He smiled as he struck the guard with his claws. His sharpened teeth showing for the briefest of moments, his blood red eyes full of joy. Just ahead were three more guards, each with a gun trained on his head.
He chuckled as he disappeared from their line of sight altogether. They looked around with fear etched in their faces trying to find him again, but nowhere to be found. Suddenly he struck again, stabbing the first guard expertly in the chest.
The other guards turned to him, and watched in horror, as their comrade crumpled to the floor, blood forming a pool around his body. The assailant looked up at the remaining two. His crimson scales visible for only a moment before he vanished again.
He dashed forward, and struck at the next man's leg, severing it from the rest of his body. He fell to the ground screaming, but he was quickly silenced, by another expert strike to his chest.
The last guard backed away from him, fear spreading across his face, and down his body causing him to shake. The assailant looked at him, as smile spreading across his face to again reveal his sharpened teeth. Gripped tightly in each hand was a bloody metal claw.
His name was Striker the Chameleon, and he was a professional assassin. The guard however saw only a murderous and crazed Anthro making his way towards him. He stumbled as he walked backwards, and was soon at face point with the chameleon's claw.
"I'll ask you one question, and the way you answer it will change the way this night ends for you." Striker said. "Your boss, Where is he?" He asked.
The guard whimpered. "H-he's up top…highest floor." He said. "He was dealing with some business that needed to be finished tonight."
Striker smiled, and removed the claw from the man's face. "Very good, now if I see you again tonight. I can promise you that I will be the last ting you see." He walked away from the man.
As soon as his back was turned, the guard jumped to his feet, and took quick aim at the foolish Chameleon. He fired off a round, and managed only to warn the assassin of the danger from behind, as the shot flew passed his head.
Striker turned around, and dashed for the man, thrusting both of his claws at his chest, and connecting again with a deadly accuracy. The guard fell to the ground dead within the second he was struck. Striker stood up, and chuckled as he wiped away the blood on his claws on the guard's shirt. "Idiot, you would have lived if you had just turned, and walked away. Not that I care. The more bodies the better paid I am." He turned, and vanished from sight again. "Now back to work." He muttered, as he took off to find his target.