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    Summary

    The hair on the back of Leon’s neck stands up and he’s whipping around with his gun raised before he’s even conscious of doing so. 

    “Holy shit, don’t shoot!” There’s panic in the unidentified person’s voice. Male. Early twenties. He’s standing across the row of desks, his hands up in a universal ‘holy-shit-don’t-shoot’ gesture. 

    Leon notes a few things about this person. One: he’s holding a gun. Two: he’s wearing tactical gear, the RPD logo across the breast. 

    Three: this stranger has his face. 

    [title from the fit for an autopsy song of the same name]

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    3,157
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
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