The Secret Plotter

0.05| Can't Wait to Tell This Story To my Grandchildren

<1956>
Tomsk, Russia

Young girl sat near the window. She saw them. She knew it all, along with her brothers. Something was about to happend.

Something bad...

...and it did.

Men in tactical gear came on Jeeps and *bam* the doors were kicked open. Those bastards took as many children as they could and left the orphanage destroyed and unprotected. There were few survivors, that were left to die and for those who weren't so fortunate...

...the fate worser that death was awaiting them

<1960>
Unknown location, Russia

The same girl was now in an indoor pool. If you ask, what would this girl be doing in a pool in the middle of Russia?

Yes, you guessed well.

It was her punishment.

The water was deep and dark. Something touched her leg. Again. She screamed as panic started to arise. It wouldn't be her first time when something had bitten her leg and pulled her under water. A lot of scars littered her body, but the most prominent were always at her legs.

She was holding on a thin metal pipe like her life depended on it...

and trust me it did.

It was her sixth hour in there and her petite body was terribly exhausted.

Maybe it's my own mind playing tricks on me and there it's nothing in the water only by myself.

Oh, how wrong she was. The same moment she was being pulled down to the bottom of the pool. She couldn't see anything, the water was too dark.

She tried kicking the beast, it rarely worked before, and it didn't worked this time too.

This is where I die?

She was ready to give up.

But what about my brothers?

The lack of oxygen had started to take an effect. Her eyelids started to get heavier and her small lungs started burning.

Her fight with the beast was already lost. Her vision had turned black.

<April 4th 1968>
Memphis, Tennesee

Target:
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

While Dr. King was giving his short speech on an open balcony, he wouldn't never suspect that at the roof of the nearby building was sharpshooter.

One hell of a sharpshooter, to be exact. Not to mention, he was trained to be
fast, deadly and precise even for a long distances.

Bang!

The bullet had found it's target.

"Target eliminated" he announced to a walkie-talkie

"Are you sure? It wasn't a clean shot".