“You should have known I would find you eventually.” The man declared with a victorious spark in his voice. After scratching his head, he run his fingers over his buzz cut. His leather jacket was zipped up to his neck. He wasn’t ashamed of his scarred hands. The pair of jeans he was wearing was dirty and cheap.
He strolled around the lavish penthouse, taking in the sights. His face was twisted, lingering somewhere on the boundary of hate and madness. The former was keeping him from completely losing control. Continue reading








