Tony Eats |10,769 PCS|

His face, smeared with white makeup, was twisted into an unsettling grin. He wore a neon pink suit, the fabric stretched tight across his muscular frame. But it wasn’t the costume that made people nervous—it was the smell. A pungent, nauseating mix of cannabis and decay clung to him, even as he laughed under his breath.
His hands, stained yellow up to the elbows, dripped with something that was definitely not paint. The eerie, silent laughter echoed around the alley as he approached the dumpster. The body inside—a butchered mess of flesh—was his latest victim. “Ahh… another perfect meal,” Tony chuckled, wiping his yellow-covered fingers across his lips, savoring the taste.
The laughter echoed through the alley, too loud, too manic. “This one had a nice kick,” he muttered to himself. “Spices, blood... mmm…” He reached into the dumpster again, pulling out the remnants of what had once been a man. The yellow stuff on his hands seemed to stick, almost alive, pulsating with an unnatural glow.
Suddenly, Tony froze. His gaze shifted from the body to something in the shadows—eyes. Watching him. He was not alone.