The surroundings of the house seemed even more repulsive. From the grubby hillside, a row of discarded, derelict houses could be seen, linked by a single row of mud, with a depressing church towering over the houses at the back of the street. Several windows had been shattered and boarded up, with most families running off in fear of their lives. Suddenly, a scream could be heard above the hammering rain and droning wind. A man, who had several cavernous scars on his hands and face, was forcing himself upon this vulnerable young girl. She pleaded and pleaded, but he wouldn’t stop.
Just at that moment, an ancient, diseased car bounced off the road, causing its tyres to screech along the decrepit path. Its engine could be heard rattling in its bonnet and the faded sound of a radio could be heard coming from inside. Its windscreen wipers were distorted and the rust had now replaced the flashy, fluorescent paint that could be scarcely seen underneath this corroding metallic distortion. Suddenly, the engine was switched off and there was silence. It was so quiet he could hear himself breathing. The door then slowly creaked open and a frail, delicate old man emerged from the rubble.
The man found it very difficult to fight against the intensity of the wind in attempt to close the door, which was as rusty as a corroded iron gate. He appeared weak, helpless and feeble. He had thinning grey hair coming down in several strands like numerous snakes moving down his head; he wore thick glasses and walked slightly bent over like a hunchback. He pulled open the back door and clawed out a small pompous poodle dog, his main companion in his lonesome, depressing world. He carried the dog up the furrowed path in his brittle arms, trying to shield it from the severe conditions of Mother Nature. He shuffled through the slimy grime as slowly and as carefully as he could, so as not to slip or fall over, as he was not incredibly sturdy on his feet. His wrinkled hands, which appeared to pave out a map on his clammy palms, clutched hold of the dog for dear life like a child to its mother as he almost tripped over a broken branch on the ground. He began fumbling around in his coat pocket for the keys to the front door, which he then clumsily dropped into a mucky pile of dirt. He slowly put the dog down, bent over to pick his keys up, then suddenly, out of the silent night, bang! His rotten pile of bones slammed against the front door. His last gasp of air crept away as he slid down the door and landed with a thud on the ground, with his soul ripped apart. The dog whimpered helplessly at his owner’s side, while the assassin would be seen smirking in the background.
The assassin could now see blood trickling down the hill at a rapid rate. The assassin had an enormous, wide grin that stretched across his bitter, expressionless face and seemed completely unnerved and unperturbed about his blood-curdling experience. In fact, it seemed that he enjoyed killing innocent old men, that it was a thrill for him, his favourite hobby.
He now skulked off down a dark, mysterious alleyway. No-one had been down this alley since another old man was killed for his money a few weeks ago. The assassin was now joined on the scene by another mysterious figure. This man wore a black cap with skull and crossbones on the front and wore a t-shirt also bearing the same repulsive symbol. He wore jeans that had a mysterious red substance down one of the legs and wore trainers which were caked in mud. He took some money out of the pocket of leather jacket and handed it to the assassin, who pocketed it as quickly as he could, as his hands were frozen from standing out in the pouring wind and howling rain for two whole hours. He now took apart the sniper rifle with the skill of a master craftsman and packed it away safely in a black leather case. He then took the cartridge case, wrapped it in paper and put in the bin, which had all sorts of dead animals in it, such as cats who had eaten the scraps thrown out. He put out his 20th cigarette that he had smoked that night and put that in the bin as well. He now snuck out of the alleyway and made for his black convertible car. He threw his leather suitcase on the back seat, started the ignition and then roared off into the night in a puff of smoke.
