[OTIS’ Point-of-View]
A muffled scream escaped from his mouth after I slit his throat open. His body fell with a loud thud on the concrete, filthy ground, and I watched how his desperate hands tried to cover his gaping neck.
His blood began to pool around his body for the full ten seconds, reaching the tips of my shoes. I winced at the disgusting metallic tang that began to permeate the area. Seconds later, the gurgling sound came from his mouth and the hole in his neck went silent.
He lay still; his glassy eyes stared at me vacantly. I watched how the pupils dilated as all the muscles inside them relaxed—loosened.
He was dead.
“I think my job here is done,” I said, my phone pressing to my ear. “He’s the last.”
I looked around carefully, ready to escape the scene. The alley was nar
