Warning: 🩸🔪

A young boy runs through the dark forest until he can't see the biggest light from the city shining through, then he slowed down. His long dark brown hairs hung messed up in his face. He kicks a stone out of the way and stumbles through the bushes.

The boy sits down on a bigger stone and looks at the nightsky. A small tear searches it's way down his puffy cheek.

"Good evening.", a rough voice whispers. The boy would have said it was the wind, just if it wasn't so loud. "Who are you?", he stutters, his voice high as he tries not to panic.

"I am your friend.", the rough voice answers. The boy sighs. He knows he should be scared, but he couldn't bring himself to be scared. His anxiety stopped the moment it came. He was here to never come back, so why would he care about who accompanies him and what the voice wants to do with him.

"You are sad.", the voice states.

"I am not. I am just... I don't know."

"You are sad.", the voice repeats.

"I am mad. I am mad at my parents and at myself.", the boy shouts out.

"You are sad.", the voice sounds like a broken cassette. Cold hands lay down on the young boys shoulders, but he doesn't even bother to turn around.

The stranger takes one of the boys hands and outs a small thing in it. A small thing, cold and with quiet some weight. The boy looks down, when the voice keeps his hands on the boy's shoulders again. In his small hand lays a knife. Cold, heavy, but so small, it falls perfectly in the kids grip.

"Why would I do that?"

"You are sad.", the rough voice repeats again.

"That does not explain why I would do it."

The voice keeps quiet, the grip gets tighter.

"It does not?"

The boy shakes his head.

"I think it does. Why did you came here. Here, where everyone dies, when you do not want to die?"

"I thought something could help me."

"Kid-", the voice chuckles. "All the corpses here wanted me to help them. I helped all of them. Everyone who comes here wants death. Everyone got it."

The boy looks down on his palm.

"I just want to escape this world."

The voice smiles. The boy can hear and feel it, the voice smiles.

"Is this the only way?", he asks the voice.

"If you want it forever, then yeah... it is the only way."

One of the voice's hands meets the boys hand with the knife in it.

"How do you want it?", the rough voice asks.

"Fast...", the boy stutters.

The voice's hand guides him to his neck. The cold metal meets the boy's soft skin.

'He is so young...'

The voice's hand found it's way back to the boy's shoulder. The cut was strong, fast and deep. The blood flows together to an sea. The moon seems to make the small sea light up, two red eyes look down on the young corpse.

'So young...'

...

"Officer Kim!"

I look up. My eyes meet Jeongin's ones. He smiles as he shows me the donuts in his arms. I chuckle deeply.

"Don't you have a seminar, Mr. Yang?"

"I do! In about half an hour! So I need to go right away. I'll see you in the afternoon, Officer!"

Jeongin bows and I tried my best to hold back a laugh. All my colleagues already looked at me astonished.

The reason is clear. Jeongin runs around like a model.

...

"Penguins are interesting animals! Why won't you just accept it?"

"I would accept it, Chris, if you wouldn't come at me with it, in between my inspection tour!"

Christopher runs infront of me, turns around and started walking backwards.

"You did it last night!"

"Yeah, still this was nearly ten hours ago."

"Still, it is 8 in the morning!"

"Yeah, not the right time for penguins!"

"Tsk, not the right time for blood and corps- argh!"

"Chris!"

I run up to him, ignoring the body on the floor.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah! I just stumbled. Uhm, but Bin. This wasn't there yesterday, was it?"

I look back and reacted shocked. The corpse on the floor was indeed fresh and it was a boy, not older then ten years old, even though I am bad at guessing.

My mouth falls open, as I crawl back to him. A clean cut on the neck. No weapon, no blood. The corpse is clean. It looks like he just sat there on this stone since quiet a time.

The warmth behind me, tells me, Chris is looking over my shoulder.

"He is so young..."

I tried not to cry, biting on my inner cheek. I took a few photos and notes, then I stood ip. With one last look on the boy, I turned around and go ahead. A single tear drop runned down my face.

"So young...", Chris whispers behind me roughly.

...