By: Timothy Pham

The sound of leaves crunching beneath their feet

Unknown to the bounty hunters, they were the hunted

The trees with their barren branches, still as the wind

Leaping from branch to branch silently, the assassin finds his vantage point

He leaps and quick as lightning, there is no longer the sound of crunching leaves

He etches his notorious initials on their broken armor, tainted with their blood

Breaking the silence, a shot rings out and echoes across the woods

Whistling as it rips through the air, it lands just nigh of the assassin’s foot

The assassin sends out his living shadow to get out of sight

A cruel laugh rings out echoing across the woods

His assailant is marked for death

The assassin appears right behind his assailant

Hatred burns in both of their eyes before the death mark finishes it’s purpose

Another initial, another corpse, another lesson