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The black arms of the clock faced the grim sky.
Shards of fallen glass mirrored the red moon. Whispers of the wind entered through the broken window.
The fob of a pocket watch fell on the ground. In an empty room, present but a man.
The fabric present in the room was dyed red in the marking of a human skull. On top of the drawn circle rested a man, his legs crossed.
His white hair glittered, marking the color of the moon. His black eyes peered, dead focus on the metallic shine of the barrel. His fingers caressed the trigger. Another hand clutched the grip, feeling through the dry surface.
He gasped as he brought the muzzle closer to his nose.
The metallic smell added with a bit of gunpowder made his body flinch.
His finger brushed past the gun’s hammer and opened the cylinder. His pupils dilated as he saw the six holes bristled with bullets.
He pushed the cylinder back and pulled the hammer. The revolver clicked, ready to fire.
His mouth opened as he inserted the muzzle, the metallic barrel barged against his teeth, and his tongue felt the dry dust embedded in the barrel.
He looked above while the gun pointed toward his brain from inside.
He gripped the gun with both his hands. Two thumbs entered inside the trigger guard. His skin felt the touch against the trigger.
His facials tightened as his lip broadened, and a light smile emerged.
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He tightened his thumb. Thus, the trigger was pulled.
In the silent night, the sound of a gunshot echoed through that room.
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The black arms of the clock faced the grim sky.
Inside the room was a man. He held a revolver in his hands. His finger brushed past the gun’s hammer and opened the cylinder. His pupils dilated as he saw the six holes bristled with bullets.
He pushed the cylinder back and pulled the hammer. The revolver clicked, ready to fire.
His right hand held the gun. He lifted his hand, holding the revolver, and pointed the muzzle towards his temple.
His facials tightened as his lip broadened, and a light smile emerged.
He clutched his index finger. Thus, the trigger was pulled.
In the silent night, the sound of the gunshot echoed through that room.
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The back arms of the clock faced the grim sky.
Inside the room was a man. He placed the revolver on the ground. His finger pulled a fob, bringing the pocket watch into his palm. He looked, the hour hand and minute hand pointed directly above.
“On time,” He whispered.
Wind barged in through the broken window on the right and disturbed the papers resting on the left side of the wall. A red board rested on the wall. On the boards, pieces of newspapers were pinned.
〚Stabbed! Two Women Stabbed Inside A Cab〛
〚President Assures The Capture Of The "Acolyte of Evil"〛
〚Killer On The Loose! The Death Count Increases To 20〛
〚A Family Of 4 Electrocuted〛
〚A High-School Class Of 50 Students Missing〛
〚The President Murdered!〛
〚Riots Arises, Just Who Is The Masked killer?〛
〚The Masked Killer Strikes Again〛
As the man stared at the pocket watch, the skull formation, made on the ground, shone.
Red glimmers emerged in the red room. The glow circled his body; his expression yet remained indifferent.
Soon, his body disappeared.
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