Unsung Heroes, by Edward Enjuto (dso)
Escondido in an abandoned warehouse, trying to heal his wound, the man cursed his bad luck as the hooded man approached.
-Me 've found, "he said. Very clever. Did it help the blood trail?
"Do not mock, Victor," the man in the ski mask, "you're not in position. I asked you and delivered you to stop taking the law into your own hands. At the end you have had to confront the police.
Victor smiled. It was not the first time they had that conversation, but it could be the last. Assessed its options. Were few.
"You also acts as a judge, hooded, but do not dare to show their faces," he said.
"I am not a murderer.
-also have their hands stained blood, so you're talking to me and unreported. Now, if you're not going to help me or give me, I'd appreciate it leave me alone.
The hooded hesitated. His sense of duty to tell him he had handed over to justice, but he was tired, very tired. To face the same criminals day after day, to verify that the system was broken, to feel that their efforts, in the end, did not change anything. Victor did the same to him, but his methods were too cruel, calling too much attention, and ended becoming a target.
decided to turn around and walked away rapid pace. Not help thinking, nor informed of his whereabouts. Maybe someday, just maybe, they could end up helping each other.
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