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Assassin - creative writing.

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ASSASSIN CRASH! BANG! The lightening usurped the sky as the rain crashed down. Traffic was building on the roads; you could hear the odd car horn beeping or a driver sticking their head out of a window and yelling. People who'd just finished work, or just happened to be there, were dashing around trying to find their way home on this dreary night. One individual chose to take his time in walking only side stepping occasionally to avoid puddles. By his posture, he seemed unaffected by the weather. He strolled along; the light coming from the glimmering streetlights outlined his sharp features. He was dressed from head to toe in black, camouflaging himself into his surroundings. To the average human eye he looked like the everyday man, but he wasn't. ...read more.


The assassin crept towards the rotting door, which was only held on by one hinge. He opened it slowly releasing a loud creak. The door thudded behind him once he stepped in. He made his way up the stairs, taking every step cautiously. He arrived at the room right at the top, where he started opening the briefcase, beside the window. He carefully assembled his gun, making sure everything was set up perfectly. Once he was completely finished, every detail in place, he looked for his target. He aimed at the door. The door of the grand looking house opposite, the kind built for a wealthy family. As his eyes narrowed, they were no longer focused on his target. He blinked once, twice, three times, but the same image stayed in front of his eyes. ...read more.


Externally, there was no flicker or signs of the emotions he felt. Slowly he pulled the trigger and released a bullet aiming in right at the hit 1...2...3. The bullets hit her straight in the chest. As planned, she fell to the floor, blood pouring out of her wound, accompanied by a chorus or screams and shouts from the people around. The assassin sat and watched for a few minutes, as if he enjoyed the pain he had caused, people were rushing around in a panic. From the distance came police sirens. This was the signal that it was time to leave. He packed up with the pleasure of knowing his job had been done. Silently, he sneaked down the stairs carrying his weapons briefcase; his day's work was fulfilled. He went out the back door, where the same black Ford was waiting, he looked back once more, before smiling an evil grin and sliding into the car. ?? ?? ?? ?? ...read more.

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