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🛑 TW: gore/murder/blood, mentions of small injuries.
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🚥 TWO DAYS AGO 🚥
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HANDS SHOVED IN POCKETS without a care in the world, callahan treaded the nightly city streets, this time wearing a sage green hoodie and some sweatpants to appear presentable, his hood always up over his head. he hummed a pleasant tune to himself, not muttering a word as usual.
he continued to walk, about to get close to the alleyway he intended to take a turn into in order to get to techno's bar. however, he was immediately shut down by another presence that was on his tail the entire time. as if on cue, an ominous figure with an average stature sneakily caught up with the reindeer-loving man, and abruptly shoved callahan into a random alleyway, making him fall to the ground with a slight thud on impact.
a confused and distressed callahan looked up to see a figure with a darkened face and black hoodie on peer down at him, stepping closer and closer to him with a knife. his eyes widened at the site, instantly backing away while still on the ground. it felt like he was in a horror movie, the only sound that he could comprehend in his ears was the dripping of an alleyway pipe.
before callahan could stand up, the figure took no time to charge, grabbing him harshly by the neck and stabbing him. the figure didn't stop the blade's penetration though, repeatedly attempting to leave painful wounds in the innocent man's stomach with every simple stab or full blown plunge in the same area on the body. eventually, the figure let go when they felt satisfied, watching callahan's body drop to the ground with a huge thud, dying an utterly silent death while his green hoodie stained with red, his blood slowly pouring out onto the alleyway's ground.
the figure breathed heavily, taking a moment to collect themselves, staring down at the lifeless corpse on the concrete. they never felt an ounce of guilt, taking down their hood while still breathing heavily and contemplating on the various ways to dispose the body. "good thing you're not gonna say a word about this." george muttered to himself, staring at callahan's body with a deadpan expression, bloodied knife gripped tightly in his dominant hand.
