Crimson trail
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Big raindrops fell from the sky, mixing with the thicker liquid already covering the ground. The thick red, mixed with the water from the sky, became a flood of red water, speeding down the alley, and on to the street. Should anyone have been out at that time of the night they shouldn't have been able to see the red stream, because there were no street-lights on, and it was a starless night.
If someone, against all odds, would've seen the red trail on the ground, and followed it into the alley it came from, they would've seen a small shape, lying motionless on the ground, unmoving, dead. Had they gone closer they would've seen the hair was not blood-red, but actually golden, but had been colored with the precious liquid, and had they turned the head of the figure they would've seen that the person's eyes was not entirely closed, and they would've been able to see a dull gold color beneath the eyelashes.
Had they completely turned the body over they would've seen the large hole over the chest of the corpse, and they would've been horrified, not only by the gruesome scene, but also by seeing that it was the corpse of a young boy they had discovered. Should they happen to try and leave the area to alert someone, they would have been stopped by a smirking green-haired teenager, and that teenager would've been the last that person would ever see.
But no one was out that starless night, and first by the morning a military officer, who was out on an early patrol, discovered the crimson trail on the ground. But by then, the body was already moved, and the green-haired teenager was not seen again until he was sent on a new mission, decades later, but still smirking, and still looking exactly like the day he killed the blond boy.
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