STOLEN Chapter 3-5
Zakri felt the warmth seeping out of him. His throat filled to the brim, leaking through his mouth. He tried to breath but felt no pressure from his chest. He looked down with his last bit of strength and watched, in horror, his heart, beating and alive, exits his chest.
Zakri's body limped and his vision disappeared. His mouth gaped, unable to finish his sentence. He dangles in the air, hanged by the edge of Mr Drood's red smeared hand.
The man's bulging hand popped veins. Mr Drood cringed. He pulled back, lifting Zakri's dead body with him and threw far into the air.
He inhaled deep and the bulging muscles changed back into its flabby form. His eyes locked to Zakri's fleeting body as it arc the sky. A beating heart, healthy and filled with blood, throbs in his hand. Zakri landed on the tarmac like a ragged doll which made Mr Drood grinned. He resets his top hat with his clean hand. "Job's done. Time to go." he said. The air around him rippled and slowly, he began to disappear.
Tuah watched from the mouth of the staircase when Mr Drood flings Zakri's body halfway down the road. He took out a small camera like device and points it towards the disappearing Drood, letting the camera cracking with the clicking sound of shutters closing and opening.
He frowned and looked at the camera like device, gripping it tight. He looked to Zakri whose dead body lying on the tarmac in its own pool of blood and make his way towards him.
Tuah knelt with one arm on his knee. He looked down, sad at the surprised face of the dead man. He closed his eyes and sighed. He placed his hand on Zakri's forehead trying to close his eyes, but instead his frown deepened. Something felt different. A little warmth still lingers inside his head. Tuah looked to Zakri.