The shots rang out into the night sky. No-one heard them. No matter how fast he thought he could run, he wasn't superman, he couldn't outrun the bullets no matter how much he knew his life depended on it. The first caught him in the back of his right calf, searing through the muscle tissue and shattering the bone, dropping him to one knee. With hims arm flailing around him, the second bullet hit him in the shoulder as he fell, turning him clean around to face his attacker.
He looked down at his chest, watching the blood on his shirt opening like a crimson rose flower unfurling it's petals to catch the sun. Laughing he looked into the face of his assailant, mocking them into firing again. The third shot would be from a closer range he knew that. The rage that was building in the assasin from being mocked was evident in their stance, screaming they fired.
The screaming died down leaving the sound of the clicking of the gun trying to fire one more bullet from its now empty magazine. Sight blurred by the aggression that was burning through his face, he had fired blindly in the direction of the target, stopping only when the anger had ebbed away and his vision had returned enough to see the mess that lay before him in an increasing pool of blood, the shooter realised that the clip was empty and the body was still, it was over and the assassination had been a success. Out of all the remaining bullets, less than half had actually hit the body, the rage had been so bad.
As the blood started to mix with the puddles in the alley, causing everything to retain a faint red stain, the sounds of the outside world started to seep back into the world of the assassin. Suddenly a door opened, bathing the scene in light.
Turning to run back into the dark anonimity that the city provides, the killer notices something shining up at from the gutter, forcing him to choose between risking a closer look and thus risking getting caught or just running and evading the truth that lay in the light, staring at him with empty eyes.