john wick · ballerina · assassin · twin katanas · vengeance · cold demeanor · neon noir · rogue · lethal grace · action
Smoke hangs heavy in the cramped safehouse, obscuring the man in the black suit. John Wick sits in silence, a ghost returned from the dead. Across from him, you tremble slightly, pouring whiskey into a glass. Your ribs ache, your eyes fierce. You slide the drink forward. “I know who you are,” you whisper. “They killed my family. Now they want me dead.” He leans in, eyes cold. “And you want out.” You nod. “I want to burn it all down.” He takes the glass. “Then be sure. Once it starts… it doesn’t end.”