun against the cop’s head and pull the trigger.
The cop’s body falls back into a crate behind him, making a loud clattering sound, but neither I nor the boy stops looking at each other. He remains on his knees as I shove my gun in my bag.
“I’m Viddy.” Even after the loud bang of the gun firing, my voice still seems deafeningly loud, breaking the strange moment between us.
He stands and moves back away from me, his hands out in front of him as if to warn me away.
“Wait.”
He freezes at my words, the terror on his pale face making me soften my voice further.
“I’m not gonna hurt you. I know you have no reason to trust me, and that’s okay, I’m not expecting you to. Do you know who Gemini is?” I ask him softly.
He stares at me before his eyes dart around the alley as if waiting for someone else to jump out of the shadows. Eventually, he nods, so I continue, taking one step closer to him. He backs up until he is pressed against the wall with nowhere to go.
“You know the old Gemini is dead?”
Again a nod, this one fast as if answering me quickly will mean he can leave faster.
“I’m the new Gemini,” I admit, making his eyes widen before his shoulders fall in defeat.
“I live in a fancy penthouse in the heart of the city, but before that, I lived on the streets and had done so since I was fifteen years old.”
He looks up at me sharply, his head tilting to the side as if in question.
“Someone hurt me. The streets were a better option than the house that was supposed to be my home,” I divulge, stepping closer once more. “Do you have a home you want to go back to?” I ask quietly.
He violently shakes his head no.
“The person that hurt you,” he whispers, surprising me, “what happened to them? Are they still looking for you?”
“I shot and killed him. He was going to sell me and get a new girl, a younger one. I couldn’t let that happen.” I answer him truthfully, reaching out a hand slowly as if approaching a rabid dog ready to chew my arm off at any second
“You shot him?” he asks reverently as my hand slides over his hair.
I tug him toward me and he puts up zero resistance when I pull him to my chest. He doesn’t hug me, and I don’t expect him to. We stand there in silence, him with his head against my shoulder and me stroking