THE ASSASSIN
The rain was pelting down on the village of Woodham. Some villagers had regarded it as the worst downpour they had ever encountered. But now most villagers are snuggled cozily in there beds.
It was late, very late, around 1:00am. Yet still someone is awake outside a shadowed figure, tall, just lying there in the long grass. The wind was blowing quite heavily, nearly up rooting the surrounding trees. It's not a constant wind just gusts pumping over the village making the grass dance. It was only when these gusts of wind occur that a glimpse of the figure in the grass could be seen. Just lying there, not an inch of movement, still, silent.
The closer, the more obvious it becomes that it is the unmistakable figure of Mr Green the village butcher, a very well known and respected member of the village. But something's wrong he normally has a cheerful, friendly expression on his face but he looks anxious and has a cold look in his eyes. He's waiting, waiting for something, someone.
The sound of an engine roaring in the distance disturbed him. The trees around him glow as the car skidded around the corner shining its headlights. Coolly and calmly Mr Green tilted his head towards the muddy, potholed road. The shine of a brand new Lotus Esprite V8 zoomed past splashing through the waterlogged road and turning into no 1.
The rain was pelting down on the village of Woodham. Some villagers had regarded it as the worst downpour they had ever encountered. But now most villagers are snuggled cozily in there beds.
It was late, very late, around 1:00am. Yet still someone is awake outside a shadowed figure, tall, just lying there in the long grass. The wind was blowing quite heavily, nearly up rooting the surrounding trees. It's not a constant wind just gusts pumping over the village making the grass dance. It was only when these gusts of wind occur that a glimpse of the figure in the grass could be seen. Just lying there, not an inch of movement, still, silent.
The closer, the more obvious it becomes that it is the unmistakable figure of Mr Green the village butcher, a very well known and respected member of the village. But something's wrong he normally has a cheerful, friendly expression on his face but he looks anxious and has a cold look in his eyes. He's waiting, waiting for something, someone.
The sound of an engine roaring in the distance disturbed him. The trees around him glow as the car skidded around the corner shining its headlights. Coolly and calmly Mr Green tilted his head towards the muddy, potholed road. The shine of a brand new Lotus Esprite V8 zoomed past splashing through the waterlogged road and turning into no 1.
