Acun’s eyes were shut against the . She was in a city, in the United States. Someplace called the “Windy City”. Acun was thinking that it was named appropriately, surely since the feather weight of a girl had tried to jump building to building. Her grappler had held as she swung across the rooftops of the city, but she swayed several feet off course. Windows had almost been broken. That would have warrented harsher punishment than before, and would probably injure Acun in the process.
She had seen the reflection of what she looked like, her flat black, nylon uniform blended seamlessly into the night. Gloves, scarf, and mask obscured any sking that was to be shown, and a Ski cap held all of her white hair in. She was a shadow, a phantasm that children only dreamed of. The city was the perfect playground for her, Her rifle was strapped to her back. She had one shot primed, but she could quickly make another shot. She had a target. She didn’t know his name, she didn’t even know why he needed to die. She knew he was going to be in the office corridor at 3:13 AM, and that it was 2:57 AM. The city slept. Not for long.
Acun was laid out on the 137th floor of the Rin family hotel. Acun neither paid for a room, nor entered through the door. A large, jagged hole in the window supported that entry, but Acun had actually entered silently, through the ventilation system. It was a tight squeeze, and she was running abit behind schedule. A scope was pressed to her eye, the padding blocking out all other light. The infared light spectrum shone into her eyes, and she saw the weak spot on the glass, bullet proof, but it was clearly weakened though its years of use. The Windy City was on her side it seemed. The local weather reports said there was a cross wind of 20 mph at her altitude… It would make for a difficult shot, but not too difficult. Acun adjusted her scope for the wind, and waited… waited… and waited.
A man exited his office, he had been on a teleconference before, it was regarding the treatment of prisoners of war. 3:13 AM, and a Political Leader was dead. Acun’s aim was the same as it had been for the past 2 years. Perfect, the man was dead before he hit the floor, the bullet shattered the pane of glass before him, impacting his forehead, and entered, without exiting. The bullet richocheted within his cranium, absolutely destroying any chance that he would survive, as his brain was hardly more than a pile of mush.
Acun knew that she could do this part, but the next part would be near impossible. She had just fired a gunshot in one of the most expensive hotels known to man, as well as just trespassed on a crime scene. Sirens wailed below, and Acun had to slip out in the next 10 seconds before hotel security came in with their assault rifles.
Acun strapped the rifle back to her back, and now she got up, and ran through the jagged hole in the window, the grappler on her arm was the only way to stop the fall, and now she had the to freefall all 130 floors down. Wind screamed past her head, her hat was ripped of, her white hair, flowed behind her, and her eyes were closed, the scarf that covered her face was pushed off of it, wind burn was immediate, but it was impossible to open her eyes without it hurting. Hitting a bug right now would probably result in blindness. Acun reached out with her left hand toward the building she had shot at, and fired her grappler, it impacted on a wall, thank goodness not a window, and Acun had enough force to go sailing through the window that she would impact.
Time slowed down, tautness on the line grew, until it was fully taut, then Acun’s shoulder gave out, it ripped free of the socket and it provoked a cry of pain more severe that a child of her age should be able to prodce. And finally, she began her perilous swing into the building Acun managed to bring her boots around, her feet punching through the glass, leaving an Acun-sized hole in the pane. Her arm was next to useless, but her right wasn’t She summoned up a knife, quickly cutting the grappler’s line, and she ran it was an office space, good ole cubicles, the glass wasn’t bullet proof on this part of the building. Acun smashed another pane on the opposite side of the building to the shooting and looked outside, it was maybe another 150 feet to the ground, Acun hadn’t fallen long enough…
Acun crouched down, dug her knife into the side of the building, one of the pillars between the panes of glass, made of a cheap concrete, and jumped, her knife didn’t break, it cut through the concrete, leaving a gash, and slowing Acun’s decent to the ground. Several times her knife broke, but Acun resummoned it before any real speed was built up.
Acun hit the ground with a large Ooomph, but it was like no one saw anything, or like something like that happened everyday in the windy city… If that was true, then Acun wouldn’t be out of work for a long time…