Doo-Wops from Various Hooligans
I've recently started watching City Hunter and Killer Girl K again (K-Dramas. On Netflix, also easily found on YouTube and maybe Dramafever. I highly recommend them both.) which inspired this little drabble that I think I might like to turn into a full blown, plot twisting, mind screwing, story. (Let's just ignore the fact that I have two stories in progress I have yet to finish, 'kay?)
Doo-Wop #7: Organization
"All right, Number Eight, focus. We're just going to do this like we did in training, got it?" a familiar voice spoke through the young adult's ear piece as he lay on a darkened rooftop. His hands tensely wrapped around his weapon.
"Yeah yeah. Unbunch your panties, I got this."
Number Eight fidgeted minutely underneath the dark blanket he lay under. He checked his timer and the set up of his sniper before he scratched at the band of the generic dark beanie his hair was tucked underneath, uncomfortably. He hated the thing but since he insisted on the crazy style he wore his already attention attracting red hair in, He was all but forced to wear it. According to his superiors, his sense of style and covert operations didn't go hand in hand.
He rested his face against the scope once more. He'd been scolded about his restlessness so much he could essentially feel the newspaper that he was usually popped with, collide with the crown of his head. He checked the timer again. He had about a minute before the President of Ssang Corporation showed. A minute before his bullet melted. A minute before he went from a simple chronic fuck-up, to the real deal. He resisted the urge to tug at the beanie again.
"There he is! Line it up. You've got about 45 seconds left!" The voice hissed in his ear.
Eight jumped slightly and peered through the scope. He spotted the target. A portly, vertically challenged man. His hair more gray than brown and balding slightly in the center. The man, allegedly responsible for some illegal in vitro fertilization operations and embezzling, looked as harmless as the crazy man that greeted the redhead on his way to Starbucks every morning. Eight swallowed, his finger easing towards the trigger.
"Wait!"
Eight halted the same time the exclamation assaulted his ear drum. A young man, roughly a year or two younger than Eight, blocked his sight. The obscurer of his shot held a head full of beach blonde hair and a diminutive stature.
Shit Snacks. He mentally growled.
"Stand down, Eight."
The redhead looked over at the timer.
29 seconds. He quickly scooted over and realigned his shot.
"Fuck that." He responded before pulling the trigger just as the blonde male moved away. The bullet easily pierced the back of the man's head, sending him down to the ground like a sack of cinder-blocks as his timer hit zero.
A cacophony of screams and gasps erupted from below as he quickly broke down his perch. He looked over at the crowd once more catching another glimpse of the blonde. Cerulean blue eyes were wide and blank. Even from this distance the frantic heaving of his chest as he struggled for air was apparent. Blood painted his face in an intricate pattern.
Eight found himself stuck in his crouched position as he watched the young man turn around frantically searching for the source of the gunshot. He looked up directly at and through Eight, unable to see actually see him in his place in the overhanging shadows.
The assassin's heart dropped as he recognized the wild terror racking the young man's frame. Sorry, Kid. He knew firsthand that watching the light in someone's eyes extinguish right in front of you was never something you could ever really get over.
"Eight, get your ass out of there!" His superior scolded loudly snatching him from his musings.
"Coming." He answered shortly before grabbing his stuff, doing a quick double check of his area. Still crouched low, he paused momentarily and cast a glance back into the chaos. He looked back over to where the blonde previously stood. He could hardly be made out, now swallowed up by the frenzied crowd as he ran in the opposite direction.
"Don't stop moving, or the darkness will overtake you." Eight muttered towards the ambling blonde, before turning on his heels and vanishing into the night.
I think this nicely counteracted the last chapter's fluff-fest, don't you? If I were to turn this into a full story, this would most likely be the prologue. ;) So, feel free to tell me what you guys think!
Notes: Ssang is the Korean word for twin. according to the very non-reliable Google Translator and my even more unreliable Korean skills.
