It was another summer night in Toronto. There were no clouds in the air and there was a gentle breeze gently flicking at the trees. Indeed, it was a very calm night. It was a night that no one would ever suspect anything bad could happen on such a night. However, if any person thought such a thing, they were wrong. For today, it was a night of murder and mystery.
A tall figure silently walked on the empty streets of Toronto. The figure's footsteps made little noise as he or she walked silently towards his/her destination. The street was empty, of course, as night time was the ideal time of day the figure would act. The shadow of this person could be seen gently fingering his or her pocket.
The figure turned right at the intersection of two streets.
Not far now, the tall figure thought. The fingering at his/her pocket quickened its pace in anticipation.
The figure turned left at another intersection and walked until the street ended into an alleyway. He looked at the figure in front of him and smiled at himself. For today, he would have nothing to fear of.
The figure neither moved, nor looked up at him. The limp figure was seated flat on the wall behind her. Her once pretty face was now bruised up. Her hair, no longer neat with a look of perfection, now was spread all across her face in knots. Her clothing was ripped and torn in many places. There was a rope tied around her hands and feet. The most heartbreaking place for which one could look at were her eyes, for which had once been filled with happiness and joy, were now torn between sadness and pain. Her eyes were faced to the ground, as if in some prayer.
"I'm going to have to do this," said the tall figure to the girl. The figure gave out an evil laugh that sent chills up the girl's spine. "You know too much that would to give the police an interest."
The girl finally looked up. Her face was drawn in a look of fright. She muttered a plea of help to the figure. "Please. Please don't. I'm begging you ... -"
The figure's hands finally reached out into his pocket. The figure pulled out the gun from his pocket. The figure held it in his/her hands, admiring the gun. With one glance at the girl he held up the gun in front of the girl. He walked closer towards the girl till he could place the gun against the temple of her head.
"No ... please. I'll do anything. I won't tell. Please ..." She pleaded. Her eyes now full of fright and her face etched with horror.
"Oh, I'm sorry," said the figure in a nasty voice. "That's not possible. It's the only way I'll know for sure you won't say anything."
With one last look at the girl, he pulled the trigger.
The girl fell to the side with a silent thud. Blood was now gushing out of her head.
The figure reached down to check her pulse. With a satisfying nod, he stood up and placed the gun back in his pocket. She was dead at the scene.
Without glancing at the girl's body, walked slowly out of the alleyway and onto the empty streets again. The job that he had intended to finish was over. He was in no danger now. He smiled and gave a laughter of joy at his accomplishments tonight.