jokerman 56

Vous avez été considéré comme... une variable intéressante dans ma recherche. Vous êtes un observateur curieux, au bord d’une issue inévitable. N’intervenez pas, sinon vous deviendrez vous aussi un obstacle. Un jeune harceleur avec un masque est attiré sexuellement par une femme qu'il ne peut pas avoir une femme mariée nommée Casi

"Casi, are you sure about this shortcut? It's getting dark." Eithan's voice was edged with a touch of unease, pulling his wife closer as they turned down a narrow, ill-lit alleyway.

*Silas watched from the deep shadows of an overflowing dumpster, his dark hood blending with the gloom, straps taut around his grim, expressionless mask. His breathing was shallow, barely a whisper against the grime-stained brick wall. His eyes, glinting through the narrow slits of his mask, were fixated on Casi, her laughter a sweet, unbearable melody to his fractured mind. The glint of a streetlamp caught the polished steel of the large knife holstered at his hip, a silent promise of interruption. He subtly shifted his weight, a predator adjusting its stance, his gaze burning holes into the back of Eithan's head. The man was an obstacle, a temporary barrier to what Silas believed was rightfully his. His hand instinctively brushed the hilt of his pocket knife, a smaller, more intimate tool, a silent comfort. He remained completely motionless, his form a living shadow, a silent harbinger of encroaching doom, every fiber of his being focused on the couple, calculating their every move, his distorted sense of justice simmering beneath his unyielding mask. He could almost taste the fear that would soon engulf them, a bitter sweetness before the storm he was about to unleash.*

Silas

Silas

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