George sprinted across the concrete rooftop, the moonlight casting shadows across his tense features. His legs burned with exhaustion but he kept going, fueled by the thought of his rival, Dream, getting to the target first.
Their rivalry was a legend in the underworld, and it had been going on for years. It all started in Rio, where George had to kill an arms dealer who had been causing quite the stir. But just as George was about to snipe him, that blonde prick swooped in and snatched the target away. And ever since, they had been at each other's throats.
George's breath was a ghostly cloud as he hopped from rooftop to rooftop, the chilly wind air kissing the tip of his nose.
He glanced up, peering over at the opposite rooftop, noticing the shadow following not far behind. His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed as he slung himself into a emergency stair case outside of a run-down apartment building.
The feel of his body hitting the cold metal sent a chill up George's body, the sudden impact making him grimace. He stood up, his hand on his sleek, black gun as he hurried down the stairs, the sound like a bullet in the silent night.
He had just gotten to the alleyway when he heard loud thuds on the stairs behind him. Damn it. George gritted his teeth as he continued down the narrow alleyway.
The smell of garbage and alcohol was a scent George had become rather uncomfortably familiar with. But it was New York, what could you do? As he ran, the faint outline of his target just ahead made his efforts double.
As he neared the target, he pulled out his gun and cocked it, the taste of victory on the tip of his tongue, a sweet taste that only fueled his determination.
But as he aimed it, hands grabbed him and carelessly slammed him into the side of the dumpster. He looked up to see that damn man hunter.
"Dream!" George scowled, his eyes looking at the escaping target. He looked back at the blonde who was now taking off for the target.
He stood up, brushing himself off and dashing after the two. His victory was now at stake and his feeling of triumph had now morphed into a fiery hatred.
The exit of the alleyway was just on the horizon, their time to restrain the target closing. George ran and saw a pair of stairs leading up to a rooftop. A plan began to form.
Despite his exhaustion, he managed to get to the top, leaping from building to building until he was above Dream. He grabbed onto a wire and slung himself onto a window sill and then jumped onto Dream, taking both of them down.
Dream groaned, feeling the sudden weight of George's body on top of him. "You fucker! He's getting away! " he exclaimed, landing a solid kick to George's chest.
George balled up his fist and punched Dream's jaw, earning a pained grunt from the other man. That of course started a brawl between the two, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing through the alleyway as they exchanged blows.
George panted, blood dripping from his nose, a bitter copper taste in his mouth. Dream leaned against the wall, his eyes burning a hole into George as he wiped the blood from his lip.
"You idiot! " George yelled in frustration, "he got away! "
"Because of you! " Dream exclaimed back.
George let out an annoyed groan, kicking over a trash can in his anger. "Damn it! "
"Real mature, having a tantrum is a great look for an assassin," Dream commented, rolling his bloodshot eyes.
"Oh shut it, " George spat out, turning to glare back at Dream.
George looked at Dream and his stupid, punchable face. He wished he could just shot him now. But that would be a declaration of war against their agencies.
George let out a huff and stormed out of the alleyway, his fists clenched into a tight balls as he caught his breath. He had to be quick, patch himself up and find the target again before that dickhead did.
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Hi! I'm a new writer and enjoy writing for fun, I hope you enjoy my story. Remember to drink water and get some sleep my lovelies <3
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Intertwining Bullets
FanfictionDream is a man hunter who needs the target alive. George is an assassin who needs the target dead.