"Tsk. Honestly, didn't the boss tell that useless cunt we had monsters to hunt? That's why I wanted to run this solo. That boobs-for-brains bitch is fucking worthless," Mr. Weekend snarled under his breath, shoving his phone into his trouser pocket.
He looked down at the dark pavement. The wet, strangled gurgles beneath his boot had finally cut out into silence.
When he lifted his shoe, a stringy, viscous ribbon of blood stretched from his sole to the mangled, crushed pulp that used to be an old man's face.
His brows knitted into a hard scowl. "Fuck! My white sneakers are totally ruined! Just like my goddamn mood today!" He glared with absolute disgust at the red gore soaking into his shoes. "Whatever... guess I'd better get moving. Black Lily can catch up on the way."
He turned his back, stepping over the fresh corpse in the alleyway without giving it a second thought.
