This one is the last.
Christopher said this everytime. He chuckled, knowing very well in his heart that he will break this promise soon…
He did not do it for money. It was an addiction. Just like any other intoxicating drug, running in his veins, making him want more. More of this unparalleled thrill, heady adrenaline rush and the electrifying satisfaction. Standing on top of the County Hotel, life flowed normally down on the road.
Christopher stood, holding the rifle in the exact position as he has done countless times before, and aimed at his target. Piece of cake, he thought.
Christopher was shot, right at the center of his skull.
Apparently, Lois, standing with a still smoking gun on the opposite building, had the same addiction; that too a tad more than Chris.
In response to the weekly Sunday Photo Fiction challenge presented by Al Forbes.