The boy didn’t even have the decency to look upset. Here he was, covered in blood that Sam was nearly positive didn’t belong to him, and he was smirking. That was enough fro Sam, who’d seen far too many bloodthirsty monsters laugh over their kills in his life. “If you don’t know, that’s a good sign you hurt someone. Where’s the body?” He didn’t really think he was going to get an answer.
Great, the kid was being snarky. Covered in blood and snarky. Great combo. It reminded Sam briefly of Meg, before she’d made the tentative switch to the good side. “Awesome, that’s….” Recognition dawned on Sam, though it was more akin to being smacked upside the head with a two-by-four than a sunrise. He’d met the boy before, years ago, and let him go. Damnit, how could his judgement have been so wrong yet again?
It was his duty as a hunter to prevent these kinds of things from happening, to stop monsters before they could hurt anyone, and from what Sam could see, that bridge was long-crossed. “You promised me you had this under control. That was the only reason I didn’t kill you years ago. You have to pay for the lives you’ve taken.” There was no doubt in Sam’s mind that the boy had taken many, nobody stared down the barrel of a gun the callously if they were innocent. He lifted his gun into position and aimed. “You don’t get to hurt anyone again.” Sam himself would have to live with the guilt of knowing all the blood came right back to his hands.
“When you get blackout drunk, do you remember exactly what you did or where the hell you left shit?” Maybe he shouldn’t have worded it that way, that was like admitting he had no semblance of control. But what’s the worst thing this guy could do with the information? Kill him? Akila turned his head, letting out a pitiful, huffed laugh.
This guy clearly had some hero complex, and right now, in this short one shot in his lifelong escapades of heroism, Akila was the villain. It was fitting, really. For someone else to realize he’s a monster when he finally accepted that the villain in his own story had always been himself. Akila had gone through life pretending to be the morally grey protagonist, off to settle a score, to right a wrong. Jaden had been a scapegoat for everything he couldn’t face, and now here he was, finally ready to not only accept what he was, but to atone for it.
“It’s called denial, I’m a fucking expert.” He couldn’t resist snipping, even in a situation like this. Then the hunter said exactly what Akila had been thinking - that he’d pay for his crimes. To anyone else, his crimes had probably been numerous, including whoever he hurt - or killed - just moments ago. Akila was already too disconnected to care about those people, he only cared about atoning for one life - the life that was the start to this whole journey, the one that lead him here. “Then fucking do it already. I don’t need your heroic explanation. I get it, so fucking get on with it.” He was scared. Of course he was scared. He talked a big game, but knowing everything was about to be over was still terrifying. Akila felt himself trembling, but he just closed his eyes, and waited for the inevitable blow. At least he wouldn’t have to think anymore. And hey, maybe he’d even see that son of a bitch again.
