The Assassin - Original Writing

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The Assassin - Original Writing The rain gently pattered against the black BMW windows, parked against the think forest. That’s where he took refuge until it was time. His square jaw clenched tightly in anticipation. His cold, iron eyes pulled a mysterious attraction, almost daring to join its pain, happiness and anger. They promised danger, adventure and warned you at the same time. His jet, black hair, spiked in any direction and his slight stubble gave him a youthful look, however experienced. He groped for his brief case, on the backseat of the car, and made his route towards the small hill. Maybe if he left the car doors locked it would be easier for him. It was nearly time. He pulled his feet out of the mud. It took tremendous effort to simply walk a few meters distance, as the mud sucked his feet in almost instantly and let go resentfully with a loud smack. The dark grey sky reflected off the puddles, which trickled into the lower areas. The main feature of this depressing setting was the silent, gigantic house towering over the once beautiful flowers and green lawn. Its windows looked more like depressed eyes and the usually orange walls looked dark and murky. The brick driveway had murky water seeping through the cracks, leading to where the two Mercedes took shelter unsettled by the weather. He clicked open his briefcase and neatly laid out a cloth. He was almost prepared as he clicked the pieces together. Usually the silver Ferrari would have been detected with its rumbling but the sound of the engine was drowned by the pitter patter of the rain. As it turned the corner, into sight, he was unnerved by the slightest time change. The Ferrari turned sharply into the driveway, spraying the puddles on the side of the driveway. Another difference he noticed from her usual daily schedule was stopping at the gate to get her mail. The woman parked her Ferrari untidily next to the two Mercedes and turned off the loud music, then the heater just like every other day.

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