Gun Metal
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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing5m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Sep 24, 2019
Paint a mental image, if you will, of clasped hands littered with tattoos and silver rings. Two descending into a blackened night pool which so happens to be a glittering city skyline. Blood washes from money, as it does from the man.
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Moonlight glinted off of the sharp tip of the knife. It was clothed in the blackness of her dried blood. The cloaked figure curled his lips as he wiped the knife off using his jacket. Tonight he would be praised. Tonight he would be honored for his kill. She was on the top of the society's list. He didn't know why and frankly he didn't care as long as he got his pay. He sheathed his knife and took the girls' bloodied wrists in his hands. He dragged her into the open casket and locked it shut. As the midnight clouds began to cry tears, he shoveled dirt into the small hole where the casket lay. He threw the shovel and his blood covered gloves in the muddy duffel bag. Walking over the bridge he found various large rocks and shoved them in the bag, making it almost too heavy for him to carry. His dark, dangerous eyes gleamed as he threw the bag into the river and watched it sink into darkness.

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