Topic: Sniper
This drabble preludes Fog, so yeah...
He stood in a room, a lamp overhead the only source of light in the room. He had a bad feeling followed by the loud bang of a pistol firing in the darkness and a sharp, intense pain in his chest.
His hand sprang up instantly, reflexively, to clutch the now gaping wound in his chest as he fell to his knees.
A figure, long and slender and clad in a black suit stepped into the light, blonde hair obscuring one eye, dark shadows hiding the other and the pistol in his hand, a thin plum of smoke rising from the mouth of the barrel just a shade or so darker then the smoke rising from the cigarette hanging from it's lips.
"W---what…?"
The all too familiar figure tilted his head and opened his mouth. The voice that pasted between his lips, however, was not the man's, but of another person, long dead.
It was her voice.
"Weak." Is what he/she said, and all he/she said before darkness swallowed the last of his vision…
…And revealed an expanse of fair, milky skin and silky soft blonde strands that slightly obscured closed eyes.
A dream… It was a dream. Were the only thoughts that Zoro could grasp at the moment.
It was all a dream… but… there was still a pain in his chest, left of center, where only moments before a twisted version of the man that lay next to him had put a bullet.
It was a sign, It had to be. What else could that dream mean, but to warn him that he was becoming too attached, that the arrangement he had with the cook was making him weak.
He needed to break away.
He needed to end this, now.
But…