Level: Easy
Are you scared?...
Alias: Screech
R.N: Tyson
Age: 35
Affiliation: Sniper Mercenary
It was a Wednesday evening, around 1500 o'clock. However, it was dark. As 'Screech' awaited for his target to come into view...
Peering into the scope, he watched along the roads... from time to time, taking sips from the coffee that sat next to him...
He checked his watch. It was 1600 o'clock
It was 5 o'clock a few minutes ago... tsk.. the watch is dead again...
He shrugged the thought off, peering through the scope as he focused onto the street.
And just in time, the target came into view, wearing a white shirt with striped patterns. His left hand in the pockets and in the other; he held the plastic bag, possibly containing food material; with a bored expression on his face.
"Easy money..."
Tyson said, grinning to himself as he placed his index finger onto the trigger, wrapping four fingers along the grip; he steadied his breathing; narrowed his eyes; focused onto the target... before pulling the trigger.
"BANG"
The bullet sailed through the air.
The sniper grinned to himself, expecting the target to be blown into pieces by now...
His weapon was destroyed instantaneously, with a small explosion.
He tumbled back, coughing and spluttering.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" He yelled, wiping the blood off his forehead as it trailed down.
In a daze, the Assassin scrambled down the staircase.
Once he was in the alley, he staggered, immense pain from either side of his waist.
His shoulder blades were starting to hurt as he covered his wound on the left hand
"How the fuck..." he whispered to himself, reaching into the street lights and almost to the crowd.
Once he was almost out of the alley...
He heard a laugh.
From...
Behind...
Him...
YOU ARE READING
I'm not afraid
HorrorAre you now? Then i dare you to read these short stories... don't fail me.