• Chapter 23 •

8.3K 289 205
                                    

Rora was on a special mission now: her goal was to find a Shadow, kill him, and take all his weapons so she could stand a chance out there. And the mere thought of finally letting her anger out was sweet like candy.

The rain started pouring heavier, but it still wasn't enough to drown out the panicked yells of civilians who were executed one by one by the hand of Shadow Company. A woman was yelling only a few houses down, pleading for her life, but a gunshot put an abrupt stop to her pleadings, chills running along Rora's spine. For a moment, her legs stopped carrying her onward, taking a moment of silence for all of the lost lives.

If I don't hurry the fuck up, maybe I'll be the next.

So clenching her jaw, she cut her path down in an alley, darting towards an ajar door of a shop. Looking around in the dimly lit shop, she walked past a topped-over dress rack on the floor, shoes littered beneath the busted shop window. Her eyes lingered on an emerald green handbag, which was awfully nice, but this wasn't the time and place to look for bags.

She started looking through the remaining shelves in hopes for a weapon, maybe a left-over pocketknife or a screwdriver, anything. She would be even happy to find a pen at this point.

„Fucking nothing," she huffed out, throwing her hands in the air as her eyes scanned the place again. And that was when her paranoia wasn't for nothing, because from her right, she heard something move.

Her senses heightened, all of her muscles flexing as she softened her steps, holding the pistol with both of her hands in front of her, ready to use her gun if it was necessary. She would rather not, though, because a gunshot would gain a lot of attention probably, and making noise wasn't the best decision right now. She had to stay low, with meant going stealth was her best chance at survival.

At that thought, she holstered her pistol, needing both of her hands for the thing that just came into her mind. She had many stupid ideas, and this one was probably one of them, but fuck it. She would only live a few more days or die tonight, she didn't have that much to lose after all.

She picked up a big enough glass shard from the ground, which was the shop window before. It was a thick glass, and even despite her gloves protecting her skin, she could still feel that it was sharp, too. Rora picked up a turquoise blouse from the ground, ripped it in half, and wrapped it around her new weapon for a more secure grip. She was trying to kill others with it, not cut herself in the middle of it.

And then, the steps grew closer.

Lowering herself into a mid-crouch, trying to ignore the way her thigh burned and cried in protest, hiding in the shadows as her back pressed against the cold wall behind her. Her heart started to beat a mile a second, her blue eyes snapping from one corner to the other in a frantic motion as she tried to listen to whoever was coming her way. By the sound of it, she could only hear one pair of footsteps, meaning that whoever was approaching her hideout, they were alone. Which was good news for her, and bad news for them.

The steps were so close now, it was almost like they were standing right next to her, her heartbeat drumming in her ear almost as loud. Her grip tightened around the glass, already seeing the shadow of a man in the doorway, which lead to the streets. They were probably patrolling at this point, checking if they have killed anybody, not wanting to leave any witnesses. It only fueled her anger more.

And then there he was, completely oblivious to her frame hiding in the shadows, ready to kill. She took a moment to look at the Shadow in front of her: his face was completely hidden by a black balaclava and his tactical gear made the illusion that he was so much bigger than her. Which, in the end, he was, but she had the element of surprise and a very sharp glass in her hand. She only had to wait another few seconds till he turned around just a tad bit, his attention occupied by some random piece of souvenir behind the counter.

killshot | simon riley ✓Where stories live. Discover now