Fits chuckled, his foot placed firmly on the head under him. With a satisfying crunch, the head caved in as Fits stepped down.
Blood was everywhere from the multiple bodies laying throughout the alley. "If you wanna start a fight throw the first punch," Fits hummed. "Make it a good one."
He chuckles, slicking back his hair, hands covered in blood, and walking out of the alley. He held a few thousand dollars in his fingers, handing it to the police officer.
"Sorry about the mess, Wattson. Ring me if you need some extra help."
Then he just walks past the bar, hands shoved in his jacket, a lit cigeret in his mouth.
Fits eyes were dark with dark circles under them. He looked misraubly sadistic, blood drying on his cheek. He rubbed his cheek, only smearing more on. He scoffed grumbling to himself until he got the familiar feeling of being followed. He smiled slightly, making a sharp turn into a large open space.
He stoped for a second, listening for the amount of feet. Huh... That's about.... Ten? Huh. They really went easy on 'em.
Fits turned around, smiling wide. "Hey guys!!" He chuckled. "Who's first!?"
I'm just gonna leave this here... Please excuse any typos and grammatical mistakes! Feel free to ask questions!
