740 Uninvited Owner (2)

The front door creaked open, revealing the silhouette of a man swaying on the threshold. The light from the hallway seeped into the apartment, casting an eerie glow around him.

His name was Terrence, Erik's unsuspecting target.

Terrence was a man of considerable stature, standing well over six feet tall.

His broad shoulders strained against the fabric of his expensive suit, a testament to the life he lived as a mercenary, and of the stuff he did to get money.

His hair was a disarray of dark curls, slightly matted with sweat and sticking out in odd directions.

His face, usually handsome with sharp features and a strong jawline, was now flushed and slack with intoxication.

A pair of bleary, bloodshot eyes squinted into the apartment, trying to make sense of the flickering light from the television.

A look of confusion crossed his face as he stumbled further into the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click.