The Assassin

She was on the rooftop, waiting for the kill. The assassin had her assignment, she had her target, she had her victim. Little did she know that the night would not end as she had planned...

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1. The assassin...

Rolling down the window like tears on her cheeks, the rain continued to streak down from the heavens. Darkness enshrouded her as she advanced through the mist towards her target. Mystically dancing around her, the trees swayed in the wind as if trying to tell her to reconsider her decision. She would not. She had a goal and a target; her mission had to be completed.

“Target approaching,” a hollow voice stated from the speaker in her ear.

“Copy that,” she murmured as she lay down on the rooftop, the sleek metal feeling almost warm to her touch. Quickly she checked that her weapon was fully loaded, of course she didn't trust them in supplying adequate weapons for her. She angled the gun at the panel of glass which lay between her and her prey with a single sleek movement. Her task was not a game; it was a mission that her survival depended upon. As long as he lived, her life was in more danger than she ever could have imagined. She had been instructed to eliminate the threat.

Her target waltzed into view. She stealthily locked her weapon into place ensuring that the man’s head was in the centre on her target. Her finger looped around the trigger, tense but not yet pulling. Killing was a choice, her choice; she had made that decision a long time ago. She was not about to change her mind. In her head she counted how many it had been. Forty six. Forty six men and women were dead because she chose to pull the trigger but she had no regrets; life meant nothing to her. In the silence of the night, she counted down the moments until he died.

3…

Sweat ran down her forehead; she was always tense before the kill. Too many variables surrounded murder and assassination as anything could go wrong: targets could move, weapons could fail and shots could miss.

2…

Her heart was pounding. Her instincts were yelling for her to shoot and get the job done but her training forced her to wait for the perfect opportunity. Assassination was an art, an opportunity not to be rushed nor wasted.

1…

Her ears waited to hear the familiar click of a bullet being launched into the night air. Her fingers itched to pull the trigger and add another name to her list, to add another dash on her tally. She took one final breath and closed her eyes for a few moments as she prepared herself to commit murder once again. Her eyes were fixed onto her target as the rest of her surroundings faded into nothing. It was just her and him. It was her and the victim. Was he innocent? No, but did he deserve this? She tried not to think about it. Now was her time to shoot…

She was mere moments away from pulling the trigger. Her choice was made, she didn't have the luxury or time to second guess her actions. She pretended to have a heart of steel but in truth, it was as fragile as glass. She had never wanted a life filled with pain and despair but a series of bad decisions had thrown her into a world of cruelty and suffering. Was she innocent? No, but did she deserve to have this much blood on her hands? No.

She remembered the first time that they gave her a weapon. He had stood behind her and had taught her how to block out all other distractions. He, the man who was now standing on the other side of her gun; her friend, her partner, her love was now her target. He had left the company but worse, he had left her. And With him went every last shred of her humanity, or so she had thought.

Her heavy breathing mystified the cold air around her. She hadn't fired. Why hadn't she fired? Her finger twitched but she had not yet pulled the trigger. She hesitated, considering all of her options before putting her weapon down and sitting on the rooftop with her back to her target. She slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out a faded picture of him which was taken before things went so wrong. For what seemed like an eternity, his chocolate brown eyes stared into hers. Too many memories of love, hate and murder prevented her from completing her task. ‘No loose ends,’ they had told her but she couldn’t bring herself to remove this one. She was emotionally compromised and knew that she had failed her mission.

And so she sat, lost in her thoughts and in herself trying to decide what to do next. Minutes passed but yet there was no solution; she had failed her employer and had let weakness dictate her actions. Ignoring the noises which were lost in the wind, she placed the picture onto the ground and stared up at the sky. She could see everything from where she sat. She could see the entire city. She could see the place where they had shared there first kiss.

But what she didn’t  see was the flickering red dot on her back and the bullet which was flying towards her. The mission was over but not in the way she had expected.

It had been hard for him to kill his friend, his partner, his love but emotions had clouded her judgement and aim. He leapt over from one rooftop to another before leaning down to her limp form and lifting the headset from her face. He had precisely calculated his shot to kill, slowly but painlessly; he still wanted his chance to say goodbye to the woman he once loved. It was too late for her now and they both knew that her end was near. As their eyes met, no words needed to be spoken and yet the tears continued to soundlessly fall.

“The target has been eliminated.”

He had known from the start that she was coming to kill him. The company had told him so because in truth, she was the real target in their operation, not him. She was a loose cannon and had to be dealt with. That was why he left, because of her, because he couldn’t bear to spend more time with her before the betrayal. The company’s plan had worked perfectly. He knew better than to doubt them. 

He carefully picked up her still form for the last time and held her as the life drained from her soul.

“I’m sorry. I did what I had to do to survive…” he told her, holding back a flood of tears.

“So did I...” she whispered as she faded into the night.

Eventually, he walked away, leaving her crippled form on the roof, never looking back. Rolling down the window like the tears on his cheeks, the rain continued to streak down from the heavens but this time, this time he was alone.

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