File : #001
Subject: Erica
Statues: Active
Over half an hour had passed, yet Erica's cold gaze had not wavered from the house.
She tilted her head slightly, absentmindedly playing with a strand of her long, silky, hazel-coloured hair as it danced in the wind.
Inside, a man sat at the dinner table with his wife and young son. A radiant chandelier cast warm light over them, their faces glowing with quiet joy as laughter and the comfort of a shared meal filled the room.
"I've been so busy lately… we haven't sat like this in a while," the man said.
His wife smiled faintly. "Knowing your line of work, it might be a while before it happens again."
He smirked. "That would be easier to accept if the food was better."
Her cheeks flushed as she lightly smacked his shoulder. Their son giggled.
Outside, Erica stepped closer.
"People are always softest when they feel safe…" she murmured.
A pause.
"…That's when it hurts the most."
The door exploded inward.
"Room for one more?" she said, a manic laugh slipping through.
Panic filled the room.
The man quickly ushered his wife and child away, stepping forward to block Erica's path. She walked in slowly, almost casually.
"You're one of them… aren't you?" he asked, his voice unsteady.
No response.
Only a cold, suffocating glare.
He lunged for a pistol hidden behind a cupboard—
—but Erica was already behind him.
She snatched the weapon from his hand and tossed it aside like it meant nothing.
He tried to run.
A sharp pull.
A brutal punch.
Then a kick to the gut that sent him crashing across the room, slamming into the wall.
He hit the ground hard.
Before he could recover, Erica stepped forward and drove her foot into his face. Blood spilled instantly, his nose breaking under the force.
A small voice cried out.
"Dad!"
The child.
The wife clutched him tightly, tears streaming down her face. "Please—don't kill him!"
Erica turned.
She took a step toward them.
"Please—my family…" the man choked from the floor. "Don't touch them. Nothing would hurt me more…"
She stopped.
"…Hurt?"
Her pupils widened.
Something shifted.
For a moment, the room blurred.
Her hand trembled as it rose to her head. A sharp pressure built behind her eyes—
Fragments.
Voices.
Pain.
She clenched her jaw.
No.
That wasn't hers.
"…Leave," she said quietly.
The wife didn't hesitate. She grabbed the child and fled.
Silence returned.
Erica walked toward the man, her expression empty again.
"Where are they?" she asked. "The Ares candidates."
He hesitated.
Then broke.
He told her everything.
A location. Names. Enough.
Erica nodded once.
Then—without hesitation—
she killed him.
The house fell still.
She turned and walked away, her steps quickening slightly as she reached the door.
Something about that place…
felt wrong.
She didn't look back.