Saturday, March 25, 2006

He stares ahead, eyes bloodshot, brows knotted together as sweat drips down his forehead. Back pressed against the dirt stained wall he waits anxiously, as time seems to stand still. Slowly, bit by bit, light fades to darkness, as he became one with the shadows. Swiftly and silently he moved into action. One shot one hit and thats all he got. His eyes, a wonderfully addictive look of terror, his face a grimace of sheer determination.
One swipe across the delicate throat as blood gushed out in a fountain. A look of surprise, to terror, sudden realisation and then he looked no more. His eyes, cold and hard he let the body slide to the ground. Aged thirteen, once he was so innocent.

random
Painting the sky grey @ 12:11 AM

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