A/N: This was originally written for oneword(dot)com and kind of grew until it became this. If you really want to see the original one (word was "hit"; the original story was in "second-person"), look me up on oneword; I'm hpaddictedg there, too.
This is very steam-of-conscious-ish and centers around Sam Fisher of the awesome video game Splinter Cell.
Number One
Hit or miss - the luxury of a straight shot isn't something that comes about often. Aims his gun and shoots out the lights, because if they see him, he'll die. And that is something that he just can't afford.
And he hides behind the stairs, and the bodies pile up – so many; why aren't they finding them yet?
The thought is driving him mad. And if they find the bodies – he doesn't know what would happen, really. It isn't something that he allows himself to think about, usually, except when it's late at night and he's lying alone on the bed in the hotel room and he can't sleep and the TV in the room next-door is blaring and there's no hope anymore, really. No hope. And the sink won't stop dripping and they're arguing in the adjacent room and if he thinks anymore, he's going to go insane.
The alarm goes off, and he's running once again, running as fast as he can from the guards and the civilians and the fear of being caught. He might escape to live another day – but what about tomorrow?
He's here to save the country, but, sometimes, all he really wants to save is himself.
The End