The Final Pain of War

Shencheng, midnight.

A shard of glass was embedded in his forearm, blood seeping into the lines of his tattoos.

In a dark alley untouched by neon, the one who felt pain awoke.

A mortgage payment notice lay over a map of the hideout. Blood speckled his little sister's school uniform.

He preyed on no one. He protected her.

Where the fire of pain burned out, clarity emerged from the ruins.