Sha Qing

Chapter 31: Blood-Stained Kiss (2)

The good-looking lad stared at him and smiled bitterly. He thought his plan would be successful, but in the end, he was put together by this FBI agent.

"You think I won't cut off your wrist?" He threatened the sleeping, dark-haired man but obviously, the other party did not give any response.

In fact, Leo had the choice to not tell him about the mobile phone thing at all. When the roaring police car surrounds the whole building by that time, perhaps, he was still dragging the other person's unconscious body and crawling in the dark corridor to find the key. As he thought of this, Sha Qing suddenly smiled again.

He lowered his head and kissed the other's wet and dusty hair, and said softly, "Goodbye, brave young lion."

Then, he gritted his teeth and bent the thumb joint of his left hand backwards, and a crisp snapping sound was heard. He resisted the pain as he pulled his hand out of the steel handcuffs and fixed back his dislocated thumb joint.

He pulled out his gun and pointed it towards Cavalry's back head, but after thinking about it, he retracted the gun again. He didn't want to do it while Leo was unconscious.

He simply turned away, and Sha Qing's figure sank into the darkness...

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Leo was awakened by the constant cries. He opened his eyelids, and his hazy eyes focused on a familiar face. "Rob ..." he said hoarsely. "You look ugly - like you had a hangover after a night of revelry."

"I haven't slept for a fucking moment!" The brown-haired, green-eyed agent said with a twisted face. "I'm glad you are not dead yet, and it looks like you still have a long way to go before getting covered by the national flag." The uneasiness and concern cannot be hidden despite his angry tone.

"You got them?"

"Oh, yes. One dead and one injured- it seems that I still underestimated your skill, Leo."

"What about Sha Qing?" He asked hesitantly but also eagerly.

"Sha Qing? He appeared? You fought against him?" Rob asked in surprise.

Leo lifted his right wrist, only to find the other end of the handcuffs hanging empty. Rob's eyes widened, "God, you caught him and handcuffed him to you? Then he escaped again? Did he knock you out? Did you see what he looked like?"

"... It's a long story." Leo answered.

"Come on, let's go back and talk." Rob wanted to help him stand up; probably because of the gauze hanging of his armed looked tragic.

.

.

.

The cavalry's hands were still painfully handcuffed behind his back. He was held by two police officers as he dragged his injured right leg out of the building.

Leo looked back- the desolate and overcast building was like the residual consciousness of evil spirits, dancing its teeth and claws in the night. The cornerstone of the gate was engraved with two lines of Gothic text, faintly visible in the illumination of the car's headlights. He read it, word by word,

"I could not help the fact that I was a murderer, no more than the poet can help the inspiration to sing."

This is the former master of the horror castle's life creed; a psychopatic serial killer's declaration of victory.

"Damn it ..." Leo muttered.

"Yes, these serial murderers all deserve death!" Rob agreed and hatefully glanced at the cavalry who was about to be escorted into the car. When I thought of the policemen's death in the hands of those two scumbags, when I thought of Mike, I can't wait to blow his hea-"

Before the last of his words fell, the cavalry's head suddenly burst, like an egg that exploded in a microwave oven- red blood and white brain plasma sprayed to the nearby officer's face.

Then a low gunshot came again.

"Sniper!" Someone screamed, and the policemen searched for the nearest shelter. A team of FBI commando quickly flashed into the shadows and ran towards the visual sniper point.

Rob struggled to drag Leo into the car and pressed him under the rear seat, fearing that he would charge into the formation, "You are an injured person, don't be a hero!"

Leo let his partner carry him, and was not surprised at this kind of end. From the moment he discovered that Sha Qing had escaped, he had already predicted Cavalry's fate, and now his worries became true.

That guy is a serial killer. He does what he wants, and acts arbitrarily. He should have kept that in mind, rather than waiting for the bloody truth to be splashed in front of him again; before regretting that he hadn't pulled the trigger right then.

As for that inexplicable kiss ... That was indeed a mistake, an aftermath of excessive adrenaline secretion, just like the irrational actions that people often make when faced with death-he must completely forget it.

But now, he was very tired, too exhausted to lift even his own spirit. He needed a death-like sleep; without blood, without dreams.