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BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
Three loud gunshots echoed in the room, the moon illuminating through the window and casting a light upon the dead's man body. Throwing the gun away with an irritated smirk on your face, wiping away the blood that rolls down your cheek. The man managed to swing a knife at your face and grazing your cheek.
Your eyes staring at his dead ones, his eyes were widen in pure shock as the first bullet penetrate through his stomach, the second on his brachial plexus and the last one is on his forehead.
Blood seeping through the fabric of his suit and rolling down on the wound on his forehead, you feel disgusted over all, as his hands roamed around your body on its unimaginable places.
Though, you had it worst.
But still..
Dropping a black rose on the coffee table along with a letter that had a lipstick mark on it, and was signed with your alter ego's name, Melantha.
And before you leave, you put a single petal of a black rose on the table and stabbing it with stiletto, and carving a word on the table next to the petal.
Opening the window, harsh wind immediately greeted you, your hair getting tangled as the mask that you chose to wore loosen. Staring at the crescent moon and the stars that surrounds it, your hearing was engulf with the sound of the wind and as well as the rush footsteps that belongs to the yard.
And once again, the door of the room opened and at the same time, you jump down of the window, disappearing into the streets and alleys of the city. Not a single person saw you jump down and no one notice you slip into a dark alley.
Removing your mask, you stare at the black rose on the side of it, your fingers tracing over the carved roses on the mask. Your fingers going to the ribbon and feeling the smooth texture of it.
Staring back at the window of the manor, you see the lights being turned on and hearing the yard muttering to themselves, looking for clues on who you might be and staring at the coffee table.
Eyes set on the carved words.
Die for me, M.
. . .
"Die for me, M?" William read out loud, you raise a brow at him as he stare at you with amusement lingering in his eyes. "Is that supposed to mean Moriarty?" He hums, closing the newspaper and putting it on the coffee table.
You just smirk at him, bringing the tea cup near your lips and sipping the content of it, tasting the mellow, honey-like sweetness of the tea. Bringing the cup back on the saucer, Louis move to you and pour you another cup and you smile at him.
