Mafia VS Police VS Killer

BBS

Disclaimer:  These YouTubers are people, not fictional characters. I don't own them in any way, shape, or form. The only things I own are this story and some OC characters. Enjoy the epilogue~!

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Third Person PoV
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   Death row. The ultimate penalty, second only to lifetime imprisonment in solitude. This was Liam Andrews Peterson's punishment for the murder of Michael Herrera and Joshua Peterson.

  His final words were, chillingly, "I'd do it again, if given the chance."

  For the rest of their lives, Josh and Mike's friends would ask themselves the same question:  Why would he kill his own child? They just couldn't understand how someone's hate for the lifestyle of another could drive them towards murder. Why would someone willingly have innocent blood on their hands? It simply didn't make sense.

  Bryce sat silently at his kitchen table, his little kittens roaming his house. He bit his lip, chewing as he thought. Ever since the apprehension of Liam Peterson, he had been stuck in an endless loop.

  One of his kittens ran up to his leg and rubbed against him, purring slightly. Bryce smiled softly, gently petting his little kitty.

  "I don't know what to do," he admitted to his cat. The kitten just cocked its head to the side. "Five months ago I would have turned the BBS in, but now. . ." he trailed off, shaking his head. "Now I know them, kitty. They're my friends. I can't just throw them under the bus! Besides. . . Most of what they do is actually really helpful. . . It wouldn't hurt to keep thus information to myself, right?" He looked at his kitten hopefully. The cat didn't reply and simply licked its paw adorably. He sighed. "I don't have time to think about this anyway. . . I need to get to work."

  Bryce stood up, his chair screeching as it was forced backwards. He winced slightly at the sound. Adjusting his tie, Bryce stepped out the front door. Ohm wouldn't be giving him a ride today, so Bryce made sure that he had his car keys and locked his door behind him.

  His department would be getting a new head chief today, so he had better make a good impression.

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   Ohm was sitting at his desk when Bryce walked into the police department. He didn't look up when Bryce greeted him, to Bryce's confusion.

   "Is something wrong, Ohm?" His mind raced, trying to think of any reason why Ohm would be upset at him.

  Ohm finally looked up, tearing his eyes from his phone screen. "What--? Oh, no, Bryce, nothing's wrong."

  Bryce's confusion only grew. "Then why did you ignore me when I spoke to you?"

  Ohm winced. "Yeah. . . Sorry about that, I was just thinking about something and I didn't notice you were talking to me."

  "Oh, okay." The two were silent. Bryce spoke up, "What were you thinking about?"

  "It's something that's been on my mind for quite some time," Ohm said, his eyes looking at the horizon.

  "Really?"

Ohm nodded. "Yeah. I'd just gotten home from work, and I couldn't find the TV remote anywhere and I was too lazy to walk up and turn the TV on, so I decided to take Buddy out for a walk---God knows we both needed some exercise." They laughed at that. "We had a good time, had a lot of fun; when we got home it was pretty late, so we ate dinner and went to bed. And guess what?"

  "What?" Bryce could see where the story was going, but he let Ohm continue.

  "I found the TV remote under my covers! It was really uncomfortable, to be honest." He laughed softly at that; Bryce chuckled. Ohm stared at the ceiling, pensive. "But as uncomfortable as the remote was, it made me realize something: Our choices shape our future."