Night 1:
A ghostly figure cloaked is a sea of black rushes through the dark of night. Hopping over duct work, he floats between buildings finally coming to rest in the corner of the roof of the bank, the tallest building in town. Gracefully, and without effort, the figure produces a scoped rifle with a tripod and sets it up on the railing. Taking aim, he sees his target pacing back and forth on the ground below. He aims. The bolt is pulled back, and he takes a breath as his finger settles on the trigger.
Squeeze, dont pull. No breath. The figure runs this mantra through his mind as he slowly moves the rifle in sync with the pacing target below.
1. He counts silently in his head as his target stops for a moment, looking up at the moon.
2. The target begins to move again, slowly walking towards the hot dog stand a few yards away.
3. A sharp crack rings out, and the targets head explodes as if a firecracker had exploded within a watermelon. The body drops to the ground, and a ring of keys falls out of his pockets.
El Fenix, the
is dead!
Shit! screams Charmonium, Bad intel. He quickly packs up his gear and turns to make his getaway only to face the barrel of a snub-nosed pistol pointed squarely at his head.
Thanks for the help, the figure exclaims with a hint of glee. As his eyes begin to adjust, Charmonium recognizes the person who stands before him.
You! Wh- His words stop as the hammer of the pistol strikes the cartridge sending a .38 caliber bullet straight between his eyes. Charmoniums body slumps slowly against the railing, and the unknown figure turns to walk away smiling even more than he had.
Charmonium the
is dead!
*Day 2 Begins*