I Don't Want to be an Assassin_When I Cracked_The Hitman's Hart_Wyatt’s Journey
Catalog Guide:
I Don't Want to be an Assassin
Grandpa sat at the end of the table, a white teacup with blue swirls and gold trim in his hand. Frozen, halfway to his lips. He hadn’t moved in the five seconds since Edward had told him the news. He hadn’t even blinked. Edward sat at the opposite end of the table, wide eyes looking tentatively at his grandfather and then at anything else. Grandpa drew a shuddering breath, swallowed, and then smiled. “You are joking!” he said with a chuckle, and shook his head. “Oh!” he looked as if he’d just remembered his tea and finally brought the teacup the rest of the way, dunking the bristles of his mu...
When I Cracked
I cracked. After twenty-seven hours of near non-stop torture, I cracked, and the biggest secret of my life slowly slipped from between my lips.I was strapped to a chair in the middle of an empty, windowless room. A single lightbulb dangled from the ceiling and shed its harsh light upon me and my torturer who was preparing to rip the fingernail off of my right index finger.“Are you a member of the CIA?” Screamed the wild-eyed, bearded jihadist as the pliers he was clenching in his right hand began to rock back-and-forth, loosening the nail from my finger. This was the fourth nail he had gone to...
The Hitman's Hart
I watched her through the scope, my elbows resting on the ninth floor window ledge. The crosshairs painted a red ex on the back of her head as she sat at her desk, working late again. My finger brushed the trigger, but then pulled back and rested lightly on the trigger guard. Now was not the time. I still had the rest of the week, I told myself. Today www.onedoor.ccI’d be tracking her patterns, just like I had been doing for the past four days. Her slender fingers tapped a staccato rhythm on her desk as she poured over the papers before her. The light over her desk cast a dull glow, bringing out the red hi...
Wyatt’s Journey
Once there was a little boy. His name was Wyatt. Wyatt was not like other little boys, he liked going on adventures, and he didn’t really fit in. One day he was walking along the forest when he saw an old Treasure chest no bigger than a shoe box, half buried in the soil, But the lock was broken. He started walking towards it to take a closer look. “Well,no booby traps here” he said. When he Opened the chest, he found a small machine that seemed to be controlled by a little crystal that was slightly rose tinted. He picked it up and studied it for a moment, before noticing a small scrap of paper...