Chapter Text
Tord shoved the body inside of a garbage bag. *Fucking–* Tord looked over at the entrance of the alleyway, dropping the bodybag and raised his hands up, having a nervous smile. “You have the right to remain silent.” The man in the blue suit spoke.
Tord blinked, reaching down to his calf. The officer raised his gun. Tord pulled his own gun out, pulling the trigger, the cop falling right to the ground. Tord huffed, taking whatever the cop had in his pockets. Tord smirked, finding a wallet.
Tord put the wallet in his back pocket, taking in any signs of more cops nearby. He grabbed the bodybag, and swung it over his shoulder. Sure, Tord was a scrawny guy, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t strong.
Tord walked casually down the dark street, carrying the bodybag. He had mapped out his routes in his head, remembering exactly what to do in any situation he came up with. It only took him about twenty minutes to come up with a full on plan.
Tord walked down a seemingly unfamiliar street, and went into a building. He tossed the bodybag in a corner, and took out a lighter. Good thing he had already coated the bodybag with gas before he even started. He put a single spark on the bag, and ran out of the building, fire spreading quickly.
Tord ran down the street, laughing. He ran right into the park, remembering his lay-low place. He panted, approaching a wide-trunk tree, and pulled a dagger out. He jumped up, stabbing the wood, and climbed the tree.
He swung himself onto one of the main branches that were high up. He got his dagger out of the tree bark, and tore off a branch. He leaned against one of the limbs, carving some designs in the branch. He made the branch sharp at one end.
He heard a twig snap below. He glanced down, making sure to keep hidden. It looked like a kid, but.. They were tall. They had a full-black outfit, and long brown hair. *Huh.* Tord thought, scaling down the tree, landing behind the kid.
The kid was just observing the tree bark. Tord pulled his gun to the back of the kids’ head. “State your name, and what you’re doing here.” Tord barked. The kid froze, thinking. “Evan. I kinda wanna be a botanist when I’m older, so I came here to obse-” Tord interrupted the kid.
“Alright, alright. I’ve heard enough.” Tord reloaded the gun. The kid turned their head. “What type of gun is that?” Evan asked. Tord blinked, lowering the gun. “Ehm. Hva i helvete det feiler det denne gutten..?” Tord spoke in Norwegian.
“Jeg vet ikke hva som feiler meg.” Evan spoke Norwegian back. Tord stared at the kid, absolutely befuddled. “Are you some type of spy or something, kid?” Tord pushed the gun to Evan’s head again. “No? I mean, I’d know if I *was* one, but I don’t, so I guess I’m not.” Evan shrugged.
Tord blinked. This kid was definitely weird. “Anyway, you didn’t answer my question. What type of gun is that?” Evan touched Tord’s gun, Tord pulling away. “Jeg tror ikke denne gutten vet /hva/ han gjør..” Tord muttered.
“You already said that.” Evan fixed his hair. Tord backed away. “Do you even know what a gun can do, kid?” Tord barked. Evan nodded. “Guns are loaded with bullets, and the bullets are shot into a sort of target, and in some cases, people. Guns are classified as weapons, but sometimes not very effective ones.”
Evan touched the gun again. “I’ve never held one before. Can I?” Tord responded with a huff. “Fine, but if you die, I’m not responsible for you.” Tord let Evan hold the gun. “Wow. Guns are heavy. Are bullets made of metal? That’d explain why the gun is so heavy. Are bullets themselves heavy?”
Evan kept asking questions. Tord thought. *This kid reminds me of a younger me. Hah. Hope he doesn’t end up the same as me.* Tord blinked, getting back to reality. “So, *are* bullets made of metal? I think they’re made of some type of brittle one, they don’t seem very strong. Strong enough to pierce skin, yeah, but maybe not a rock.”
Evan kept talking. “Well, it could shoot through wood if the gun was powerful enough, speaking of gun power, how powerful *is* this gun? Is it good for far range or short? Short range is great for when cops are behind you, but long range is best for killing.” Evan smiled.
Tord blinked. He didn’t know a single kid who was interested in guns. Nor death. “So, you can speak Norwegian?” Tord asked. “Only a little. I’m still memorizing some words, like… Ikke, hvor, hva, and I haven’t really used it when talking. Only online.” Evan shrugged.