When I was a cop, I got punched in the eye one night while wearing hard contact lenses. My eyeball suffered a slight cut that turned it the color of a maraschino cherry.
The injury, while painful, actually worked to my advantage. After the cut healed, my eye remained blood red for a couple of weeks. I put it to good use.
Glaring at suspects through a satanic-looking orb made them visibly uneasy. I was either a werewolf in mid-transition or a cop teetering on the edge of insanity. Cooperation s...
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