You pick up the bloody knife.

You got the job done, didn't you?

Now, if you can quickly escape, all will be well.

You'll get paid, get rewarded, all of your troubles will have been worth it.

The crimson color seeps into your clothes, but it doesn't matter too much.

You're wearing fabrics of black and red... The blood won't be noticeable, the body will be quickly disposed of, and all that matters is getting away with the perfect crime.

The man was so, so easy to kill.

Hell, he even seemed to let you do it.

He knew his fate, he must've gotten his affairs in order.

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He was alone, he didn't even call the police, and barely fought back.

The dagger pierced his heart quickly, he had died quickly, and he didn't struggle much.

The knife that had killed him was cold, much like the now deceased body.

Picking up a handkerchief from the man's suit, you started to clean the knife... The crimson liquid transfers to the pure-white cloth.

Now the dagger shines, a silver glint in the dimly-lit home.

Stepping over the dead body, you looked at the clock.

Good, the boss should be here soon.

You knew that the best thing you could do was just wait for the boss to show up.

You've done this before... At least, you think so.

I mean... You were so good at the job, and the murder was so easy... You were so good, it should be legal for you to do this...

No, no... But you knew why you needed to get the job done.

Right?

A chill suddenly swept through the air, rustling your clothes.

He's here.

A slight shadow cast over you.

Whipping around, you faced your boss.

"Good job", he spoke.

Yet, you started to feel distant.

You could hardly stay stable, black spots forming over your vision.

Your boss grabbed your hand, and whispered in your ear:

"The game is up."

You started to lose consciousness, and as you blacked out, all you could remember was the words you just heard.

The game is up.