I got really bored while trying to figure out what to do for the next chapter of Black and White, so I decided to write a really short and somewhat depressing story. Sorry about the weird title; I couldn't think of anything.
Summary: A woman has been ordered to kill a man. For some reason, she can't bring herself to kill him.
Unable
A woman enters a dim room alone. A man with a black mask waits until she closes the door behind her.
"This is your chance to make a name for yourself. Don't screw up," the man says. The woman nods, and he continues, "The order from the boss is to kill the 10th Cavallone boss."
He hands her a picture and she leaves the room. In her room, as she packs, she takes a glance at the picture. He looks a lot like him, but I saw him get shot many years ago, she thinks to herself. Shaking off the thought, she prepares to kill the man in the picture.
Meanwhile, the man in the picture prepares to go to sleep. After a long day of paperwork, he would like nothing more than to simply sleep. Yet, he can't throw off the feeling of danger in his gut. Intuition can be a pain at times, he muses as he turns in his bed, trying to get into a comfortable position. Outside his open window, a woman is standing with a poisoned dagger.
She easily enters his room, and raises the dagger. The man turns to face her, and his eyes spring open. He lets out a yell, and she drops the dagger. She sinks to her knees.
"So you were alive after all, Dino," she says, tears of relief streaming down her face.
The door slams open and a group of men prepare to fire at her.
"Wait! Don't shoot," commands the man known as Dino. He looks carefully at the woman. "By any chance, are you-"
His sentence is cut off by a laugh from the woman's earpiece.
"Hahaha. It looks like you have failed. We can't have any information leaking out, so I guess this is good-bye. By the way, you were right, he was alive, even after that gunshot, and he's standing right in front of you. Too bad you're going to die from the poison that was just released into your system," cackles the voice.
The woman collapses. Her eyes close, never to open again.
That was a pretty depressing story. I just needed to practice writing from a third person's point of view. The woman's looks, past, and name are completely up to the readers.