In the distance, a lone figure stands aiming the barrel of a gun to a man's head. A long black trench coat flaps at the back of sturdy unshaken legs that are able to bear ten hours of the worst torture anyone is ever capable of receiving. A slender body with tired arms stands still against the heavy gush of a wind, blowing up the back of the two characters. Determined to pull off the shot, the figure continues to stare deep into the victim's shaking and pleading eyes, desperation crying out for help.
Off in the distance of a setting sun that casts is final rays upon the deserted forest lands, a shot is sounded and rang out loud, signaling death upon the air. Birds fly away from their perch; animals scatter at the sudden sound. Noises cease to a halt as the motion freezes all of the listening ears of the forest. The lone figure with the long black trench coat resets the gun back into its holster, keeping steady eyes upon the final kill of the month.
A long braid whips past straightened shoulders and flies with the rest of the wind. Hardened eyes set upon a bleeding gap in what once was a right temple of a blonde man. Mouth kept at a tight form on unblemished skin, the figure shuts heavy eyes for a moment of rest. The character relinquishes after a long day of tracking down yet another kill. A smirk forms on un-parted lips, remembering the happier moments of life when childhood dreams were at its best before former teachings paid off.
The assassin turns and faces the setting sun for the first time in fifteen long years. The rays hit the cheeks of mild tampered skin, eyes of a cold blooded killer, and the look of a stalker sorting out its prey. Inhaling, the person shuts tired eyes and lowers a face to bloodied grass. Moments of history replay in the vision of what was once an innocent pair of child eyes and now a pair of down-right, blood thirsty, sinful blue orbs.
Head lowered to the ground, the figure takes a step away from the bullet mangled body and towards home. The past is once again shoved back into history as a bleeding memory, dying for recapture but crying for the loss of loved ones. Feelings and emotions are suppressed from the surface and once again hidden in the deep shadows of a dreadful past.
Reaching a black sport bike after ten minutes of slow stepping, the unshaken legs leap over the seat and crank the start of the wild motorbike. A black helmet is latched backed on, covering the blue eyed brown haired face of the unknown suspect. Soon after the face of the killer takes one last glance towards the forest trees, dirt is kicked up as thick black rubber wheels tear up the ground floor and take off at high speed, causing a whirlwind to pick up. The sounds of the loud engine could be heard miles away as the gears turn and the bike picks up speed, gaining and gaining with each resurfacing memory.
Wind blows against a masked villain; tears hidden behind the tinted visor, the bike picks up more speed as it reaches the nearest runway towards a busy city.
Wings of Destruction
Sequel to Duo's Child
Kitty Felone