[center][img]https://s22.postimg.org/qmer2dny9/Precious_Kyle_Lucidius.png[/img]
[h2]Location: Hoffand Park[/h2][/center]
[hr]

Victoria smiled sweetly at Anastasia as she told her name. That smiled crept along her face as she turned to look back toward the center of the park. The area was laid out like a circle, with the jogging paths breaking up the otherwise symmetrical layout. There were bridges and patches of land dedicated to the most beautiful of flowers. Of course, none of this could be seen at night. Those who visited during the day could make out the faint outlines of different colored roses and lilies but all the beauty was sheered off as if ripped flesh from bone. Ever since the War started it was as if the Earth herself pushing back.

[color=lightgreen]"I understand what you mean. I come seeking peace as well."[/color] Victoria brushed her hair behind her ear. From the profile view, one could see that she was hauntingly beautiful. Crimson lips on porcelain skin. Her attire was impressive as well for she wore a dress of fine silk that seemed to glow when the light caught her just right. [color=lightgreen]"It is dangerous out here,[/color] she said after a pause, [color=lightgreen]are you not worried?"[/color] Her hands laid folded across her crossed knees. There was something certainly off about this woman.

Kyle had circled efficiently around the park, always keeping the two women in his view. He maintained a steady pace, but hunched over and pulled the hoodie closer to his body as if he were homeless. There was a bridge ahead and he slinked underneath it, gaining his composure. Over the years he had conditioned his mind to focus during times like these. Doubts and obsessions were locked away in the darkest recesses of his psyche. She was only an objective, he reminded himself. Yet the faces stared back at him tearing at the walls he had built. Were they truly deserving of death? At first he thought so, seeing first hand what they were capable of. He still carried the scars of the fire.

[i]Only an objective.[/i]

Kyle moved toward the back of the underpass, pushing himself up the hill on the opposite side of where the two women were. He reached a separation wall that marked the boundary of the park. It rose only about three feet and Kyle scaled it effortlessly, keeping his profile as low as possible, hugging his chest against the stonework. He made sure the gun at his hip didn't scrap or tap the stone as he passed over, setting his feet down quietly onto the grass. He had referenced out the area around the bench, noting where lamp posts were and how many windows of the adjacent building passed before one was centered behind the women. Kyle stayed in a crouched position, moving swiftly through the night across the barrier.

It was seconds when he reached where the women were. He peaked his head up over the stones, seeing the backs of the two. He knelt on one knee and his right hand reached for his pistol. The familiar grip greeted him as it slid quietly from the waistband of his pants. He placed the slide of the weapon to his forehead, resting his elbow on his knee as he closed his eyes. He did not say a prayer to any god he knew. He wouldn't dare be so arrogant as to believe that his sins would be forgiven. Instead, he pleaded in his own mind, picturing the woman who's life he was about to end.

[i]Forgive me...[/i]

Kyle peaked up from above the stonework once more. As silently as he had done before, he slid across the stonework like a serpent. The women were about twenty-five feet away from him at this point. Suddenly, the wind picked up, kicking some of the loose leaves around. Using this to mask his descent, he worked the distance, the leather soles of his boots soaking up any sound that may otherwise betray his location. Kyle pulled the hood further down over his face to mask his features. The other woman was the anomaly. A wrench in his plans.

[i]Twenty feet.[/i]

He would more than likely have to incapacitate her.

[i]Fifteen feet.[/i]

The shot would ring out loud and horrendous in the still night, at first rendering the woman frightened.

[i]Ten feet.[/i]

He could always use the butt of the pistol to knock her out. Clean. No mess.

[i]Five feet.[/i]

Kyle raised the pistol. He was only a step away from being point-blank with the back of her skull. You see, you squeeze the trigger of a weapon, you do not pull it. A big misconception in the accuracy of firearms. If you pull, the hand pulls the muzzle from its intended target. A smooth squeeze straight back. Professional. Cold. Detached. Kyle stopped when he felt the muzzle of the pistol touch the base of Victoria's skull. Seconds away from the woman's life spilling across the stones of the park walkway. However, Victoria smiled. She did not move at all but her lips parted, exhaling a wisp of hot breath. [color=lightgreen]"Mr. Lucidius."[/color]

For the first time in his life, so close to the kill, Kyle froze.