Shifting swiftly between the dense, cramped shadows, he stalked into the snow covered shed an increasing glow in the pouch he held elegantly yet evilly in his hand. The man was Glenstukisk Ibrohumstonic. Growing with a mafia boss, his first time handling a gun was when he was 4 and he had refined his technique over the years. Now, he was the most sought for hired assassin. He slithered and crawled away from between a whole police department every time a job was done. A name he had acquired in his career was the 'Gentleman' - no one actually knew his name except for himself; he was called this because everytime he murdered, he would make sure he had bought a bouquet of white roses and a plain car marking his as the 'Gentleman'. He never forgot to put on his gloves, he would be in prison if he would ever be so careless. This time, he had been given a job from Bentley Armani, Vice President of the U.S. to kill the President. This was by far one of the easiest tasks ever, he thought, a handful of dynamic, nuclear walnuts should do the trick. He didn't really acknowledge that it was not just his reputation on the line - it was his life.
- The End -