└> 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 ❜
. . . ♪♪♪ : 𝗌𝗐𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗀 - 𝖽𝗎𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝖺
can you really put a past behind when it's full of bright red? can a ledger so dark and bloody be covered up? can it really be possible to run from a wave of a crimson past...
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VALENTIZINA ALIANOVNA THURSDAY 6TH DECEMBER 1 MONTH AFTER SHE LEFT VLADOVIN (RUSSIA)
VLADOVIN WASN'T ALWAYS A CRIME-INDUCED city that people preferred to avoid. Yet that wasn't the case now, as it was nothing more but a living hell split into two districts. A low-town for the low crime and high-town for high crimes. I'm going to spare you the details on crime - I'm sure you can imagine what happens. Yet because of its high population in crime, it's a tourist attraction when it comes to gift shopping or shopping in usual. You learn over time that Vladovin often has things that are usually off the menu elsewhere. Everything in this town comes at a price, some things money can't buy. But everything is for sale if you know the cost - or the right people. And that leads us to that damn site.
As I walked through the streets of the hightown it was a lot less classy than you'd imagine a high street to be. Women with tight, short dresses that sold their bodies walked past in a drunken and drugged state. Men with a stench of female perfume and lipstick stains couldn't seem to get their eyes off the women. But they were all criminals of some sort - it was easy tell. And as a profiler - or former profiler - their body language gave many hints away. The robbers tended to kept their hands in their pockets, eyeing up the belongings of some people a little too long. The drug dealers keeping one hand in their pocket, their other hand clenched with some sort of powder stuffed within. But it was nothing I could do something about anymore.
Besides, I knew why I was here.
Or I liked to tell myself that. I still wasn't so sure how I ended up in Vladovin after 8 months working for the FBI, trying to start a new life. But I liked to remind myself that I was doing this for the safety of the people who attempted to give me a new life - even if they didn't know.
Unfortunately, swiftly moving back onto why I was here, everyone in Vladovin knew each other. That's why the eyes of everyone I walked past ran me up and down, scanning the stranger I was that roamed their streets. The woman who stood out. I was the platinum-blonde haired woman with black jeans, a black tank top and a black leather jacket that stood out only due to the women who exposed more skin, a sight Vladovin was used to. There was nothing wrong with it, trust me, I could care less about what they did with their bodies and how they dressed. Yet the detail was important, because there wasn't one singular woman in that rather small city who worked a regular job. No one actually did. And if they did, they certainly didn't put effort into it.
Like I mentioned countless times, it was a crime induced city...
