The Weight of Realization
The wind howled through the shipyard as the bodies lay still, the metallic scent of blood mixing with the salt of the sea. The three remaining figures—Darmian, Madison, and Rose—stood frozen in place, their eyes locked on the path where Alexander Bluestone had just disappeared.
Darmian was the first to break the silence. His voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of a chilling truth.
"…We have our own Grim Reaper."
Madison swallowed hard, her mind replaying the way Alexander had executed each man without hesitation. The absolute control, the cold precision, the way he had played with Langley's mind before pulling the trigger.
Rose, on the other hand, was shaking. Her fingers clutched the edge of her coat, her scarlet eyes wide with fear.
Darmian exhaled, his breath shaky. "And the worst part?" He turned to look at the other two. "He's far worse than the one we're hunting."
Madison and Rose didn't argue.
They knew he was right.
The Next Morning – A Shadow in the Police Department
The Liverpool Police Department bustled with its usual energy, officers moving about, criminals being processed, reports being filed. But as Alexander Bluestone walked through the entrance, the air shifted.
The detectives, officers, even the hardened criminals in holding cells—they all felt it.
His presence carried a weight, an unseen force that choked the air with quiet authority.
He walked to Mark Alberton's office without hesitation, his gloved fingers tapping idly against his golden pocket watch.
As he stepped inside, Mark sat behind his desk, a cup of coffee steaming beside him. His usually sharp expression seemed… uneasy.
Alexander closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall. "I assume you heard."
Mark exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temples. "Fifteen men dead. One of them the captain of a major smuggling operation." He lifted his eyes to Alexander, scanning him carefully. "And you walked away without a scratch."
Alexander smirked. "Did you expect any different?"
Mark sighed and took a sip of his coffee. "You're making too many enemies, Alex."
Alexander tilted his head slightly. "I don't make enemies, Mark. I remove them."
Mark placed his cup down. "And what happens when you go too far?"
Alexander chuckled softly. "Define 'too far.'"
Mark leaned forward, his fingers interlocked. "We're supposed to bring criminals to justice, not become something worse than them."
Alexander's smile faded slightly. His fingers flicked open his pocket watch, the rhythmic ticking filling the silence.
Then, he spoke—his voice soft, but cutting.
"Justice?" He let out a low laugh. "Justice is a game of perspective, Mark. The law is a leash for those too weak to act. And I… I do what is necessary."
Mark frowned, his fingers tightening into a fist. "And what happens when someone decides you need to be removed, Alex?"
Alexander's smirk returned. He snapped his watch shut and pushed off the wall, walking towards the door. As he reached for the handle, he turned back slightly, his sapphire-blue eyes gleaming with something unreadable.
"They're welcome to try."
Then, without another word, he left.
Mark sat in silence for a long moment, staring at the door.
For the first time since meeting Alexander Bluestone…
He felt uneasy.