hitman

Prologue

Cradled in a dark corner. Hiding behind the curtains as does a child playing hide and seek, except this is part of a far more fatal game. Holding breath to keep the silence unbroken, vision blurring and lungs straining. The effort is wasted as an almost empty bourbon bottle slips out of his bone-white fingers and clatters round the floor.
The patters of high heels resound about the apartment. The game is up. And he wasn’t the winner. The heels, black and expensive, stop by the curtains and an alluring voice echoes out. “Good evening Luke, no need to hold your breath anymore”. Scrabbling up, drunkenly clutching the wall for support, he stands defiantly but a quick glance at the bourbon bottle reminds him of why he was curled up to start with, and the rising vomit in his throat threatens to ruin his already failing poker face.
Reluctant, but unable to resist, his gaze rises from the floor to look at her face. Shiny black high heels. Long legs. Pencil skirt, black and grey pinstripe. Looks expensive too. Plain white blouse. Perfect combination of revealing enough to tempt, but concealing enough to sustain interest for weeks on end. Perfect outfit, business like and professional and yet femininely glamorous.
Then to the face. As his eyes find their target they widen with shock. Pale skin, but pure and clean, unlike his own sickly white. Full lips painted red, deep red. Golden hair. Blonde with perfect curls, and natural, not artificially ironed either. Cute button nose. Big baby eyes. Black irises drawing his own gaze deep into their vacuous tunnels.
Death has never looked so damn good.
The spell is broken as she speaks again “you know full well who I am, but for sake of trivial etiquette, you may call me Miss. Smith” and she waits for a response. Verging on catatonic, only an incoherent streak of whispered syllables pass his lips. One of Miss Smith’s perfectly shaped eyebrows raises a fraction. He clears his throat, if he was going down, he would do it like a man, inebriated or not.
He picks up the bourbon bottle and downs the last of it, “right, Miss. Smith, you can take me wherever you need me, I know my time is up”. It would have been a respectable last sentence if he hadn’t hiccupped and dribbled at the end. Unperturbed, Miss Smith brings his face close to hers and lets her lips brush his so lightly he’s not quite sure it had happened. She smiles, “your soul is mine” she whispers, raises her .45 and promptly shoots him in the face.
Miss. Smith exits the room, her shiny black high heels clicking on the bare floor boards, leaving slight traces of red in her swiftly departing footprints. The remains of what was, until a few seconds ago, the contents of a man’s skull.

Hiya, Robin! Coco here to review, hope that's ok? Firstly, welcome to YWS! Secondly, I was totally drawn to read this by the title - Hitman - it could only mean a great story and so far this is just that.

the main idea of this story will be of supernatural-type hitmen.

I love it!

roboninja wrote:Cradled in a dark corner. Hiding behind the curtains as does a child playing hide and seek, except this [was] part of a far more fatal game. Holding breath to keep the silence unbroken, vision blurring and lungs straining [This sentence confuses me]. The effort is wasted as an almost empty bourbon bottle slips out of his bone-white fingers and clatters round the floor.
The patters of high heels resound about the apartment. The game is up. And he [knew that he] wasn’t the winner. The heels, black and expensive, stop by the curtains and an alluring voice echoes out. “Good evening Luke, no need to hold your breath anymore”.

Scrabbling up, drunkenly clutching the wall for support, he stands defiantly but a quick glance at the bourbon bottle reminds him of why he was curled up to start with, and the rising vomit in his throat threatens to ruin his already failing poker face [Love this ].

Reluctant, but unable to resist, his gaze rises from the floor to look at her face. Shiny black high heels. Long legs. Pencil skirt, black and grey pinstripe. Looks expensive too. Plain white blouse. Perfect combination of revealing enough to tempt, but concealing enough to sustain interest for weeks on end. Perfect outfit, business like and professional and yet femininely glamorous. [Great description]

Then to the face. As his eyes find their target they widen with shock. Pale skin, but pure and clean, unlike his own sickly white. Full lips painted red, deep red. Golden hair. Blonde with perfect curls, and natural, not artificially ironed either. Cute button nose. Big baby eyes. Black irises drawing his own gaze deep into their vacuous tunnels.

Death has never looked so damn good. [My favourite line so far ]

The spell is broken as she speaks again “you know full well who I am, but for sake of trivial etiquette, you may call me Miss. Smith” and she waits for a response. Verging on catatonic, only an incoherent streak of whispered syllables pass his lips. One of Miss Smith’s perfectly shaped eyebrows raises a fraction. He clears his throat, if he was going down, he would do it like a man, inebriated or not.

He picks up the bourbon bottle and downs the last of it, “right, Miss. Smith, you can take me wherever you need me, I know my time is up”. It would have been a respectable last sentence if he hadn’t hiccupped and dribbled at the end. Unperturbed, Miss Smith brings his face close to hers and lets her lips brush his so lightly he’s not quite sure it had happened. She smiles, “your soul is mine” she whispers, raises her .45 and promptly shoots him in the face.
Miss. Smith exits the room, her shiny black high heels clicking on the bare floor boards, leaving slight traces of red in her swiftly departing footprints. The remains of what was, until a few seconds ago, the contents of a man’s skull.

So I absolutely loved this piece. There were a few minor points that need to be addressed, other than that this opening was brilliant. You set the scene brilliantly, the character's (especially the female assassin - loved her, it's nice to see a change from the normal male assassin) were presented well, and your personality as a writer shines through each sentence which is what makes this story so refreshing to read. I could go on about how much I like this, all that's left to say is that you've just gained a VERY eager fan, excited to read more

Hope I've been able to help!

*coco

Hey,
I liked the allusions to hide and seek and some parts made me chuckle such as:

He picks up the bourbon bottle and downs the last of it, “right, Miss. Smith, you can take me wherever you need me, I know my time is up”. It would have been a respectable last sentence if he hadn’t hiccupped and dribbled at the end.

However your sentence structure needs a bit more variety, I'm told the same thing however never really understood what they meant until reading your work. It's particularly noticeable here:

Reluctant, but unable to resist, his gaze rises from the floor to look at her face. Shiny black high heels. Long legs. Pencil skirt, black and grey pinstripe. Looks expensive too. Plain white blouse. Perfect combination of revealing enough to tempt, but concealing enough to sustain interest for weeks on end. Perfect outfit, business like and professional and yet femininely glamorous.

Because of the lack of variety in your sentence structure it feels as if you are just ticking off a list of features to describe. Otherwise a good effort, just needs some fine tuning.
I like femme fatales

Lewis

GuntaFX wrote:Because of the lack of variety in your sentence structure it feels as if you are just ticking off a list of features to describe.

Reluctant, but unable to resist, his gaze rises from the floor to look at her face. Shiny black high heels complemented her long slender legs gracefully. She wore a simple Pencil skirt, black and grey pinstripe but it was simple in the expensive modern style; the name Chanel crosses his mind briefly before he could try to suppress such effeminate ideas. He enforced the thought of motorbikes and Led Zeppelin for a moment and when he was quite content with his masculinity he raised his eyes upward. Plain white blouse. It was the Perfect combination of revealing enough to tempt, but concealing enough to sustain interest for weeks on end. Perfect outfit, business like and professional and yet femininely glamorous.


is this a better sentence structure? i was trying to make each observation short as if he was looking, pausing and quickly moving on but it didn't quite work out