THROUGH THE CROSSHAIRS

Deaths by shooting

    The view through my scope is worth looking at. The condemned woman has a nice body. She is tall with largish tits that stand proudly on her chest. Except for those large boobs and her nicely rounded ass she has almost no fat on her body. I can see the lines of her muscles and I watch them move and slide as she walks. She is a trophy all right. I check the number tattooed on her chest. Yes it is the right one. The rifle’s stock is warm as I check my meld to it. She stops and stretches. My trigger finger acts almost of its own accord. The gun bucks against my shoulder.  I ride the recoil and return the scope just in time to see the slug hit. A sudden blossoming of blood as her left nipple is destroyed by the hollow point bullet. For just a split second she stands. A look of surprise starts to show on her face as the red mist spreads behind her. Part of that mist is heart tissue. Then she falls. She hits the ground with that boneless finality of death. Not even a twitch mars the picture as I watch.

    I’m nervous. I’ve never been given firing squad  duty before. Its supposed to be an honor. A recognition that you are a good trustworthy man and able to perform under pressure. Maybe it is but I’m still nervous. There are only six of us and we have two to execute so we will shoot them one at a time. I  wish I had met either of the women in a bar. Both were quite good looking. The first one to die is a short gal. One of those that pack a six foot body into five feet. You know the type, big tits, small waist, nice ass but all close together. The other one is slender and almost boyish but still sexy as hell. Both have a spot of paint on their chests to give us an aiming point. As if we need it. All six of us know perfectly well where the heart is and how to shoot it but I guess its tradition or something.  The commands come. Ready, I work the bolt and chamber a round. Aim, I look through the sights and find that spot of paint that covers her heart. I have time to admire her full body one last time. At fire I squeeze the trigger just as I had learned so long ago. The rifle kicks my shoulder. Her body slams back against the post and then falls forward limply. I can see the six exit wounds centered in her back. Her heart has to be blown to pieces. Again the commands and again I am looking at what will be a dead body within seconds. She is not standing quietly as the other one did. She is screaming and fighting. Her body struggling against the ropes but it is hopeless. We fire. I can see blood and wood splinters flying behind her as she repeats the movements I had just witnessed earlier. But she does not have the same neat grouping of holes in her back. Her frantic battle made her a very hard target and we failed to kill her cleanly. She still breathes. Her head tries to lift and I can hear her moans. The captain walks up to her and pulls his pistol. Her head jumps as the round blows through her brain to end her suffering. I have just killed two helpless women that I did not even know. I enjoyed it.

    There they were, both mother and daughter. Enjoying the pool. The pool that was only a small part of what they had stolen from men that had fallen into their trap. It was the same every time. A whirlwind romance, a wedding, a short time of married bliss and then the threat of jail when the young daughter claims to have been abused. Fro a large amount of money the whole thing can go away and it always does. Until now. The person that hired me is acting for at least one and maybe more of the victims. Finally justice will descend on these two. Mom is standing at the edge of the pool when my slug hit her. The impact of the bullet in her belly knocks her into the water. The kid stands dumbfounded. My second shot strikes her just above the top of her tiny bikini bottom and she too goes down. Mom struggles to the surface and tries to stand but all she can do is grip the side of the pool. If she were not in the shallow end she would be drowning by now. Both scream in pain, unable to understand what has happened. Since I had used a silencer I was able to stay and watch. It takes several minutes before mom loses her grip and slides down out of sight. The pool surface shows the unseen struggle as she fights to keep her head above the water but soon the waves become ripples and then the surface stills. The body floats into view. Her face is underwater and a red stain fouls the clear water. Just to be sure I fire one more round into that scheming head and it explodes under the impact. I look at the young cunt. She had given up screaming and is laying quietly. She is lying on her back with her crotch toward me. I sent a last bullet toward her. It hits her right in her pussy and ranges up through her body. She jumps with the impact. Within seconds I see the sudden limpness that signals death. I suspect there will be quiet celebrations when the word of their murders gets out. [written for a friend that ran into a pair of bitches like this years ago.]

    I knew she had to be somewhere nearby. The birds had stopped singing and there had been that snap of a twig. The spring I was set up by was after all the only fresh water on the island and she had to come sooner or later. We both knew it. My blind was as far away from the water as I could get it and I even had a hard time finding it. I doubted she would see it until too late. There, a branch is slowly pushed aside. A face comes into view. I watch her out of the corner of my eye. Hunted game can feel a stare you know. She very slowly looks everywhere and for anything that might signal danger. I admire her. She is one of the good ones,  both beautiful and careful, a worthy trophy indeed. I had played a dirty trick on her though. I had set up a phony blind that I expected her to find and she had. Since she had no way of knowing if I was even on the island I expected the empty hide to comfort her and make her feel a little safer. I had shot at her and missed before so even with the empty blind she would be careful. What she did not know was I had missed because I wanted to. I wished her to become a harder target and she had. I had tried several times before now and had not gotten a shot. Today would end the game. I kept the crosshairs on her as she moved slowly and carefully to the water. I allowed her to drink her fill. She had earned that much at least. I thought back to the times when she was just a play toy for my wants. Her fine body had suffered much from my lusts and she became a favorite but like all toys the new soon wore off and I grew tired of her. I allowed her to escape as a  means of prolonging my fun. Now all I needed to do was gently pull the trigger and it would be over. I debated gut shooting her and having her one last time as she died but I decided she had been too good to treat her that way. She was facing me as she laid on her belly drinking. I settled the crosshairs on the top of her shoulder and whistled softly. Her head snapped up just in time to see the flash of light burst from the muzzle. The slug hit exactly where I wished. Plunging through her shoulder and ranging down into her torso to end up lodged in her upper thigh. Along the way it destroyed her heart, blew her lung open, spilled her stomach contents, opened her intestines, shattered her liver, and killed her right on the spot. All she did was jump a bit from the impact and then relax into death. A very nice kill, I owed her that for all the pleasure she had given me.