The man sat, cowering in his place on the alley floor.

Another shadow towered over him, coupled with the murderous gleam of a firearm in the dim lighting of the slum.

The barrel of the gun faced the human on the floor, and the neurons in the standing man’s brain sent the message to his finger; which in turn pulled the trigger.

There was a soft, muffled sort of sound, and a splash of crimson.

A gloved hand undid the gun which had once rested on the barrel of the weapon. The man pocketed the firearm, and walked casually out of the alley, like it was a normal Friday.

Short and sweet.