The Assassin
The rain was pouring down on me and what sun that had been around earlier had disappeared into the fading black sky. I had been waiting all night long, ready and undisturbed, only alerted by the occasional, single noise. The time was drawing nearer. Then, suddenly, I saw a car in the distance. As it pulled closer I could see a silhouette of a man in the front driver’s seat. It began to slow down and for a moment I thought it was going to stop. My victim was scheduled for death and I never miss a deadline.
Fortunately, as I hid behind a single oak tree, ferns covering my back, I had a view shot of the house. The windows were broken and ransacked but I could still see through what appeared to be a bedroom window. It showed an unkempt house. The bed wasn’t made, CD’s were thrown all over the floor and the wallpaper appeared to be hanging on by a thread. The outside of the house appeared to have once been painted white, and matched the bedraggled interior. Warped, deformed bricks were hanging out of place and some parts of the wall had collapsed to leave motionless piles of nothing. The rain now began to get heavier and the sky turned a darker shade of grey. I felt uncomfortable, but that was natural with death.
