TRUST - AND ITS COUNTERPART

The package Quinn received had been a simple one. Delivered in the dead of night; It had simply shown up. Nobody around to claim responsibility for its arrival. He reached down to his balcony floor and picked up the large package slowly.

It was heavy, he noted, and felt slick on his hand. A velvety feeling he had come to associate with blood.

He opened the top of the package, slowly so as not to be blindsided by some sort of monster and he peeked inside.

His face contorted into a fierce scowl. He brought his head back up to look around the area, trying to find any movements across the night. Trying to find who had done this.

There was no one.

He looked back into the bag, his brows creased in displeasure and his hands squeezing down on it hard enough to rip it.

From inside the bag, with the shape of a crescent moon carved deep into his bloody forehead. His spy stared back with glassy eyes.

...

"You're leaving?"