Dark Angel

In the busy streets of a certain city, a dashing Kia Rio meandered by, oblivious of the lurking danger.

The chauffeur, a grim-faced, middle-aged man, sat glumly on his seat, looking straight ahead with his hands on the wheel, trying to navigate his way out of the slow-moving traffic.

The other occupant of the car, sat affluently at the back seat, his face obscured by a large newspaper.

He was apparently engrossed in his reading of the daily.

The wind blew silently by, mingling with the hot air of the afternoon.

Suddenly, a gun barrel slid out of the windows of one of the buildings, situated by the side of the road.

A hand pulled the trigger, aiming expertly and carefully at the Kia Rio, and Bang! Bang! Bang!!

The car swerved violently, hit another car in front before finally veering off the lane to burst into flames.

Several nearby cars were affected, and pandemonium broke out.

People rushed out of their cars and scrambled away, trying to distance themselves from the inferno.

Sirens wailed, and many phone calls were made.

Meanwhile, a black-clad figure slid silently out through the backdoor of one of the buildings, their backpack slung neatly across their shoulders.

The Dark Angel had struck again.