My red hair whips into my blue eyes on the dark cold night as I kneel behind a tree. My target dances in front of the windows, moving from room to room. My employer wants him dead because he gave away one small company secret. The small things always mess people up.
I enter the house after he has fallen asleep, sliding in though the bedrooms window. I draw the knife over his pale moonlit throat and blood, crimson red and shining sprays from his throat. I jump out the Window from which I came and head to the nearest place to dispose of my bloody clothes.
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