Three Perfect Shots [Daily Prompt]

The gun in my hand. The bullet firing out of the end. The blood spraying from his chest.

The hatred dying in his eyes and I ran. As fast as I could. He had come towards me, and I didn’t even hesitate. He was blown away and all I could feel was relief, he was dead, and I was safe.

Running.

[x]

[I just want to point out that all of my daily prompts are fictional, unless otherwise stated]

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