In the silence of the night.

At the stroke of midnight, is when he starts working. He sat in a dimly lit room in an apartment flat. He talked very less. He was more of a man of action. He glimpsed the photo of a man on the coffee table by the window as the wind made its way through it making the curtains fly away in silence of the night. He was waiting for someone. As the car made its way into the apartment parking lot, he became alert. He pulled out his gun and the silencer made its way to the head of the gun. The man twisted the keys to his apartment, not knowing what waited him , his fate. He kept his keys on the stand and made his way to the dining room. He stopped short when he saw him. He knew at that instant what was going to happen. He fell on his knees, kissed the cross necklace across his neck and said a silent prayer. The man fell down on the white Italian carpet as it slowly turned red. Nobody would have guess that someone had died in the very apartment that night. He exited swiftly from the front door, leaving no trace.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.