“Hey, over here Don.” He caught James’ voice coming from behind, followed by a thick sigh. Don turned to the end of the alley, there, James was crouched down in his evening tuxedo, eyeing a corpse with a head sized hole in its chest. No hint of blood, not even the slightest of foul stenches, just a man with his back to the grey alley wall, eyes still open, his mouth wide, as the moonlight shined onto their faces.
“What in the hell got to this one?” Don asked, lifting a cigarette to his mouth as he spat his last to the cracked concrete, slipping a lighter out of his white coat pocket along with it. Their taste was dry and brought him to gag many a time, no doubt he had to stop going through so many. Still he couldn’t help but flick on his lighter for and bring it to the cigarette tip yet another time, especially as his eyes settled on the dead body before him.