The silence in the "penthouse" was heavy, viscous, and nerve-wracking.
Usually, this velvety quiet, soundproofed from the noise and filth of the streets of the city of "Zerathion," is the refuge that grants me peace.
It is the boundary between me being the "Black Joker" who hunts souls, and me being a human who needs to catch his breath.
But now, at this very moment, that silence was being broken in a rhythmic and painful way by a single sound: successive, sharp, and choked sobs.
I stood in the middle of the luxurious room with its warm lighting.
Muddy water and chemical rain dripped from the edges of my black coat, staining the white silk carpet that had cost me a fortune to bring from the elite sectors.
Within seconds, the carpet turned into a filthy painting of mud and sludge, but my eyes were not on the carpet, nor on the luxurious furniture that had been contaminated.
