Irrsinn.net: taking joy in human unreason

Lost Prey

Kyra leaned back against the wall, blinking rain water from her eyes and silently cursing the weather. Her pistol was held low as she sidled towards the corner of the building. If this bastard gets away...

Crouching low, she quickly looked around the corner. Gone. Shit.

Shifting around the corner, Kyra impatiently brushed soaking wet hair from her cheek with one hand while keeping her pistol pointed down. Wouldn't want any normal people that might stumble upon her to think there could be violence in their pristine — and wet — neighborhood.

There were no sounds in the alley. She sniffed; it was near-useless in all this rain, but her prey was... tangy. I've lost him. Damnit.

On the side of a nearby dumpster was taped a soggy note, written in a strong hand and with a strongly-scented marker. "Better luck next time, my dear. —W"

Standing up, Kyra slipped her pistol into the back of her pants and strolled out of the alley and into the street. Her boss was going to be pissed, but at least she could get off this damned water-logged planet.

Next story: Hot and Heavy

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Irrsinn.net by Melissa Avery-Weir is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. The fiction segment of this site is driven by Elf Sternberg's Narrator system.