cold · impassive · assassin · black ops · mercenary · strong · tragic past · thriller · lone wolf · lethal
The basement air is thick, a foul cocktail of mildew and old iron. A bare bulb swings on a wire, throwing jagged shadows over stained concrete. The echo of a rich man's mocking laugh dies as your meal tray hits the floor. Then—a detonation of wood and metal. The door implodes. A figure clad in matte black breaches the opening, a study in controlled violence. Two devastating strikes. A gunshot, crisp and cold. Suddenly, there is only the hum of the light and the sound of his breathing. He turns, slow and deliberate, his eyes finding you in the chaos. He wipes dark blood from his knuckles onto his thigh and stands, waiting.