Crosshairs
folder
InuYasha › Het - Male/Female › Sesshōmaru/Kagome
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,610
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
InuYasha › Het - Male/Female › Sesshōmaru/Kagome
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,610
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.
Crosshairs
-Prologue-
London, England 1100 hours Wednesday
On the rooftops of London, a silver haired shooter makes ready for the caravan of an official to round the corner. This is the last one, the shooter thinks to himself with his right finger beside the silenced, armor piercing rifle’s trigger and his eyes trained on where the target will make his or her appearance. No scope. He doesn’t need one with his inhuman eyesight.
His watch beeps, signaling the exact time the car of the official would make it’s way around the corner of a four way light. Road blocks were set up to discourage interference so the cars can go from point A to point B with as little hindrance as possible; police officers were stationed at checkpoints to control the crowds from unwanted attentions. As the shooter’s watch stops, two motorcycle officers appear followed by the stretch limo with it’s two flags displayed proudly on the hood.
The shooter’s grip tightens on the rifle as he steadies it to make a clean shot. His finger is placed on the trigger; his steady breathing synced perfectly for when he makes his shot. The car straightens out into perfect alignment with the barrel of his silenced rifle. One breath. Two breaths. On the third, he waits for the exhale. Bang! The sound of the bullet as it exit’s the chamber and goes through the barrel is slightly muffled making the ‘bang’ sound more like a loud ‘puff‘.
The bullet goes straight through the tinted windshield, grazing the temple of the agent in the passenger seat before hitting it’s target, and exiting through the back window with a light smattering of blood on the trunk. As chaos reigns on the streets, the shooter packs up his rifle; he presses a button before closing the case and walks away. The case that once held the rifle incinerates into ash, and the assassin has disappeared.
London, England 1100 hours Wednesday
On the rooftops of London, a silver haired shooter makes ready for the caravan of an official to round the corner. This is the last one, the shooter thinks to himself with his right finger beside the silenced, armor piercing rifle’s trigger and his eyes trained on where the target will make his or her appearance. No scope. He doesn’t need one with his inhuman eyesight.
His watch beeps, signaling the exact time the car of the official would make it’s way around the corner of a four way light. Road blocks were set up to discourage interference so the cars can go from point A to point B with as little hindrance as possible; police officers were stationed at checkpoints to control the crowds from unwanted attentions. As the shooter’s watch stops, two motorcycle officers appear followed by the stretch limo with it’s two flags displayed proudly on the hood.
The shooter’s grip tightens on the rifle as he steadies it to make a clean shot. His finger is placed on the trigger; his steady breathing synced perfectly for when he makes his shot. The car straightens out into perfect alignment with the barrel of his silenced rifle. One breath. Two breaths. On the third, he waits for the exhale. Bang! The sound of the bullet as it exit’s the chamber and goes through the barrel is slightly muffled making the ‘bang’ sound more like a loud ‘puff‘.
The bullet goes straight through the tinted windshield, grazing the temple of the agent in the passenger seat before hitting it’s target, and exiting through the back window with a light smattering of blood on the trunk. As chaos reigns on the streets, the shooter packs up his rifle; he presses a button before closing the case and walks away. The case that once held the rifle incinerates into ash, and the assassin has disappeared.