He was bathed in blood… Blood of the sun that is, a radiant ever glowing light that had been murdered and put down by it's rival the moon. The blood stained his clothing, and face, even entangling blood red rays with the likes of fiery hair, it ran over pale fingertips even soaking into the nightshade colored couch beneath him. He was alone, and the room was empty of all life save his own. Darkened with no lamps except for the large picture window, draped with deep purple velvets, and obsidian trimmed window treatments. The floor was made of dark hardwood, and everything in the room was shrouded in blacks, and darker shades of color's nearing black, but no gray outlined the room… It was perfect, and silent and the assassin could watch the sun die one final time without the pain of having to rise again with it.

"I am not immortal." He murmured, looking away from the sun, pushing himself up with shaking forearms, finding his own weight unbearable, he had become to heavy for his liking no matter how much his rib cage showed it was to much to handle, and it hurt to move…"And that is the only thing I'd thank any God for." The assassin looked back up over at the picture window, eyeing it will dull vacant eyes, his soul had left long ago , and now there was only this single will breathing within…. It was shattering everything, he had simply lost it all…Except the blade. Blazing emerald gem's roved over to the black sheathed katana several feet away. It sat along the hard wood desk of the borrowed room, fitting in perfectly, so perfectly Thilacine almost forgot it was there…. But that weapon wasn't what he wanted… It held the story of an assassin, a hybrid who killed so many people for corrupted reasons… It stood there in this room so perfectly only because it could be bathed to in blood…And it seemed wrong to move it no…ether where other means of escape…He looked over his shoulder, brushing away strands of fire red hair that had been set aglow by light….He glanced at the heavy oak wood door at his back, the polished brass knob, with it's heavy chain lock intact…There where other ways about opening the door to freedom besides the lock, and key. "There are other ways out…" The assassin breathed shifting fluidly in his seat right hand subconsciously taking out a small silver, and brass box from the heavy leather pocket.

He opened it slowly listening to the small creaking sounds that box made, disrupting the silence, eyeing the small azure pill's inside. Thilacine's eyed them. "You had been my lock." He breathed emptying the pills into the palm of an extended hand, soon looking back at the katana. "And you had been my key." It had just been that way… He had locked himself into the mess with the drugs but he had gotten himself into it with the grasping of a sword. "But you won't get me out." The hybrid smiled a bit slipping the pills into his mouth swallowing them hard. It made him sick, eight or so high medicating pills would surely make an end… But now it was a game against time…No backing out now, he laughed faintly looking at the floor, holding his shoulder's roughly, before standing up to roam about the room. The floor hissed curses as the assassin tread, and his mood was dimmed soon, until he maneuvered himself to the desk where his katana lay. Pale fingertips touched the cold iron…It was so tempting to use that blade, but he had to make him see it as a weapon unavailable for anything but murder. "You are a tool for murder," he began closing his eyes so that his mind could roam the dark in there, watching as the blood streaked light seeped through his lid's forcing them to re-open. "And I am to find a tool for my tourniquet." With that last breath of word's the assassin jerked open the drawer beneath where the blade rested, looking to find what was necessary to imitate the sun…It was a small well placed knife atop a stack of crème colored paper, close to a bottle of scarlet ink, and a deep raven quill…. But the knife it's self was the beauty of the situation. It had a long steel blade that gleamed a wicked crimson in the bleeding sun light, and the hilt was made from cheery wood, polished with a perfect shine. It was decorated with silver, shaping the carvings of a long demonic looking dragon. Maybe in the past this blade had been used to opening letter's to the person who had inhabited it before….That particular man had been put to death a while ago…Thilacine had gotten rid of his corpse since though, hiding it wherever he could…Of course it had been to large to hide in one place, but dismemberment was nothing to a murder…He shuddered deeply. Nothing at all.
Thilacine picked up the knife turning away from the desk, shuddering… He could already feel the eight pills taking very little effect, because the world had began to get a bit out of track. "Damn." The hybrid growled walking with heavy steps back towards the couch, sitting on the deep, dark fabric heavily looking back out at the sun set… It to had begun to fade under the pressure of an impending moon's army. "That's it now… Push the blood away with darkness.." He whispered smiling again faintly taking up the knife in his hand holding his wrist steady. "Would you mind darkness if I come along for the ride as well?" He poised the knife at the flesh of his wrist drawing it steadily upward eyeing it as blood spilt forth. The murderer winced as he did thing, the hand of his hurt wrist balling up feeling blood quickly seep through his finger's he poised the blade in his right hand again so that the tip touched his wrist again. Thilacine brought the hilt up to his teeth, after flicking the joint so that the knife stabbed deep into his flesh, using his teeth afterwards to draw the knife up…His left hand was far to busy shaking, and signaling pain to be of any use, and now with the same sort of pain, and blood dripping forth from hot wounds on the right, the assassin had nothing left to do besides drop the blade, to the hard wood floor below, leaning his body back on the couch.
The fabric soon lost the light's bloodied luster being replaced quickly with flowing scarlet's and crimson's as Thilacine's eye's soon half shut looking as the darkness swallowed the sun in hatred… Funny, he thought as the drug's made his brain work a bit more before diluting them with sleep, and pain. Because for all his hatred he didn't have a single person on a long, long list of acquaintances who'd miss him…. So with that the long since overdue dead assassin, gave himself up like the sun, he buried himself in blood, and hate…