‘Okay, mate. I dare you to,’ he paused smirking jerkly at the hated, and dark agent, strapped to a chair. The agent shook himself, a uncomfortable shiver ran down his spine.
His brown eyes glared at the lunatic dressed like a gentlemen. The agent couldn’t blink, he was afraid of what would happen if he blinked. But still slowly his eyes blinked themselves rapidly.
The daredevil had a name, Septimus Melvon was his name. But he was known as the The Lunatic.
Septimus’s eyes narrowed, his smirk has not disappeared. His villainous appearance, took horror and struck it onto the criminals or killers hearts.
‘I dare you to stay still.’ He sneered, almost sounding like a child. The agent scrunched his face. There was a long, and uncomfortable silence that looked like they were eye-killing eachother.
Finally the agent spoke, with his voice full of fear, and deep heartfelt hatred, ‘ Why?’
Before Septimus Melvon could hear him, he toke out a knife, faster then lightspeed. Septimus’s eyes filled was curiousness and determination.
The agent gasped, ‘please don’t.’
Septimus laugh gently, ‘sorry, mate. Let me make it quick.’
Abruptly Septimus stabbed the knife, hardly into the agent’s bloody chest.
The knife was cold, it was like someone was trying to carve his heart out.
The agent groaned in unforgettable pain. His face was emotionless. But in his eyes were full of no regrets.
Septimus released the knife, and went to exit, before he did, he mumbled something gently under his breathes.
‘Just remenber. Always pick dare instead of truth.’ He winked gentlemenly.
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