by Return
Namesake
The lines of blood slowly became encrusted on the man's forehead as he lay slumped up against the exterior wall of the decrepit apartment building. The moon cast a cold light onto the scene as Vanil studied the murder from his position atop the adjacent building.
From his position he could see everything as clearly as day. The astonished looks of the investigators as they stared at the scene with wide eyes were the most amusing of them all, however. The other officers, the beat cops that had worked for 20+ years, were also easy to spot. Their faces were stone cold, their monotone voices simply directing the other officers to construct the police line around the scene of the crime and keep the spectators back, their emotions were missing.
The other easy to spot men in the picture were the agents West, North, and Wong, their hands to their earpieces and all of them with the usual "serious" agent look across their faces. It was unusual to see three agents at the scene of a murder investigation... but this just wasn't your everyday murder investigation.
Vanil knew who did it. The Agents knew who did it. It's just no one wanted to clue in the police department, because they all knew that no one would be able to find her, let alone catch her.
The long stemmed blood red rose stuck out from the man's forehead like a knife sticks out of cold butter. The dried blood clung to the rose's stem, providing a chilling clash of deep red to the green of the plant material. Vanil let his dark black sunglasses fall a bit so his own eyes could study the picture... so he knew that the Matrix wasn't deceiving him.
"It's about time you followed your namesake," Vanil muttered, putting his glasses back up. With a flourish of his coat he turned around, staring at the shadows created by the exit to the roof behind him... staring at the smiling purple lips that were just barely catching the light of the moon.
Namesake
The lines of blood slowly became encrusted on the man's forehead as he lay slumped up against the exterior wall of the decrepit apartment building. The moon cast a cold light onto the scene as Vanil studied the murder from his position atop the adjacent building.
From his position he could see everything as clearly as day. The astonished looks of the investigators as they stared at the scene with wide eyes were the most amusing of them all, however. The other officers, the beat cops that had worked for 20+ years, were also easy to spot. Their faces were stone cold, their monotone voices simply directing the other officers to construct the police line around the scene of the crime and keep the spectators back, their emotions were missing.
The other easy to spot men in the picture were the agents West, North, and Wong, their hands to their earpieces and all of them with the usual "serious" agent look across their faces. It was unusual to see three agents at the scene of a murder investigation... but this just wasn't your everyday murder investigation.
Vanil knew who did it. The Agents knew who did it. It's just no one wanted to clue in the police department, because they all knew that no one would be able to find her, let alone catch her.
The long stemmed blood red rose stuck out from the man's forehead like a knife sticks out of cold butter. The dried blood clung to the rose's stem, providing a chilling clash of deep red to the green of the plant material. Vanil let his dark black sunglasses fall a bit so his own eyes could study the picture... so he knew that the Matrix wasn't deceiving him.
"It's about time you followed your namesake," Vanil muttered, putting his glasses back up. With a flourish of his coat he turned around, staring at the shadows created by the exit to the roof behind him... staring at the smiling purple lips that were just barely catching the light of the moon.
