I threw his dead body onto the ground and stuck the gun back into my leather boot. Adjusting my slick, skin tight Jacket, I applied some red lipstick. I ran my hand over the leather pants that were just the right tight on my legs. I leaned over and kissed his cheek, leaving a bold lipstick mark on the side of his face. I took my ponytail out and let my red hair blow into the wind. "So I heard you didn't like me anymore. Bad move Babe. But ya know what?" I whispered, looking at the red mark, " Go ahead and suck it, cause I don't need you anymore. In fact, nobody does! Because baby, your dead." I stood up and turned to rune hen I hears the sirens and saw the red and blue entoxicating lights. I ran away from the old news gracefully in my all black, sexy leather, leaving only a kiss behind. ]£$$ PS. Dedicated to (you know who you are) So long! Goodbye! I don't need you anymore ^.^
Dude that's awesome I wanna be in it Name: Damien Age: 23 Height: 6' 6" Weight: 260 lbs Personality: funny, sarcastic, flirty, loveable, awesome Features:blue eyes dark hair Clothing: Detective type tan overcoat with a full headed cotton white mask with black blotches on it, and a tan leather fedora.
I'm an epic assassin that looks like a detective at first glance basically.. Or look up Rorschach from watchmen that's what I'll look like
I ran to the abandoned apartment building. My breath was fast and short, but I continued to run. When I got to the empty, trashed building a man was standing in front of the crumbling door. I gasped as he said," I know who you are." I breathed the words 'Detective'. "No!" he shouted," Im not a detective! I know what you do. You hurt the people who hurt you. My name is Damien by the way. I want to be a part of this. I want to help." I looked into his gorgeous eyes and imagined myself running my hand down his chest. I shook the thought. I looked down, then back at him. "Fine."
The next day, I sat on the couch beaded Damien at his apartment. I looked over his shoulder at the newspaper hebwas reading. I caught a glimpse of the headline. 'Local Man Shot' I grabbed the newspaper from him and continued to read. 'Brandon Shaldoon was shot yesterday, yet surprisingly there were no clues. No fingerprints, no fibers. The only thing left was a red lipstick print on the man's cheek. Turn to Page Five for more info' I handed the newspaper back to Damien. "Good Work on Brandon," Damien said with a smirk. I laughed and tosse my red hair. I looked at him, catching his eye. We held the glaze for a moment, when he leaned forward, entering us into a blissful, pationant kiss.