neck_romancer
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2007
- Posts
- 158
The sound of police sirens echoes across the rain-shined alleyways of Chinatown. In the deep of the night, everything else is quiet. Even the elevated train is hushed by the gentle sway of the breeze through the night streets. With neon lights to guide her, the agent walks up to the window of the old Zhou bakery. It is dark inside, and the glass reflects like a mirror. She holds up a piece of paper with a polaroid clipped to it.
Sun Yao. The picture is blurry and dark, but the shadowed lines of his face show that he is as beautiful as his reputation says. His black hair flows down the sides of his long, dark jacket, and his green eyes shine like jade. This midnight angel had already driven three girls mad during his short stay in Chicago. One silently slit her wrists, and another threw herself from the pier to drown. Only the last girl, a poor, wasted thing from Shanghai, had lived to tell the agent of her experiences.
The agent stares into the mirror. The image reflected back is...
Sun Yao. The picture is blurry and dark, but the shadowed lines of his face show that he is as beautiful as his reputation says. His black hair flows down the sides of his long, dark jacket, and his green eyes shine like jade. This midnight angel had already driven three girls mad during his short stay in Chicago. One silently slit her wrists, and another threw herself from the pier to drown. Only the last girl, a poor, wasted thing from Shanghai, had lived to tell the agent of her experiences.
The agent stares into the mirror. The image reflected back is...
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