A man coughed blood. His crimson-coloured blood blended with the red carpet in the room turning it dark red.
The weather outside was dull, with dark clouds covering the night sky, shrouding the world beneath, in a blanket of utter darkness. A bright flash of lightning struck, highlighting the lavish decorations of the dimly lit room. Winds started to blow swiftly signalling the arrival of an impending storm. Seconds later, the sky rumbled loudly with the majestic roar of thunder. The rain started to pour heavily, the raindrops crashing heavily against the glass panes disrupting the heavy silence in the room.
The weather was gloomy but the atmosphere in the room was gloomier than the weather outside, thick with the stench of blood and an aura of bloodlust. There, in the middle of the room, stood a tall man with greyish hairs showing his years of maturity and experience, sharp green predator–like eyes, and a beautifully carved face, wearing a tuxedo with hands in his pocket.
His aura was terrifying. Even though he stood casually against a table, he looked no less than a grim reaper.
In front of him was a man kneeling with his head hung low and surrounded by gunned men.
The man kneeling was soaked in blood, covered in numerous bruises and wounds but all this did not hide his devilishly handsome features. Instead, it gave him an otherworldly kind of charm.
It seemed as if he was perfectly carved by god. He had a face which would make women go crazy to get a single glance from him. Although he was kneeling it could be seen he was a tall man, with violet eyes and a perfectly chiselled face. His originally pale white skin was soaked in blood, a part of which was his own. The feeling of Hatred, agony, and a strong desire for revenge swirled in those sharp, mesmerising violet eyes. His beautiful jet-black hairs, as dark as the night itself, were messy. A few strands of his hair covered his eyes while a few stuck to his face were dyed in his blood.
The man slowly tilted his head to look at the man, with disgust flickering in his eyes and his signature smirk on his face, as if challenging and mocking the man who stood tall, even in his weakened state.