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The Assassin.

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The Assassin By Sarah Whyte 10T Small twigs snapped off their branches as they scraped his black, leather suit. The slightest movement disturbed the dry, crunchy leaves that lay beneath. Evening was approaching as the fiery, golden orb slowly began to lose the intensity of its daytime heat when it seared the heavens with its remorseless, blistening rays. Millimetre by Millimetre the blazing dish, now reddened, intensified in colour, slipped ever closer to the horizon, darting its dying rays over a land soon to be enclosed into darkness. Through the gaps in the trees overhead, large, dark clouds loomed in gathering directly above. Then the rain came, light and refreshing and the plants quenched their thirst, but as the light began to cease the rain began to hammer down, pulling leaves and small twigs plummeting to the ground. He lifted his arm effortlessly and felt the back of his neck. ...read more.


A corridor led off both rooms it led into another doorway, which you could barely see the edge of a very worn and tired cooker. There were no other buildings for miles and no one could see the grounds from the main road as a natural hedgerow which grew around the perimeter of the grounds. The house was of a dull grey brick and the low roof slanted un-evenly towards a chipped chimney which hadn't seen smoke for decades. Behind the house stood the remains of a once loved garden, over grown and out of control. Through this tangled mass of plants a shed protruded from the ground, unlike the house the rain highlighted its wooden walls and bounced neatly off its glassed windows but the roof had seen better days and a glance through any hole would have seen a shimmer of gold. ...read more.


She let the keys slip from her grasp; unfortunately the sound they made as they hit the floor disguised a sudden movement in the trees which could have been her only warning. As she stooped low to pick them up aloud explosion echoed around the surrounding area but by this time the women was already dead a well aimed shell had ripped her life from her in an eruption of blood. He had done well. No one would find her for a day or two and then the mangled body would be un-recognizable, they would call it an accident of course, they always do when they have no explanation for an incident. Then without a glance of sympathy he packed away his rifle and returned to his blacked out van. And peeled off the black gloves and hood but as he pulled off his balaclava a stream of long blonde hair fell down revealing her feminine profile. ...read more.

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