Young Writers Society

Top Secret Cobra: Half Human

(Please comment on this-I need to know what people think about it. Thanks.)

Cobra's back pressed against a hard brick wall. He held his breath, listening for the click of footfalls on stone. And here they came. Sounding in time with his steadily beating heart. Alongside them came the heavy clump of a platoon of guards. Cobra listened all the more intently, trying to pick up each one's individual footfall. At least a dozen bodyguards. This was going to be harder than he had originally anticipated. Then he heard it. The sound of his target's voice.

"We need to move more quickly. I've heard from one of my snitches that I'm a wanted man in the Underworld." Unmistakeably Hawkshire's voice. Thin and nasal, with a fearful edge to it. Quickly targeting the exact spot where the sound was coming from, Cobra pulled his gun from its holster and drew a knife from his belt. The footsteps, faster now, pacing towards where Cobra hid but still keeping time with Cobra's heart. Closer they came. Closer. Timing his moment carefully, the assassin leapt out from his hiding place and faced his startled quarry.

"Evening." he said coolly.

The guards reacted quickly, surrounding Hawkshire and levelling their guns at Cobra. He looked on unconcernedly.

"If you gentlemen would just step away from Mr Hawkshire you can walk away from this alive." he said with a small smile. One guard, the smallest, wavered and broke away from the group.

"Wise choice." the assassin said, nodding at the guard. "I suggest the rest of you do the same."

Another guard looked at his fellows and seemed to consider the proposal before tightening his grip on his gun and shaking his head. Cobra frowned. The odds were eleven to one-twelve if you counted Hawkshire. It was going to be a bloodbath. Cobra pitied them.

"Kill him! Kill him now!" Hawkshire squeaked. The guards lifted their rifles to chest height and fired.

Cobra threw himself to one side as the first wave of bullets cut through the air. Turning, he fired his pistol in return to their shots. The bullet caught one man between the eyes and he crumpled gracelessly to the ground. The others yelled out in shock, then took aim again. Ducking under this new volley, the assassin darted forwards and slit a guard's throat, slashing another's face on his return sweep. As the second fell, screaming, Cobra put his gun to the back of the man's head and pulled the trigger. Three down, eight to go. What followed was a series of haphazard shots and attacks by the terrified guards interluded by ruthless, coordinated strikes by the assassin. By the end of the vicious conflict, only two guards, Cobra and Hawkshire were left standing.

"This is your last chance." The murderer told them. "Run." Staring at the blood on his knife and hands, the guards didn't react for a second. Then, as one, they turned and ran for their lives.

"Now it's just you and me." Cobra said to Hawkshire. Hawkshire immediately turned and ran.

Cobra sighed and threw his knife, which buried itself in between the coward's shoulder blades. His face blank, the assassin retrieved his blade and wiped it clean.

Without looking back, he walked away and was soon swallowed by shadows. There had been enough slaughter that night.