Chapter 11: Murderous Intent
Lincoln sighed, trying to calm his nerves as he stared at Flip's store front.
"The thing is, there's only this store nearby, and I have to sell these things as soon as possible. But the only problem is that that old bastard is going to want to buy these things at a very low price."
After taking a few deep breaths, he finally resigned himself and decided to face the inevitable.
"Okay, let's go."
Lincoln muttered to himself, taking a few steps towards the store door. Before entering, he looked up at the sky as if expecting an answer from the gods, but all he got was the glare of the sun reflecting off the store windows.
"What the fuck."
That was the last thing Lincoln said before entering the store.
Inside, I tried to sell everything I'd brought from home, which were my rare magazines from 'Às Astuto' and his doll, which, as well as being very rare, I'd also spent a lot of money to buy, of course, after several months of suffering doing small jobs around the city. However, that old bastard only wanted to give me a measly 1 dollar for it all.
"Come on, Flip, you've got to think again, haven't you? These magazines and this doll are quite rare. Just so you know, if I sold it to a specialty store or to a collector, I'd get at least a thousand dollars for it all."
Said Lincoln, trying to hide some of his anger as he tried to bargain. After all, when you spend so much time trying to survive on your own, you have to learn a thing or two in order not to die.
But, after a lot of insistence and bargaining on Lincoln's part, he finally managed to get Flip to give in and, as a last offer, offer five hundred dollars for everything.
I couldn't believe it myself. Imagine my surprise after discovering my bargaining skills. Honestly, even I was impressed. After all, I thought I'd only get a couple of hundred dollars. Then imagine my surprise when I got five hundred dollars for things that weren't even rare. The most I'd spent on them was a hundred dollars.
"Thanks, Flip. You made a great deal!"
Said Lincoln with a fake smile on his face, but inside he was laughing a lot because of the situation. Afterwards, he shook hands with the store owner, whose eyes were shining, thinking he could get a thousand dollars out of the whole thing.
(Fuck off, you prick. Don't you like screwing other people? Well, taste your own poison).
Lincoln thought as he stared at Flip, who didn't even notice the boy, with an indifferent expression, staring at him with a serious look.
(You can be sure that when it's all over and that shit starts, you won't have to worry about the monsters killing you. After all, I'll be in charge of that myself, and I'll do it with great pleasure).
After staring for half an hour at the old man, who hadn't noticed a thing, Lincoln ended up remembering something unpleasant that had happened before his return, which Flip himself had done to him. Unable to hold in his anger, he accidentally let his murderous intent slip out, resulting in the store owner becoming short of breath and almost fainting.
"Shit, why is it so hard to control this murderous intent?"
Lincoln asked himself, without the store owner being able to hear.
After that brief moment of tension that Lincoln had created because of his anger, he took a deep breath and tried to calm down. After all, he didn't want to attract any more attention than he already had.
After calming down and realizing that he couldn't let his emotions take over, Lincoln shook Flip's hand one last time and faced him with a cold smile, carefully controlling his words.
"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Flip."
After that, Lincoln turned and left the store. Outside, he decided to head home. After half an hour's walk, he finally arrived at his home.
"Man, today was really tiring. But at least I managed to sell all that old stuff and on top of that I got the money I needed for my preparations."
Whispered Lincoln with a serious expression on his face, as he entered the house. Inside, he passed through the hallway to the kitchen and, without wasting any time, went upstairs, but without first hearing his mother calling him for dinner.
"Son, dinners on the table."
Rita said, almost shouting!
As he climbed the stairs, Lincoln heard his mother calling him, and he answered her calmly.
"All right, I'll just leave my backpack in my room and I'll be right back."
When he got to his room, Lincoln dropped his backpack on the floor next to his bed. After that, he began to look around the room and, with a sense of comfort, approached the mirror and made a promise to himself, while staring at his own reflection in the mirror.
"This time, I promise that those close to me will not die, and for those who have dared to betray me before, wait until yours is kept, and kept very well."
That was the last comment Lincoln made before making a pact with himself.
After forming that pact, Lincoln punched the mirror and, with his blood dripping, formed a blood pact with himself. After that, he went into the bathroom, wiped his bleeding hand and then went downstairs and into the kitchen, where all his sisters and his father and mother were waiting for him.
"Good night, son!"
My father said cheerfully, with a smile on his face, looking at me as I sat down in the chair.
"Good night, Dad!"
Lincoln replied, still with that fake smile he used to give. After all, when you live in a world where killing is the only option not to die, you're bound to end up losing something, and it was no different with him. Over the years, he lost an emotion every day, and one of them was empathy, which led him to no longer feel anything for anyone and to no longer be able to smile sincerely.
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