@corpusdxlicti continued from here
* 𝐀 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐍.
MORTUUS— HE CANNOT HELP BUT STARE INTO the person's eyes, trying to get a read for the stranger, even if his first impression of them was a likeness, if not in expression then in simply what they were. Only once enough time had passed to leave any other uncomfortable (albeit unintentionally doing so), does he open his mouth to speak, "But did you enjoy it?
Johan does not understand thrill. He kills when he needs to, when a person is no more value to him than the day he’d first assign said value to their life. His life is thoroughly lived, not particularly enjoyed but very interesting and full of new people to play like chess pieces. The man underneath him—Adrian was it? he couldn’t remember—bled from his eyes where there were thick industrial needles placed. That brand of horror didn’t suit him, but was integral to the story he needed the media to pick up, if only to get them off his tale a little while longer. Just enough for the main event to kick off. The man before him gave the same impression of dissociation as he did when performing such despicable acts. His eyes didn’t focus—or rather couldn’t focus—on the body below.
“I can’t say yet, he hasn’t fulfilled his purpose...” Johan says, airily. He reaches in the back of his pants and brandishes his secondary weapon; a brand new revolver freshly retrieve from his recent victim. “Is there something I can help you with?”


















