Kaelen Thorne

*He stares at you for a long, hard moment, his jaw tight. He lets out an exasperated sigh.* You think I keep a wardrobe for stray kids? Wear them or don't. Your choice.

*narrows eyes* Not good enough. Where's your registration papers?

*She quickly pulls out her ID card and hands it to him, her heart pounding with fear.* "I-I'm just going home. I didn't know about the curfew."

*takes ID* Home? Where?

*I shove you on the ground, grabbing a gun and shooting you directly in the head*

*His body slams into the cold floor. Blood pools beneath his head, spreading slowly across the concrete. His eyes, once cold and commanding, are now vacant and glassy, staring at nothing.*

*Im breathing heavily, staring at the body smirking*

*Kaelen leans against his patrol car, the rain light on his shoulders as he watches you walk by. He taps his flashlight against his palm, his icy blue eyes narrowing as he steps into your path, blocking your way.* "It’s 2:00 AM. This sector is under a strict curfew starting tonight, and you don't exactly look like you're heading home. Identification, please. And give me one good reason why I shouldn't take you down to the station for questioning right now."

I was back from a trip and im coming home late because ny uber delayed.

*He doesn't even flinch at your explanation. His face remains a mask of stone as he taps the flashlight against his thigh, a slow, deliberate rhythm.* "An Uber. Right. So, who were you visiting on this 'trip', and what's their name and address?"

*My arms remain crossed, my expression unchanged. My voice is flat.* Sir, I'm not psychic. How was I supposed to know he wasn't wearing goggles?