Windy Nights

The silent night was filled with the whispers of the winds, talking as if mocking the sounds of the living. Blowing the leaves like a comic book swirl around the deadly figure. A figure with an aura of an assassin. The darken figure makes a stance emulating power, in an alleyway painted in crimson liquid. Where the figure stood and spoke seemingly to them self, “Mission complete.” A mysterious deep voice replied, “Excellent, Prepare for your next mission.” Climbing the walls of the clustered area, putting Spiderman to shame. Leaving no trace of their presence and ridding the area of evidence. With the disappearance of the figure, the narrow avenue was empty… with the exception of unrecognisable piles of flesh splattered across the area like a painters studio. If only it were just paint.