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Creative Writing -The cold metal of the revolver made my blood curdle, just one tiny but significant movement, and I could end another human life.

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´╗┐An eerie silence pierced the ice-cold winter?s night. The masses of stars scattered along the horizon illuminated the darkness whilst a spine-chilling breeze was wailing deafeningly like a treacherous wolf. The night was a soul tormented by the devil. In the secluded distance, concealed deep within a forest, I lay listening to trees murmuring in a melodic tune. I felt like a wounded dog howling for its owner, as I glanced up into the glistening sky, my heart filled with grief. An excruciating pain in my left arm was all that kept me conscious and it was an unpleasant reminder of a bullet wound. ...read more.


Another name added to the ever-growing list of people who confronted me on my pursuit to freedom. I lay on the damp soil, breathing inaudibly whilst considering my actions. My decision was confirmed when I glimpsed the gleaming shape of a handgun. From my advanced weaponry knowledge, I realized it was a Beretta 93R, designed in the 1970s; the gun was not very sophisticated but still deadly. I confined my serene thoughts into a corner of my mind, and then I gripped the revolver firmly with my clammy hands and pulled the trigger. The moments that followed were one of the most electrifying in my life; the silhouette stumbled forward and collapsed. ...read more.


I was almost sure that it was an RFID chip, inserted into agents to have a constant report of their whereabouts. The discovery led me to decide to abscond from my camp site in order to evade more agents. I dug a deep hole in the soil and hurled any evidence of my stay along with the deceased remains into its final resting place. Just as I was about to hoist my gun up, I felt a heavy thud at the back of my head. As a gun pointed at the back of my head, I heard a man say ??Do not move?? in a strong Middle-Eastern accent. I was sure this was the end, so I closed my eyes and started to pray. ...read more.

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