𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

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▏PROLOGUE▕

"ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʟᴀꜱʜᴇʀ"



ℑt was the beginning of the summer season. Late May, where all the spring winds and rainy weeks are turning into bright sunny hot days. Normally, most would spend this time doing some spring cleaning, switching their spring clothes from their closets into their summer clothes, and some may spend their time to cleanse themselves for a new and better life. Most would spend whatever weekend or weekday enjoying the last bit of the spring weather, having picnics, baraques, and a lot more. However, the more unfortunate ones, the ones rotting behind bars, or sitting in poor conditions at some mental facility a little ways outside the city they grew up in, won't be spending their last bit of time in spring soaking up the sun.

"I can't fucking believe they are letting this monster out early."

There are two men walking along the dull gray-blue hallway. One is pushing a cart loaded with a basket with men's three in one, and an oversized suit that won't fit anyone. The other man is walking comfortably upright, swinging the ring loaded with keys around his index finger as he talks out loud comfortably.

"I read a few books on this case," the man pushing the cart mentions, halting the cart so the other man, the man with confidence, opens the waypoint to the next section of the facility. "This guy is fucking ruthless. Murder thirteen people, and those are the people they have on record, who knows how many people this bastard killed."

"I guess he's sort of like an anti-law right?" The man with the cart continues to speak. "All the people he killed were predators, thieves, and drug dealers."

"Allegedly." The confident man holding the keys, presses the button to open the automatic doors.

"Allegedly? The last guy he got just before he was arrested was definitely a child predator, they found a flash drive of a little girl on it. They didn't go into details but we can only assume that it was terrible shit on it." George pushes the cart through the open door. "One thing for certain, that little girl was the slasher's girlfriend."

"Right! Whatever happened to her?" the arrogantly ignorant one asks. "I remember seeing her pictures all over the news that day, she was young and pretty, damn. Why do the pretty ones always end up with the monsters."

"Are you calling yourself a monster?" George jokes making the man frown. "I mean, your wife is pretty."

"My wife didn't look like her at twenty-two either." The man complains. "Damn, just imagine how she looks now. Lucky bastard, makes me hate him even more."

The two men laugh, walking down the hallway that seems to get louder the further they go. "I also read one book about the woman who survived. She wrote an entire book about how she used to know him and how she survived him and shit."

"You read too many fucking book, George." The one with confidence and pride with each step. " Besides, who gives a shit. This guy is a monster. Bad guys or not, you go to the law with that shit, not kill people."

"Danny," George murmurs, halting the cart at the next waypoint. "That's the thing, in one of the books I read, the police were dirty cops. At least, that's what the journalist who wrote it implied."

Danny yawns and proceeds to put the key in the keyhole and push the button to open the door. "Listen, all I have to say is, a guy like the Slasher doesn't belong in a place like this. He got off easy. Ten years here and he only sever fucking five because that nut of a doctor think he's reformed? Please, this guy deserved the row! Poison in his veins for the shit he has done."

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