A note from IaOliver

Extra chapter because I want to pile up fast in this initial process.

(word count: 314)

The Tracer were this obnoxious little man, an old black skinned dwarf, who had a temper of a least ten times his height. He had a way of not only acting, but also presenting himself in a way that put him on a argument at least once a day. It goes without saying that, because of it, most people hated him, and the Franklyns weren’t exceptions to that.

The old man Tracer (and it’s important to mention that he changed his whole family’s name to that after he got know for his power) and the old man Franklyn, little Aaron’s grandad, had a long lasted quarrel that dated to their teenage years, which scaled to both of them publicly cutting ties with each other and refusing to go anywhere near one another. The whole situation was so bad the Grandad Franklyn insisted in making all of his family’s home equipped with some cleaners and devices that erased human residues every twenty four hours, so that the Tracer had a smaller chance of ever deciding to use his powers on them.

The fight last until the kidnapping day, when grandad not only apologise, but also requested his help. Now, if it was any other situation, Mr Tracer would tell him to screw himself, but the little man was well know to not fuck around with family’s matters, especially when a child was involved. The events of his early days taught him better, after all.

And therefore, the iconic The Tracer was now with the human residues collected of the alleyway behind the building where the Franklyn lived, place where the little Aaron had been taken. Nails, hair, phlegm, condoms, dry blood, he put it all in his well designed old fashioned suitcase and lead the police and the Franklyn to the people who had been in that spot in the last month, one by one.


About the author


Bio: Meh, just a young adult trying to get distracted in this fucked up world.

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