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The Assassin  

Member rating: No Rating | Words: | Submitted: Sat Aug 30 2003

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The Assassin All that could be seen was the flickering of the unknown shadows, as he lay cadaverous beneath the long lifeless grass, listening to the cold shrieking of the owl in the distance. His pale white withered hands with thick purple piercing veins slowly prowled along the damp ground clenching gravel in his boney arthritic fingers. His mysterious possessed eyes fixed on a deserted house standing alone on the dark misty moor. Sweat stood out from his brow, as his face kept an expressionless look. He put his hand into his leather jacket; it was torn at one side, and pulled out a cigarette. He gripped it tightly between his cold bloodless lips and lit his lighter. The flame flickered, he glared into it and his devilish eyes began to widen, as if his fearless face was gaining power and energy through this flame. Once again he took one...

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