Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Microsoft Word

- Text Size +

The tranquilizer gun nestled fluidly in his arms. A finger embraced the trigger, a deadly caress of metal as cold as the predator’s heart. Death was but a whisper of the past and a comment on the future. Its voice went unheard, its breath held.

Later prey, later.

His mind molded metal beneath his fingertips. He leaned to face his prey; his world segmented by crosshairs. He scanned the crowd, searching. A face discerned itself from the rest. It traveled on its futile journey, oblivious to the danger staring at it hungrily.

Dance prey, dance.

He leaned forward in anticipation, gun and man, one. The thrill and boyish intrigued softened by the years of training. Skillfully he followed the figure; it never left the center cross. The figure slowly moved into an alley out of sight to all but the crosshairs.

Closer prey, closer.

He watched as his prey advanced nearer and nearer. He paused, his finger tightened on the trigger. His prey froze, realizing he was being watched. He spun around, facing the gun barrel. The predator held his breath.

Sleep prey, sleep.

He fired. His prey’s eyes widened. Automatically, his hand reached to his neck. The hand shook as it removed the dart now empty of its contents. The prey crumpled to the ground, unconscious- doomed.









You must login (register) to review.