“There are no secrets in life. Just hidden truths that lie beneath the surface.”  ― Dexter Morgan

It takes five seconds, ladies and gentlemen.

Hana...

"I don't belong here..." said a wise inner voice in his head. The voice so filled with nostalgia that one could almost see the memories floating through the blue smoke, memories not only of music and joy and youth, but perhaps of dreams. Henry Lau tethered as he stepped out of the building, on with his winter clothes, into the bitter cold night.

Dhul...

The night was crisp but the air was condense. As if the wise inner voice in his head wasn't done yet, he heard a familiar note. It's the one desolation plays to keep its instrument in tune.

Seht...

He tried adjusting the thick scarf he had donned on his neck. It was rather itchy and didn't do much help in easing the coldness. He looked up once at the nearest street light, which wasn't a street light any more given it would have been more of an adopted shelter for sugary frost than a source of light.

The street was empty. Wind skimmed the void keeping any living things apart and it made Henry, if possible, even colder. Then the sound came. It was quick and urgent. Screeching yet woebegone and heartsore.

Ne...

The light was blinding. He felt a sudden, sweet shot of joy, piercing and distilled as the jolt he imagined heroin users get when the fix hits the veins. Then almost immediately after, the pain and the numbness came. 

The vehicle sped up, as fast as the wet slippery pavement could allow, leaving a certain Mochi in the middle of the street, in the cold, soaking in his own blood.

Daseo...

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Sequel to Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes

Here it is! It's been looong overdue but yeah. I should be forbidden in clicking the start writing button. 

Credits to the owner of the image.