A killer look

Everything we see has meaning to it, everything we see we perceive; we understand and make meaning of. But what if what see before us was just a target. Everything we see was so accurate so focussed that all we could do was set it as a target. Some might turn this into a way to be good at sport, hit a ball well, hit a goal well. Some might even turn to become a soldier and do it for their country, in the hope of protecting their loved ones. Some don’t always have a choice.

Peter grew up in Chicago, it wasn’t the easiest place for him to be as a kid, he would often find himself in trouble, in the wrong company, missing school. It wasn’t always his choice, but it was the only place where he would be openly accepted with no discrimination or problems. It almost grew on him. He always had a good eye. Whether it was shooting a basketball, bowling pins, or even shooting. It was pretty normal for him to be around them since he turned around 12. His elder brother matt would try to keep him out of this business, but peter couldn’t find shelter anywhere else. Matt didn’t like that his younger brother was involved in the same business as him. It wasn’t business but that’s a name used to hide it.

He did not always like using the gun, but it was fun, the rush from hitting targets. The rush from hitting it right in the bullseye. The thrill of the noise blaring across the perimeter. The fact that everyone already knew that his shoot would hit the target. They called him pinpoint peter. It wasn’t very gangster but if you knew what it mean you would be scared. Because you wouldn’t know when the bullet crossed you. He was quiet, fast, and accurate. He would hit and disappear. Whoosh. Like a shadow. Some say the only thing you could see was the reflection of his eyes in the distance. That is what they called the killer look.

No peter was not a superhero or a villain. He was a local hitman that become one of the most sought-after paid killers in the world. A killer looks from him would cost you millions of dollars. Unless you could after the look you did not ask for it. Peter to himself was still the outcast little kid. He never actually made close-range shots because he was scared to mingle with people. And his fear of being in a group actually made him the strongest person alive. If you heard a singular sniper shot at night it was probably him. Because that was all he needed.

The police never caught him. He has been on the watchlist for a number of years. But he was not one to make mistakes. He was not one to create any form of buzz. Sometimes he would have to shoot down people he didn’t want to shoot down, but his wants were not much of his concern at the moment. His family never really knew him, his only friends also held guns and arms, but there was one. Someone he didn’t want to shoot ever. No matter the payment. He did not want to do it. She was his only friend. The only one that he ever spoke to and wasn’t mad. The only one he ever spoke to that accepted him for being different. The sad thing was that she was not far from the trigger either.

He met her when he was only sixteen. He even killed someone for her and didn’t charge anything. It wasn’t his best decision, but it was something he did without thinking of how it would impact. That was when it got complicated. Don Marino, one of his highest payers offered him 20 million dollars just to shoot her. Apparently, she stole money from his business. Peter was pretty confused. He didn’t know whether to shoot her and accept the money or to tell his best client a no. Don was concerned about this so sent one of his men over. To keep peter in the game.

They sat there in the building beside her apartment. it was dark, so dark that the singular street light felt like the sun. this was the first time ever in his life that enters hand was shaking as he picked up the sniper. He never used a scope or any kind of glasses. It was just one look. He saw her in the window. He didn’t waste a second. Shot. He missed. Another one. Shot. He missed. Don’s guy slapped him and told him to shoot again. Shot. He missed again. He couldn’t do it. She meant more to him than a sum of 20 million. Even if it meant his name as a sniper being dragged through the mud. Don had peter killed next week. But at least he got to look at her the last time with no intent to kill.