Postman #1 - Pilot

Volume 1

//Pilot

12.03 am. Putra Height, Malaysia.

I am a motherfucking Starboy. Look what you've done.

Yeah. I am looking at what I've done now. 30 minutes earlier I have banged my way here into this million ringgit manor. Knocked down 7 security personnels with them nice suits on - what a shame. I didn't kill them; I am educated enough to kill only the bad guy. All my bullets remain intact. My killer instinct filled my brain - my adrenaline pumped throughout my veins in excitements. I couldn't stop imagining the moment when these bullets deploy out my Glock 31, victoriously piercing the brain of the sinner - which is sitting in front of me in his blue velvet bath robe; hands and feet tightly tied.

"Mr. Yi Fei" 

I sit on the floor, facing my prey. He looks like a typical malay guy, sun-kissed skin accompanied by a handful of accessories-muscle. Haha, that's how I call those muscles that can't be used to properly fight. He looks so pitiful, shivering in fear that his life is going to be ended anytime soon.

"Who the hell are you?.. Who sent you?!"

"I am a Postman"

I take a look at Yi Fei straight in the eyes with the most sympathetic expression I can fake. His thick brows accompanied by red watery pair of eyes, looking at me so deadly, angrily, sad and beautiful at the same time.  

"Who sent you, bloody motherfucker!!"

Sigh. I despise foul-mouthed brat the most. I was expecting my prey in this mission to be less verbally-aggressive. He is a Malay - a race known for their politeness attitude, as I read in Wikipedia. But I was wrong. I couldn't care less.

"God sent me here. This is a letter is for you. And this is for the 7 lives you reap on the night of 31 December 2014, Bangsar Village."

His eyes bulge in shock. Cold sweat drops down his cheek. I just read him the facts written on a piece of paper that was given to me by the commissioner. The sinner should be apprised about the sin that they've committed, at least at the very moment of their death. It is a killing-courtesy my master taught me. 

"- You should see this coming Mr. Yi Fei. Any last words?"

He just sit there in front of me in an expressionless silence. He shut his eyes as tears run down. He cried aloud like a scared boy. His tears of regret was a little too late. It won't revive any life or even touch my inner apathy. Okay, my call then. I stand up, walk about 7 feet back, ready to make a clean kill. My finger is on the trigger. I aimed my gun to the center of his forehead. No more wait. BAM.

You should see the look in his eyes when a .357 bullet make a way through his head. A clean kill, I didn't explode his head apart, no scattered brainmatter, no bloody mess. The brand new Evo 9 silencer made it a quiet shot. He didn't have any time left even to groan. The shot entirely shut his system down. What is left is just a penny-sized hole on the forehead with some blood dripping down like water drops from a loose tap.

I put the paper that I read him previously beneath his robe. His lifeless body remains on the place where I shoot him. Before I leave the scene, I took a moment to make sure that I didn't any trace behind. And I know I am not the only one doing this. 

I am a Postman. I post justice to the people that stand higher than the law because of their name, position or political power they carry.

So, keep me in mind.