/lit/ - Literature

The drizzle in front of the markman's sights made it impossible to properly aim, but, as he got hold of what appeared to be a target moving through the far-away distance, he readied himself to shooting; however, at that very same moment, as the finger pushed into the trigger he had a raptuous, terribly horrendous vision. He felt gripped, from his back to his shoulder, the form of Death herself, in the same uniform in which he fought in. The skeletal fingers and morbid bones forebode him a stark warning of the suffering he inflicted without him, and just as much as he realized he was behind those whom he thoughtlessly murder, he would soon join them as friends in Death.