Sequel: Black Roses ›
Status: On-going
White Roses
Chapter Three
Target: Andrew Dixon
Gender: Male
Age: 47
Location: Northern Georgia
Instruction: Kill once intel is gathered.
Rose laid on her belly watching through her scope as the group of men loaded cocaine from one truck to another. She was on the rooftop of a building three hundred feet away from her target in Atlanta, Georgia. She had followed Andrew Dixon from his mountain home all the way into Atlanta, Georgia. He was obviously a major distributor and was supplying a local gang a ridiculous amount of illegal drugs. But she wasn't really sure why he needed to be assassinated. It didn't really matter anyway. It wasn't her place to question or challenge what she was told to do. She saw through her scope that Andrew Dixon was accompanied by his cousin, a taller male with thinning brown hair and a nose that never healed right. The cousin was in his late thirties or early forties and Rose didn't like him.
Rose took an immediate dislike for anybody that she ever came across anyway. But these Dixons were uneducated, ill-tempered, racist, misogynistic, violent, and volatile. She also can tell that the cousin was ex-military by the way he behaved and carried himself. The men entered an warehouse, moving out of her sight. Rose took this opportunity to sit up and stretch her tired muscles, glancing at her laptop screen. Video monitors were too easy to hack in. She had already previously hacked into the warehouse's monitors earlier so she could see everything that was going on inside.
Her missions had taken her all over the world. Rose completed her first mission when she was twelve years old. She was ordered to kill her trainer, Logan. Logan became the one that she had became quite attached to regardless how cruel he really was. But she didn't really think about it. Her upbringing didn't teach her right from wrong. Logan didn't teach her how to feel anguish or regret. The missions had became a release for Rose over time. At least when she was on these missions, she didn't have to suffer. She didn't get beaten. She didn't have unwelcome visitors in her bed. She didn't have to go through torture.
Six years later, there's been a staggering 837 missions and over 900 deaths that was dealt by her hands. Rose was only eighteen years old and she knew no other life but this shitty and terrible life. Not that she knew it anyway. No... she won't find out how terrible her life was until years later. The laptop screen revealed that the Dixon boys were getting ready to leave the warehouse and probably back to their mountain homes. Rose sighed, making sure her hair was pulled back and laid back on her belly. The scope was attached to a sniper rifle. She already got the intel that she needed from Andrew Dixon and now he had to be killed. Rose took a deep breath and steadied herself, waiting for the cousin to move out of the way.
She felt the recoil from the gun when her finger pressed the trigger. The sound of a single bullet releasing was only in her head due to the silencer. But Rose was so used to the sound that she found comfort in it. Another glance into the scope confirmed Andrew Dixon's death. Rose hopped up, dismantling the sniper rifle while her eyes scanned nearby buildings. She needed to calculate possible trajectories that she needed in order to move. Rose needed to be in her safe house before the police get alerted. After cleaning up her vantage point, she pulled up her black hoodie covering her face and embraced herself for the hard jump. For few seconds, Rose felt her body in air. It was her favorite feeling ever. As if she was flying. But gravity took over and she felt her body hurdling towards the rooftop. The impact ran up through Rose's body, protesting but she was indifferent to that kind of pain. That was nothing.
Twenty minutes later, Rose found herself in front of a condemned warehouse on the outskirts of Atlanta. All of the windows were boarded up and the door was locked with a combination lock. A big yellow sign was plastered on the door stating that it was condemned and ordered trespassers to keep out. This was her safe house for the night. The inside of the building told a different story. When she first stepped in, she saw a typical condemned building with graffiti everywhere. But after looking for a false wall and opening it, a state of art place was revealed. The walls, floors, and ceilings were reinforced with steel and there were four small rooms. A tiny bedroom with a twin bed and table, a bathroom just big enough to fit all the necessities in it, a main room with a kitchenette and desk area and an interrogation room.
"Target has been neutralized safely." Before even relaxing, she had to use a new burner phone and confirm Andrew Dixon's death. Rose stretched her muscles and decided to take a shower. Quiet moments like this was why Rose didn't hesitate to kill her targets. The faster they were capitated, the quicker she could just do nothing and relax before she was needed again.
After taking a shower, Rose found herself staring at that unfamiliar girl in the mirror yet it mimicked every movement she made. It was like the girl in the mirror was taunting her. She wasn't the conventional beauty. She never was. Her wet long red hair was just returning to its curly glory. Rose glanced up to look at her eyes. Her eyes was her very own worst attributes and an unfortunate result of being a genetically engineered baby. Mr. Wallington insisted that she wore contacts while completing her missions because apparently it startles people when they see her eyes. Rose's left iris was unmistakably green but her right iris was also unmistakably blue.
She knew she was attractive. It was easy enough to entice her male targets with her body and her looks. It just wasn't the way that girls looked in the magazine. Rose wasn't skinny but not exactly curvy. She was extremely muscled from years and years of training. However her breasts were definitely curvy. Ever since the age of thirteen, Rose had a hard time keeping them intact in sport bras and often wore bandages while training or doing high-intensity activities. Rose sighed, deciding to stop fixating on herself. She turned her attention onto her black outfit that was laying on the floor in a bundle. She probably should wash them.
The thought of the Dixons were far out of her mind. It wasn't until many years later, she remembered Andrew Dixon and that sour cousin of his.
Gender: Male
Age: 47
Location: Northern Georgia
Instruction: Kill once intel is gathered.
Rose laid on her belly watching through her scope as the group of men loaded cocaine from one truck to another. She was on the rooftop of a building three hundred feet away from her target in Atlanta, Georgia. She had followed Andrew Dixon from his mountain home all the way into Atlanta, Georgia. He was obviously a major distributor and was supplying a local gang a ridiculous amount of illegal drugs. But she wasn't really sure why he needed to be assassinated. It didn't really matter anyway. It wasn't her place to question or challenge what she was told to do. She saw through her scope that Andrew Dixon was accompanied by his cousin, a taller male with thinning brown hair and a nose that never healed right. The cousin was in his late thirties or early forties and Rose didn't like him.
Rose took an immediate dislike for anybody that she ever came across anyway. But these Dixons were uneducated, ill-tempered, racist, misogynistic, violent, and volatile. She also can tell that the cousin was ex-military by the way he behaved and carried himself. The men entered an warehouse, moving out of her sight. Rose took this opportunity to sit up and stretch her tired muscles, glancing at her laptop screen. Video monitors were too easy to hack in. She had already previously hacked into the warehouse's monitors earlier so she could see everything that was going on inside.
Her missions had taken her all over the world. Rose completed her first mission when she was twelve years old. She was ordered to kill her trainer, Logan. Logan became the one that she had became quite attached to regardless how cruel he really was. But she didn't really think about it. Her upbringing didn't teach her right from wrong. Logan didn't teach her how to feel anguish or regret. The missions had became a release for Rose over time. At least when she was on these missions, she didn't have to suffer. She didn't get beaten. She didn't have unwelcome visitors in her bed. She didn't have to go through torture.
Six years later, there's been a staggering 837 missions and over 900 deaths that was dealt by her hands. Rose was only eighteen years old and she knew no other life but this shitty and terrible life. Not that she knew it anyway. No... she won't find out how terrible her life was until years later. The laptop screen revealed that the Dixon boys were getting ready to leave the warehouse and probably back to their mountain homes. Rose sighed, making sure her hair was pulled back and laid back on her belly. The scope was attached to a sniper rifle. She already got the intel that she needed from Andrew Dixon and now he had to be killed. Rose took a deep breath and steadied herself, waiting for the cousin to move out of the way.
She felt the recoil from the gun when her finger pressed the trigger. The sound of a single bullet releasing was only in her head due to the silencer. But Rose was so used to the sound that she found comfort in it. Another glance into the scope confirmed Andrew Dixon's death. Rose hopped up, dismantling the sniper rifle while her eyes scanned nearby buildings. She needed to calculate possible trajectories that she needed in order to move. Rose needed to be in her safe house before the police get alerted. After cleaning up her vantage point, she pulled up her black hoodie covering her face and embraced herself for the hard jump. For few seconds, Rose felt her body in air. It was her favorite feeling ever. As if she was flying. But gravity took over and she felt her body hurdling towards the rooftop. The impact ran up through Rose's body, protesting but she was indifferent to that kind of pain. That was nothing.
Twenty minutes later, Rose found herself in front of a condemned warehouse on the outskirts of Atlanta. All of the windows were boarded up and the door was locked with a combination lock. A big yellow sign was plastered on the door stating that it was condemned and ordered trespassers to keep out. This was her safe house for the night. The inside of the building told a different story. When she first stepped in, she saw a typical condemned building with graffiti everywhere. But after looking for a false wall and opening it, a state of art place was revealed. The walls, floors, and ceilings were reinforced with steel and there were four small rooms. A tiny bedroom with a twin bed and table, a bathroom just big enough to fit all the necessities in it, a main room with a kitchenette and desk area and an interrogation room.
"Target has been neutralized safely." Before even relaxing, she had to use a new burner phone and confirm Andrew Dixon's death. Rose stretched her muscles and decided to take a shower. Quiet moments like this was why Rose didn't hesitate to kill her targets. The faster they were capitated, the quicker she could just do nothing and relax before she was needed again.
After taking a shower, Rose found herself staring at that unfamiliar girl in the mirror yet it mimicked every movement she made. It was like the girl in the mirror was taunting her. She wasn't the conventional beauty. She never was. Her wet long red hair was just returning to its curly glory. Rose glanced up to look at her eyes. Her eyes was her very own worst attributes and an unfortunate result of being a genetically engineered baby. Mr. Wallington insisted that she wore contacts while completing her missions because apparently it startles people when they see her eyes. Rose's left iris was unmistakably green but her right iris was also unmistakably blue.
She knew she was attractive. It was easy enough to entice her male targets with her body and her looks. It just wasn't the way that girls looked in the magazine. Rose wasn't skinny but not exactly curvy. She was extremely muscled from years and years of training. However her breasts were definitely curvy. Ever since the age of thirteen, Rose had a hard time keeping them intact in sport bras and often wore bandages while training or doing high-intensity activities. Rose sighed, deciding to stop fixating on herself. She turned her attention onto her black outfit that was laying on the floor in a bundle. She probably should wash them.
The thought of the Dixons were far out of her mind. It wasn't until many years later, she remembered Andrew Dixon and that sour cousin of his.
♠ ♠ ♠
My old readers... I'm sure you'd appreciate the allusion. ;-) Who do you think the cousin was?My new readers... Just in case if you didn't know... this is walking dead/ Daryl Dixon fan-fiction.
As always... please COMMENT! :-) Let me know what you're thinking.
Rose's outfit today: Sniper Rose