Mr. Mercenary (2)

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DISCLAIMER: please do not use this chapter to diagnose yourself. information i have gathered could be false or only half-true.

possible(?) triggers: DID
<dissociative identity disorder>

The crack of someone's neck filled the eery silence of the abandoned alleyway, followed by manic giggles. A body dropped dead to the ground, eyes open and glazing over as blood trickled from their mouth, pooling on the cracked concrete.

"See, I told you we were gonna have fun!"

Peter crouched down next to the body, slipping a pocket knife from his utility belt. He slowly traced words onto the skin of their forehead before plunging the sharp metal blade below the layers of flesh, blood bubbling to the surface of the wound.

rapist

"Maybe next time don't rape your boss' daughter, hm? This wouldn't of had to happen if you could just keep it tucked in your pants, right?" Peter asked the dead body, tucking their blonde hair behind their ears. "When the cops get here, they'll be delighted to see you."

Peter stood up from his crouched position, putting his now-bloody-knife back onto his belt before fishing his burner phone out. He dialed the cops, humming a Christmas tune as he waited for them to pick up.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

"There's a dead body in the alleyway!"

"Excuse me Sir?"

"There's a dead body in the alleyway, what do you not understand about that?"

"My apologizes Sir. Can you identify the body?"

"His name tag says Skip Wescott."

"Okay, is there anything unusual we should know about?"

"Um, there's a bloodied word on his forehead. I think it says rapist."

"Thank you Sir. Police are on their way."

>><<

Peter hid in the shadows as policemen surrounded the body, trying his best to keep his mouth shut. He bit down on the side of his finger to keep himself from laughing as they examined the bloody number on his victim's forehead.

"Christ. He's the third one this week, and it's only Tuesday," Jerry, the deputy, sighed, snapping his gloves onto his wrists.

"This person must really hate criminals," Matt, deputy in training, added, shaking his head. "Not to be absurd, but I kinda think this one deserved it."

"What makes you think that?" Jerry asked, looking up at his trainee.

"This guy was in jail on three separate accounts of rape, and he escaped his second visit to the pound."

"Don't tell the boss, but I agree with you."

>><<

"Why did we let him go?" Steve sighed as he
looked at recent death statistics. "His name is written all over these murders."

"He helped us out," Natasha replied easily, peering over the captain. "I don't break promises."

"This is absurd, Natasha," Steve argued. "These people need to be brought to justice, not killed off."

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