11:26 PM, Cyril City
The street was virtually silent; that is, as silent as a city could be. In the distance the sound of cars and sirens could be heard, though that became nothing more than white noise.
A dark figure rounded the corner, his silhouette standing out against the shine from the gritty streetlights. His rushed footsteps and ragged breaths seemed to echo in the alley, no matter how hard he tried to keep himself quiet.
The man nervously looked over his shoulder as more footsteps were heard approaching.
“He went that way, I’m sure of it.”
“Try not to get too trigger happy this time; we want him alive.”
When the two new men began to come into view he frantically looked for a place to hide. His eyes locked onto a dumpster a few feet away and he dashed over to it, his shoes sliding on the cracked pavement.
“Hey, last time wasn’t my fault. If I hadn’t fired-“
“Shh!”
He slipped behind the dumpster and crouched there silently, tightly gripping the gun in his sweaty palms. He heard the two men enter the alley as the sound of their footsteps began to bounce off the walls. Their voices had gone silent.
He could feel his heart pounding against his rib cage while his lungs felt as though they were going to burst from the breath he held in them. Slowly, his finger moved to the trigger.
“I think he’s gone,” the first voice whispered.
There was another moment of silence, as if the second man was deciding whether he agreed or not.
“You’re right,” the other finally replied.
He heard a sigh come from one of them.
“Now what?” the first voice asked defeatedly.
“Now…” It was a new voice this time, deeper, and more sinister. And yet, it was a voice he was sure he had heard before. But that didn’t make sense, how could he…?
“Now,” the voice continued, “I do this.”
He heard the sound of the slide being pulled back on a gun, compelling him to see what was going on.
“No…” the first voice sounded shocked. “Y-you’re him?”
When the second didn’t reply he could no longer resist the urge to peer around the dumpster and see what was happening. Just as he began to inch closer to the edge of the dumpster he heard a gunshot ring out, rattling off the walls almost deafeningly. He froze.
After a few moments he heard the sound of slow, retreating footsteps.
He stayed where he was for a couple minutes longer; not daring to move until he was sure the person was gone. When he was certain he was in the clear, he cautiously stood and peered around the dumpster, keeping his gun close to his chest.
When he saw the body on the ground, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
His eyes stared sightlessly into the sky while a look of shock was still plastered on his face. A black bullet hole was centered in the middle of his forehead, proving he had been shot with deadly accuracy. The blood had already begun to pool around his head in a red, sticky halo.
