From The Diary of a Killer
I lie, crouched, behind the broken stump of a tree. It provides me the cover I need. The sun has not risen. My half-burnt cigarette keeps me warm, keeps me going. The ashen smoke merges with the mist, yet it fails to hamper my vision. My nerves are stiff. I do not know how long I have been waiting here. What might have been minutes seems like hours. Time has no meaning.
It is cold. Yet the sweat breaks on my brow. One wrong move, and I will lose my cover. I am on a mission, I need to kill. I’ve done it before. Killing means nothing. I check my sniper’s rifle, again. The single bullet lies in wait, to do its duty. That is all I get – one bullet, one chance. One bad shot, and I will lose my life.
The breaking of a twig snaps me into attention. I see my target. Adrenaline rushes back. My finger grips the trigger. Aim. Fire. I was amazed at how nonchalantly I pulled the trigger. No hesitation. I see my target, dropping dead. Another mission completed.
As the sun rises, I wait for a helicopter to take me home.I have cheated death once more. But how long will this last?
Submitted By:
Krishna R
II CSE
