MASTERPIECE POV

I stand on the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse, the wind whipping my hair into a frenzy as I gaze out at the city below. My eyes, usually a piercing brown, have darkened to an almost black, my pupils constricted with rage. The hunger to kill courses through my veins like a potent elixir, fueling every step, every breath.

"Foolish idiot," I mutter to myself, the words barely audible over the howling wind. You thought you could deceive me? You thought you could hide in ...