As he arrived at the worn gate, he hung the rifle on the gatepost and tried to push up the rusty catch eventually snapping it. He then crept silently along the grass-covered path towards the dark, derelict looking house. The black door was originally red but covered in years of dirt from an obviously careless owner. He pushed open the towering door with ease and entered the house making sure he closed it behind him. He limped into the desolate Victorian kitchen and picked up a newspaper dated the previous year, which he would use later. Even though he knew his plan he went over it one more time in his head. He calmly walked into an uncarpeted hallway, which was in total darkness. He started to walk up the old staircase to wait for his victim, like an eagle swooping for its prey.
He entered the front bedroom and brushed the glass off the bed, using the newspaper. The colour of the wall was a dusty black colour he knew could camouflage him. The room suddenly lit up. The man jumped to the floor away from the window. He later discovered that a car had turned into the driveway The car only had one working headlight. The man stood solidly watching a woman slowly walk up to the front door. She looked tired as tried to shield the rain from her newly tanned skin. She clumsily clambered up the slippery garden path. The man caught a glimpse of her blonde, matted hair, which stood out in front of her white clothes. The car was 1940's Lada estate with no exhaust, a broken door and a smashed window.
Her final few strides led her up the steps to the front door. The man sat on the bed listening to the endless noise of the key opening the lock. As she entered she banged the door behind her, shaking the house. She looked around as if she could sense that somebody was watching her. She started to walk up the spiral staircase, he opened his box and pulled out a shining black rifle. He rapidly but calmly fitted together the complicated design of the gun. The telephone let a high pitch sound which screeched through the empty house echoing round every dark room she hurried down to answer the it but the line was dead. She walked over the dense carpet of the lounge one more time. He steadily put the rifle to his eye waiting for the door to creak open.
The woman stepped into the occupied room the man repeatedly shot her in her head blowing her life away in seconds. Her cold body fell to the floor spraying her surroundings with blood.
The assassin made his escape slowly knowing that there was nobody about for miles. He dismantled his weapon making sure it fitted into his box neatly. He opened the bedroom door using the newspaper he had found earlier. He strolled down the garden path, throwing the newspaper into her car as he passed. The assassin casually stepped into his car and drove off down the winding lane into the darkness.
~2I12I2OOi ~4:49 Created by David Ward