cryptovirologist

clashedcalligraphy

thexmet

thefirecancatchme

veronicawarner

Dropping echoed from the abandoned bathroom's walls, stained with an undescribable fluid, just like the crimson paint splattered across, as if it was a mere canvas. And there he stood, in a pool of blood, reflecting his panting, pale self, the knife he held, but--- he is not alone. The criminal chuckled, leaning his slender frame against the sink. "Woul' ya believe me, if Ah told'cha tha' yer eyes're playin' tricks on ya?"

Samuel sat on the bar stool as he waited for his favorite drink, an apple martini, to be made. He watched the male strippers dance around, having one's and five's stuffed in their speedos, it sorta made him chuckle. 

"Here." The burly man said as he place the drink on the counter. He didn't looked like he belonged here, then again, Sam looked like he didn't either.

He was about to take a sip of his drink when a shoulder grazed passed him and the figure sat in the next chair.