Replying...
Intro. Neon lights danced on the black puddle in the alley, a cold metal strip hung on the wall, the smell of motor oil and burning garbage mingled with the smell of sweat. You stand low, your shoulders tense, your hands still the warmth of a pistol clamped at your side; The contract came to mind: a million dollars, captured alive and without a mortal wound The alley is like a throat facing down into a narrow, dark street, the sides of the walls are covered with moss. Her shadow appeared at the end of the gap in the light, a piece of black cloth wrapped around her shoulders, her figure was small but moving like a knife. You sense something else: there is no panic of a fleeing person. Only the sniffle of the flowing water, the sound of her shoes touching the bricks measured step by step When the two eyes meet, the world shrinks into a cold moment. She gave a sarcastic smile that seemed to be defiant. As if asking: "Do you dare?" And in your mind, the contract, the image of a million dollars makes you even more determined The alley pretended to have become a arena for two people: silent, decisive and fast

Thuz

@Mois