𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐍 || Choi San 18+

𝐑 𝐄 𝐀 𝐏 𝐄 𝐑

!! 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 !!

This story contains mature content (18+)
Explicit language, murder, blood, gunplay, knifeplay, cutting, blood tasting, oral (both receiving), choking, double fingering (f!receiving), edging, overstimulation, tying down, mdom, pet names, downgrading, face riding, mentions of breeding, mind games

.•°•.

   The sun began setting in vivid colors, painting the heavy cirrocumulus clouds bright red in the early autumn sky. No wonder the panorama had the whole city in awe. The view was indeed breathtaking, almost overwhelming, causing almost every pedestrian to stop and admire, then eventually eternalizing the scenery with their phone cameras.

   However, there was one person that seemed to be completely immune to the capturing sights.

   Not one of the passersby were paying attention to the ordinary looking man that occupied a little fragment of pavement aside, next to a small but busy cafe in the east part of Manhattan. He stood there, dressed in black from head to toe, with his back against the building's brick wall. One hand submerged in his pocket, the other rolled a half smoked cigarette between his slim fingers.

   The man looked like everyone else on the street, irrelevant.

   And that was what he intended.

   Blending into the crowd and becoming completely invisible weren't much of an effort to him; one of only two lessons that Choi San actually appreciated being taught during his time spent in the military. The other one was of course how to obliterate his own humanity. Both those valuable lessons now allowed him to wipe his ass with money.

   A pair of sharp eyes flashed with threatening unpleasantness from under the black cap that was hiding San’s face. The urge to silence two loud love birds across the street was colossal. 

   His jaw clenched, teeth gritting with annoyance. His neck veins popped from raising irritation with their obnoxious behavior as they were taking hundreds of basic pictures of each other in the incredible lighting. He couldn't help but stroke the gunmetal, hidden deep in his pocket as the killer's instincts were heavily tempted.

   Again he was forced to focus on gathering all the thoughts he had to prioritize. No suspicious movements should be made. He glared at a nearby skyscraper, basking in the blinding sun. 

   The bloody star burned more with every minute. To some, that display of nature was just a sign of colder weather the next day. Those more superstitious individuals were lowering the draws while cursing the red ball on the horizon, considering it an omen of the innocent blood being spilled tonight.

   San couldn't care less of any of that; weather foreshadowing or some stupid beliefs. For him, today's light of the sunset was nothing but pure luck, its help in hiding the red dot sight, which would make his job ten times easier.

   "Fucking clowns." He spat out, when squeaky excited voices of the couple echoed again between tall buildings, almost disturbing his state of concentration.

   However, it was not enough to make his hawk-like vision not register a sudden, weak movement on the roof of the building before him. 

   A pleased smirk appeared on his dangerously handsome face, giving its sharp features all the cocky colors.

   "Hello there."