"Are we going to help Sheriff Hooper?" Wednesday asked as she saw the officer lying in a pool of blood.
Jonathan didn't rush to answer. He walked straight to where Leatherface was, and seeing him breathing heavily, he asked, "Do you want to confess your sins?"
"Hu…" Leatherface's breathing was too labored.
He looked like he could die at any moment.
Jonathan pulled a silver rosary without a symbol from his bag, placed it on the chest of the serial killer, and said, "You don't need to speak—your eyes will say more than a thousand words."
"Righteous and merciful Lord, You who know the shadows of the human heart and also the light that never fades, receive in Your presence this man marked by evil."
"May his death mark the end of his violence and the beginning of the truth he must face: let him pay for his sins with the honesty of his repentance and the consequences that rightful justice imposes."
"Do not allow, Father, that his end be meaningless: let his memory serve as a warning, let the wounds he caused find comfort and healing in those who suffered, and let his soul, even in its guilt, not be excluded from Your love."
"Show him the clarity of his guilt so that true repentance may be born within him; and if his heart were to turn to You, do not reject him, for Your mercy triumphs over judgment when repentance is sincere."
"Grant peace to those who have lost, strength to those who seek justice, and let Your will be done with justice and love."
"By Your grace and in Your name."
"Amen…"
After finishing his prayer, Jonathan used his telekinesis to crush Leatherface's heart, who stopped breathing right after.
His mission was to eradicate evil, regardless of whether it was living or not. That's why he decided to intervene—and only after giving everyone equal judgment would his work here be done.
"I'll make a few calls. Gather the survivors and wait." Jonathan's attitude changed the moment he stepped out of the mansion.
Within a short time, he made a few calls, and the local police began to take over.
That night, things ended quickly for Jonathan and Wednesday. The police took charge, and Heather, along with her friend, were the only ones who survived.
The positive side of all this was that Leatherface had been killed and would never return to wreak havoc again.
…
Early in the morning, Jonathan parked in front of a café. His vehicle and attire always drew attention in this town. It wasn't common for people to wear high-end black suits and drive such expensive cars.
But none of that mattered to Jonathan. When you've been through so many missions where your life is constantly at stake, you lose a certain sense of reality that affects everything else.
"Good morning…" Jonathan opened the door of a small café and decided to sit near the television to watch something entertaining while having breakfast.
Wednesday, who followed him silently, sat by his side.
These last few days, Jonathan had been feeling somewhat distracted, and the things he'd been doing felt too routine.
"Welcome! Here's the menu, I'll be right back!" said a young waitress as she handed Jonathan the menu.
"[NASA scientists are keeping their eyes on the massive sunspots appearing on the Sun's photosphere! Recently, these spots have been causing small explosions, reaching a critical level.
The latest solar flare was very large, causing malfunctions in communication equipment. Therefore, reports sent to communication departments will receive the same automated response.
Earth's electromagnetic waves can travel into space through different electronic devices and expose particles, causing communication interruptions.]"
"That's bad…" Jonathan murmured, thinking more than he let on.
"Not as bad as global warming—though most people don't seem to care about that." The waitress smiled at him. "Have you decided what to order?"
Jonathan gave a faint smile, lightly tapping the menu with his fingers. "A chicken baguette and a cup of coffee, please."
"And for you?"
"A quad iced espresso. As for food, a baguette will do," Wednesday said while flipping through her notes in her journal.
The waitress nodded. "I'll bring them right away, back in a minute."
Jonathan nodded in response. Once she left, he thought, Who would've thought you could find such bright people in the most unexpected places? She seems like a very intelligent woman—something rare these days.
"Do you say that because she's charismatic?"
"I suppose so…" Jonathan replied, keeping his eyes on the news.
"[In more recent news, the World Health Organization has issued a public apology following an unofficial statement posted on one of its largest social media accounts, clarifying that there is no new virus and that the so-called 'Z-ViraX' was simply an error!
It is said that this virus was finally removed from the risk list because incubation within hosts fails to develop, and the virus is eventually destroyed by the body's defenses. However, they stated they will release an official statement soon to clarify all the confusion caused by the unnecessary attention.]"
"Just an error—what a load of bullshit. They're trying to wash our damn brains with all this government-controlled news. I'm sure of it. Maybe we're already all infected," said a man wearing a military cap as he sipped his coffee.
"It could be a mistake. Lately, with all this virus nonsense, people have gone crazy. Imagine the doctors—they're hysterical. Any small sign of an alert, and they'd announce it even if they're not authorized to, just like that unofficial statement," replied a man in his fifties.
Yes, that was true. Jonathan thought the same as the latter. People, especially doctors, were alert to any kind of information that authorities refused to release—but somehow, they had lost faith in humanity.
In Jonathan's view, this news wasn't trending beyond jokes, mostly because of people's desensitization to death—or simply because they hadn't experienced the true horror of a global catastrophe.
This kind of news could very well stem from an attack by a dark entity that would inevitably affect many parts of the world—or a large community.
"Here's your chicken baguette and coffee, and a quad iced espresso with the other baguette. Call me if you need more coffee." The waitress's voice pulled Jonathan out of his thoughts.
"Thank you very much," Jonathan said as his cell phone buzzed with a message.
While he ate, Jonathan tried to clear his mind, wondering if someone was following him—but it didn't seem to be the case.
Just then, a little girl with red, tear-stained eyes entered the café and stared directly at Jonathan, who immediately noticed her presence.
"It's you…"
Jonathan looked up and murmured, "You're not my student."
"A girl told me you'd help me. You're that man who kills bad people."
When Jonathan heard that, he quietly asked, "Do you want a milkshake?"