Hello there. My name is Tyler Kingsley. Whether that’s my real name or just one of my many aliases you might never know. I’m one of the most dangerous men you will ever meet and to many I am just a legend. In the Taliban I am called The Shadow. In the US I am called the White Ghost. I am a hitman. I get hired to take out corrupt officials, cartel leaders, terrorists, and if the money’s right, even some innocent citizens. You may say to yourself why I became a hitman, well here is a little background knowledge about me. I am a 29 year old male. I was bullied from elementary school to high school until I dropped out. You’re now probably telling yourself right now that you know the logic behind my profession, that I became a hitman because I take my anger out by killing people and that behind my steel grey eyes, I am more soft hearted than you think. Well you’re wrong. There is much I would fill you in on about my past, but I can’t for you may identify me and find me. But lets start from the present day. I train my binoculars on the open hotel window across the street, where a former US ambassador is now stay. He was held in court for treason and supplying highly classified information to the enemy but they could never quite link him to this crime, and as my profession goes I am obviously here to kill him. An anonymous source has paid 30,000 dollars in cash for the killing of this man. “Shadow. Subject confirmed and in position. Take the shot.” A static sounding voice comes over my radio. “Confirmed.” I reply into the mouthpiece. I put on my latex gloves and grab my .308 Custom Sniper Rifle. Its fitted with a silencer and a Zeiss Conquest scope on it and I train the crosshairs on his neck. Slowly squeezing the trigger and breathing evenly I take 3 shots, shooting them evenly into his neck. The ambassador falls backwards and lies in a pool of his own blood. “Target confirmed and killed.” I whisper back into the microphone. I pick up my spent .308 shells, take the barrel off of the rifle and shove them into my backpack and leave the hotel room. I run down the stairs to my car and drive away. I disappear into the distance with the exhilarating feeling of a kill still in my head. Every time I get better. Every single time.Hello there. My name is Tyler Kingsley. Whether that’s my real name or just one of my many aliases you might never know. I’m one of the most dangerous men you will ever meet and to many I am just a legend. In the Taliban I am called The Shadow. In the US I am called the White Ghost. I am a hitman. I get hired to take out corrupt officials, cartel leaders, terrorists, and if the money’s right, even some innocent citizens. You may say to yourself why I became a hitman, well here is a little background knowledge about me. I am a 29 year old male. I was bullied from elementary school to high school until I dropped out. You’re now probably telling yourself right now that you know the logic behind my profession, that I became a hitman because I take my anger out by killing people and that behind my steel grey eyes, I am more soft hearted than you think. Well you’re wrong. There is much I would fill you in on about my past, but I can’t for you may identify me and find me. But lets start from the present day. I train my binoculars on the open hotel window across the street, where a former US ambassador is now stay. He was held in court for treason and supplying highly classified information to the enemy but they could never quite link him to this crime, and as my profession goes I am obviously here to kill him. An anonymous source has paid 30,000 dollars in cash for the killing of this man. “Shadow. Subject confirmed and in position. Take the shot.” A static sounding voice comes over my radio. “Confirmed.” I reply into the mouthpiece. I put on my latex gloves and grab my .308 Custom Sniper Rifle. Its fitted with a silencer and a Zeiss Conquest scope on it and I train the crosshairs on his neck. Slowly squeezing the trigger and breathing evenly I take 3 shots, shooting them evenly into his neck. The ambassador falls backwards and lies in a pool of his own blood. “Target confirmed and killed.” I whisper back into the microphone. I pick up my spent .308 shells, take the barrel off of the rifle and shove them into my backpack and leave the hotel room. I run down the stairs to my car and drive away. I disappear into the distance with the exhilarating feeling of a kill still in my head. Every time I get better. Every single time.
Look, I don’t like my job but someone has to do it you know... I pull into the driveway a normal looking family house and grab my backpack. “I’m Shadow I’m here to drop off a present.” I say as a family walks by on the sidewalk. I scan my finger on the biometric 700 PPI fingerprint scanner. The doors fold open and I walk in. I carefully toss the backpack on the table. I walk over to the next room and sit down in a posh office. “Your next assignment is the leader of the Zetas cartel leader. Source is anonymous, the pay for this job is 55,000 dollars to an untraceable Swiss bank account. You’ll be using a Beretta 92FS 9mm with a 158 mm long silencer. The job is exactly 2 weeks from now. Any questions?” The man asked. “None at all.” I responded. He hands me the sleek black Beretta and I leave the room. “Good luck!” He calls after me as I leave the house. I hop into my BMW i8 and gun the engine heading toward my Malibu home. I cruise up to the gate of my and quickly type in the 7 digit code. The gate opens up and I pull into my garage, lock the car and enter my house. “Ahhhh.” I sigh as I plop down onto the couch. Pulling out my phone I turn music on through the speakers all over my house. You see my job pays a lot therefore I can afford many luxuries such as my 1,300,000 dollar house as well as my amazing security system. I have a wall to wall glass wall that leads to my Infiniti Edge pool with a view onto the ocean. My security cameras keep every part of the property covered and when an intruder is spotted with the facial recognition cameras it sounds an alarm which usually scares them away, if they manage to get over the 15 foot high electric fence. I heat up some leftover pizza in my fridge and then fall sound asleep on the couch with the TV still on. It’s been a long day and sleep is bliss.
You’re probably thinking, “Doesn’t this guy have a cover story, any friends, animals, neighbors? How come they haven’t found out about him?” Well just be patient I’m getting to that part. So my best friend in the world is named Daniel Bader. He like me is a hitman. Top notch he taught me everything there is to know about this line of work. He is 34 years old. Now to my cover story, I pose as a business consultant which gives me a lot of reasons to travel to places like Dubai, Chicago, Hong Kong, Middle East, Arabia etc. I also have 1 pet. His name is Henry. He is a white Gyrafalcon and I take him wherever I go. He loves to fly around cities and is trained to always come back to me. I have a whistle just in case he ever gets lost. And if you’re wondering why they never have found me the answer is... I cover my tracks well. I put together the bullets myself and have a person buy the equipment who gives it to another person who gives it to me.. I also pick up my casings after I shoot so there isn’t any evidence. You see that’s why I’m considered a legend to many people. I’m untraceable and like the name suggests like a ghost. Squeal on me and you’ll be next even if they don’t believe your story. I’m invisible.
