CHAPTER 1;
THE BOUNTY HUNTER
A thick fog filled the night air, and it was difficult to see, let alone travel without colliding with anything or anyone. This was normal weather though, and he ignored it, able to pick out distinct shapes in the thick fog.
He stood in an alcove in the city centre, the wind buffeting his hair and clothes. His brown hair was swept around his blue eyes, and, as with the weather, he ignored that too. His long leather coat whipped around his legs, and he buried his gloved hands deep in his pockets.
He watched, waiting for the person he had been tracking all night, finally following him all the way to this seedy bar, where the man no doubt intended to consume more than a healthy dose of liquor.
It won't matter, he thought with a sly smile from the shadows, watching the door intently, his eyes barely moving from the opening, he won't be around long enough to regret it.
He loved his work. it was so satisfying, even if it was illegal. That meant nothing to him. those damn law officials were ignorant anyway, they hadn't managed to catch him yet. What made this time any different?
And then it happened, the one moment he had been waiting for; the door cracked open, and out stumbled a tousled, roughed-up man, a bottle gripped in his hand.
He smiled again, and stepped silently out of the shadows, his boots failing to make a noise on the concrete.
He followed a safe distance behind the man, watching and taking mental note of his every move. He wanted to wait until the right moment, when no one would notice.
The man turned into an alley, mumbling something to himself under his breath.
He followed him in, removing his hands from his pockets, and delving beneath the black coat.
A blade glinted in the overhead lamp, and he crept up behind the man, driving the weapon deep into the man's back, taking hold of the bottle so that his victim would not drop it, drawing attention to the scene.
The man had no time to cry out, as he quickly died, living long enough to stare back at him, into the eyes of his murderer.
He kept a tight hold of the bottle as the man dropped lifelessly to the ground, blood spilling from the wound in his back.
As he stared down at the dead man, that same sly smile creeping over his lips, he took a swig from the bottle, grimacing at the strong alcoholic flavour. He quickly downed the contents, and laid it beside the man.
He walked back out of the alleyway, having wiped his blade free of the man's blood, replacing it back into its sheath.
He ran a gloved hand through his wild brown hair, and looked around. There was no one in sight.
Something chirped from inside his coat, and he reached inside, and removed a communications device from an inside pocket. He held it to his ear.
"Reed here."
THE BOUNTY HUNTER
A thick fog filled the night air, and it was difficult to see, let alone travel without colliding with anything or anyone. This was normal weather though, and he ignored it, able to pick out distinct shapes in the thick fog.
He stood in an alcove in the city centre, the wind buffeting his hair and clothes. His brown hair was swept around his blue eyes, and, as with the weather, he ignored that too. His long leather coat whipped around his legs, and he buried his gloved hands deep in his pockets.
He watched, waiting for the person he had been tracking all night, finally following him all the way to this seedy bar, where the man no doubt intended to consume more than a healthy dose of liquor.
It won't matter, he thought with a sly smile from the shadows, watching the door intently, his eyes barely moving from the opening, he won't be around long enough to regret it.
He loved his work. it was so satisfying, even if it was illegal. That meant nothing to him. those damn law officials were ignorant anyway, they hadn't managed to catch him yet. What made this time any different?
And then it happened, the one moment he had been waiting for; the door cracked open, and out stumbled a tousled, roughed-up man, a bottle gripped in his hand.
He smiled again, and stepped silently out of the shadows, his boots failing to make a noise on the concrete.
He followed a safe distance behind the man, watching and taking mental note of his every move. He wanted to wait until the right moment, when no one would notice.
The man turned into an alley, mumbling something to himself under his breath.
He followed him in, removing his hands from his pockets, and delving beneath the black coat.
A blade glinted in the overhead lamp, and he crept up behind the man, driving the weapon deep into the man's back, taking hold of the bottle so that his victim would not drop it, drawing attention to the scene.
The man had no time to cry out, as he quickly died, living long enough to stare back at him, into the eyes of his murderer.
He kept a tight hold of the bottle as the man dropped lifelessly to the ground, blood spilling from the wound in his back.
As he stared down at the dead man, that same sly smile creeping over his lips, he took a swig from the bottle, grimacing at the strong alcoholic flavour. He quickly downed the contents, and laid it beside the man.
He walked back out of the alleyway, having wiped his blade free of the man's blood, replacing it back into its sheath.
He ran a gloved hand through his wild brown hair, and looked around. There was no one in sight.
Something chirped from inside his coat, and he reached inside, and removed a communications device from an inside pocket. He held it to his ear.
"Reed here."