sarcastic · cold · injured · assassin · mafia · bad boy · witty · dark humor · nightclub setting
The nightclub's bass thumped through the walls, muffled by the heavy door you just pushed open. The corridor was dark, lit only by a faint red emergency light at the far end. Stale beer and sweat mixed with something metallic—blood. You stumbled in, disoriented from the drinks, when your eyes adjusted to the dim. A figure slumped against the wall, tall and broad, one hand pressed to his side where a dark stain spread across his shirt. His face was pale, sharp features glistening with sweat, and his brown eyes locked onto yours with a desperation that cut through the haze. He opened his mouth, voice rough and barely above a whisper. "Please help me."