Berlin Night Character Bridgeman

The black leather belt is fastened tightly around his waist forming small red lines across his skin. He runs his hand gently over the neatly manicured hair beneath his hat, pulling the rim slightly forward and running his fingers across the bridge of the silver bellied smooth felt hat.
Contemplating life whilst starring vividly at the tiny lights flickering against the thick blanket of black that forms a distinct frame around the fluorescent city, he awaits silently the next victim.
It is Tuesday February 14th and the night is seemingly blacker and the air more bitter and colder than ever. Baldur Augusta, a man taunted by his past and tainted by his bitter existence is absorbed by the irrational behaviours of the wind as he stalks the 325m cable-stayed bridge during the early hours of the morning.
Suddenly his eyes fasten on an object far in the distance. Squinting intensely forcing deep crevices across his face a bead of sweat drips from his thick grey brow and onto the timber slats beneath him staining the spot where it landed. His heart pounding deep in his chest quickly making its way up through his body and into his head where it becomes so intense he closes his eyes in attempt to calm the demon within.
Taking several deep husky breaths, he exhales, flem catching in his throat sending him into an intense coughing fit. The piercing noise projecting an echo of deep barks across the still black water. Swiftly his attention turned towards the lack of oxygen reaching his near compressed lungs. Bashing his fits fiercely against his chest as he gasps for air. Blood quickly rushes to his head forcing deep blue veins to surface near his temples before excreting a sticky substance deep from his chest and into a tissue held tightly against his lips. Looking down at the secretion he observes the white tissue speckled with blood.
“I’m not angry with you, I’m angry with the woman back there” His attention is quickly stolen back by the faint sound of voices coming from deep within the darkness.
“I’m sorry, I just don’t understand. Please! What do you want from me?”
”There is nothing that you can do, just look straight ahead, just concentrate”
Reaching for his belt he grasps the cold steel cylinder by the throat, sliding it out from its leather casing. Searching towards the sounds he flicks the trigger spitting light across the room and blinding him as it reflects off the muddy window. Rubbing his eyes with the knuckle of his finger he blinks a few times before adjusting to the sudden influx of light. Peering through the thick build up of grime he desperately scans the seemingly empty space and across the path his eyes falling over the steel cables and fastening on an object, relatively small… no bigger than his Amalie, floating peacefully against the gentle current.