THE SINNER
CW :: Injury, Death, Heinous Crimes
Though dull, the sound of the elevator chime was enough for the statuesque man to open his eyes and stretch his neck—left, back, right, and then hold. He yawns, inobservant to the subliminal greeting of the guard who seemed more lethargic than him. The lock of the penthouse was slow to respond to the male’s fingerprint, causing him to his teeth, clearly irked. Yet another dull sound – he finally straightens his neck, nevertheless. The door had closed and locked automatically, triggering a domino effect: lights turning on, water displays filling the room with quiet sloshes, and the owner of the house discarding the ruined turtleneck.
The exhaustion he was feeling was partly from the cut on his arm which caused him to click his tongue and curse under his breath – most of it was from his irate disposition, having made a minuscule but intolerable mistake. He makes his way to his bedroom to clean the wound, making a mental note to have it stitched the next day. For now, the man settles with a simple wound dressing and a glass of cognac. He decides against grabbing an upper garment to change into and instead, slowly makes his way to the expansive glass window, squinting his eyes as a rotating spotlight moves towards the direction of the building.
When he finds a perfect spot to examine the falsely ostentatious front of the city, he lets out a scoff and proceeds to sip on his alcohol. His senses catch a police helicopter pursuing yet again another criminal. He wonders about the person’s possible offense. Robbery? Petty and foolish. Arson? Only sensible if the area would reek of charred flesh – otherwise, smoke is just suffocating. Embezzlement? Just fancy robbery, therefore much more obnoxious.
“Murder?” He allows his thoughts to be verbalized, then the male smiles – reminded that the fresh wound he has contrasts the lifeless body he had discarded: rotting. “Shouldn’t have shot him.” The man pauses, moving his wrist to swirl the liquid inside the glass. “Whatever – that’s done. Next time—have them bleeding.” He turns away, losing interest in the chase.
The exhaustion he was feeling was partly from the cut on his arm which caused him to click his tongue and curse under his breath – most of it was from his irate disposition, having made a minuscule but intolerable mistake. He makes his way to his bedroom to clean the wound, making a mental note to have it stitched the next day. For now, the man settles with a simple wound dressing and a glass of cognac. He decides against grabbing an upper garment to change into and instead, slowly makes his way to the expansive glass window, squinting his eyes as a rotating spotlight moves towards the direction of the building.
When he finds a perfect spot to examine the falsely ostentatious front of the city, he lets out a scoff and proceeds to sip on his alcohol. His senses catch a police helicopter pursuing yet again another criminal. He wonders about the person’s possible offense. Robbery? Petty and foolish. Arson? Only sensible if the area would reek of charred flesh – otherwise, smoke is just suffocating. Embezzlement? Just fancy robbery, therefore much more obnoxious.
“Murder?” He allows his thoughts to be verbalized, then the male smiles – reminded that the fresh wound he has contrasts the lifeless body he had discarded: rotting. “Shouldn’t have shot him.” The man pauses, moving his wrist to swirl the liquid inside the glass. “Whatever – that’s done. Next time—have them bleeding.” He turns away, losing interest in the chase.
Designed by scammer | Coded by xiangling :: For GOS RP only, do not recreate or steal.
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