Thread: Wrong Place, Wrong Time (Orgasmo vs. Lilytania)

Well Im glad you enjoyed the show, Honey, the male said to the fetching blonde whose hand rested in the crook of his elbow as they continued to walk along the sidewalk. The New York City side street they were on was a bit dark in some spots, yet there was ample enough illumination from the interspersed streetlights above for them to see where they were going. And now that Ive taken over as District Attorney, well be doing this a lot more often, I promise, he added cheerily. Taking out his keys, the newly appointed D.A. pointed the key chain at the pewter 2011 Mercedes SL 500 and pressed the remote unlock button. Two high-pitched electronic beeps pierced the night air, signaling the cars alarm system being deactivated and were immediately followed by the clunk of the doors unlocking. The male opened the passenger side door and helped the young woman into the luxury carriage. Once she was all the way in, he shut the door firmly and made his way to the drivers side of the car. He quickly strode around and opened the door, but before he could get in, he slumped inexplicably down to the ground, blood gushing from the two large holes in his chest. His eyes filled with fear as he turned his gaze through the open door to his wife sitting in the car. She, not knowing what had happened at first, just sat there looking at him. She was totally unable to comprehend the image before her. When it finally clicked, she abandoned all sense, clambered over the middle glove compartment and the drivers seat and got out of the car scrambling to her husbands side. She attempted to stop the bleeding with her hands and then, in the same way he had done before her, she slumped to the ground with two identical holes in her chest. She lay there, eyes wide in fear, her breathing slow, bubbly and becoming more labored. Her gaze never left that of her husband and the last image she saw was that of the lifeless scared eyes of the man she loved. Moments later, a single unassuming figure wearing a dark designer suit, sans tie, emerged from the shadows nearby. Declan Kilpatrick, known in certain underground circles as The Exterminator or simply, Mr. K, swiftly and silently made his way towards the two bodies lying motionless on the cold pavement. Both were slumped together, one with an arm over the other, warm blood seeping through the fingers of the females hand, an attempt to stop the bleeding of her companion, a mistake. The six-two blonde male who made his living as a stone-cold contract killer slowly entered the glow of the nearby streetlight and stood over the bodies, looking down upon them with emotionless steel-blue eyes. He then aimed the barrel of his glimmering Wilson Combat CQB .45 ACP handgun at the males head and fired two more silenced shots, putting two slugs into his cranium and confirming the kill. Satisfied that the young District Attorney was no longer a participant in this world, Declan removed the silencer, placed it in his pocket and slipped the pistol under his sport coat and into it the holster against his body then turned and calmly began walking away. Another hit successfully completed without a hitch. Or so he thought