DELIBERATELY SLOW BREATHS WERE drawn just after she adjusted the scope on her rifle, taking into account the wind direction and distance between her and her target. All she had been given was a place and time, guaranteed that the person she was set to kill would show then. There were too many variables that she didn’t like, namely not being given the name or a picture of the person she was set to kill, but she took what was given, years of training and discipline setting her on this path at an early age. She did as she was told, always, no matter what. That loyalty was the last thing on her mind when she glanced down to her watch, the witching hour upon them as the figure stepped into view. That loyalty was put into question when that figure became clear through her magnified scope, seeing a mirror image of herself looking right back. And that loyalty was seemingly shattered in the instance she hesitated to pull the trigger. Her finger shook against it, breathing growing ragged at the sight. How the hell did someone have her face? And why did they want her dead? The latter was a question she never posed with any other mark, but this was different. It’s several beats before she pulls away from her perch, disassembling her gun piece-by-piece and placing it in the compartments of her case. No, she needs answers and she’s not taking the life of her doppleganger until she gets them. That starts with a harsh conversation to be had with the girl who looked strikingly like her. It’s only moments before she reaches the opposing building, even less time to climb several flights of stairs, and a single breath before she knocks upon her door. Whoever this person was, she had to know them.
@intxrcisus ❨ PLOTTING CALL ❩
