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The Assassin.

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The Assassin. He moved briskly under the dark cloudy sky, quite unaware of the dismal rain which had begun to seep carelessly through his musty sable jacket. The dreary midnight moon peeped out from behind the drifting black blanket which covered the sky. His jagged facial features were highlighted as he hastily proceeded up the high slope. His face was long and pale. His grey staring eyes appeared cruel and motionless in the darkness of the night. He had thick black bags under his eyes as if he had not slept in days. His blue bloodless lips were pierced by sharp fangs, which gnawed ravenously into them. In his thin bony hand, something glinted. It was a gun. He finally stopped at the peek of the hill, the bitter rain beating harshly on his back like razor-sharp needles. In the distance, there was the roar of a car as it sped freely down a lonely road. ...read more.


She turned her head swishing her silky hair behind her as she moved quickly up the steep stone steeps to the front door. She felt the cold chill wrap itself wildly around her neck and through her body. He caught the sweet aroma of her perfume as he crept nearer to her. She heard the sound of the footsteps walking calmly round the corner. She reached for her key. Reaching deep, deep into her bottomless bag. Searching. Quickly now. Quickly. Closer, and closer still. She was scared. She knew he was coming. He was coming for her. She scrabbled with the keys in her hands, terrified now. She frantically placed the key inside the lock. It fitted. She expressed a sigh of relief as she hastily opened the door and slammed it safely shut behind her. Her hands were shaking as she bolted the bolts and locked the locks. She was safe, she was safe. ...read more.


He decided to go out the back of the house, to make sure he wasn't spotted by anyone. He had left the back door ajar for a quick escape. The door remained still like the body on the floor. Leaving nothing behind, he escaped out the door, shutting it firmly behind him. He scrambled up through the brambled bank to the rear of the house. As he did so the thorns scratched him, yet he went on, closer and closer to the houses brick wall. His car was on the other side of it, half hidden in a series of dark bushes. Once over the mossy wall the man began to walk casually over to the car. Overhead fireflies filled up the sky like fairy lights on a Christmas tree. Only the assassin knew what they really stood for. Each light symbolised one of his victims. There must have been at least ten of them hovering above him. The assassin got into his tatty old car, and with one last quick glance at the house, rapidly pulled carelessly onto the deserted road, ready for another night of horror. Sophie Perrin- 10SC. ...read more.

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