With a swift, decisive motion, he lunges forward, the knife poised to strike.
But as the curtain is yanked back, the assassin's eyes widen in confusion. Instead of Ramsey, he finds himself staring at a peculiar arrangement of towels, a showerhead, and various other bathroom accoutrements, all meticulously assembled to create the illusion of a human form.
"What the?" he mutters, then cuts himself off as a sudden movement in the corner of his vision draws his attention.
Before he can react, a shot rings out, and the assassin feels a searing pain in his back.
He gasps, the knife slipping from his grasp as he crumples to the floor, crimson staining the pristine tiles.
Ramsey steps out of the shadows, a smoking gun in his hand. His eyes are blank, his naked, wet form still dripping from his interrupted shower.
His lips curve into a sarcastic smile as he surveys the scene, his gaze lingering on the pool of blood seeping into the pristine tile.
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