He press the trigger.

She survived.

She was the target.

He had his gun in hand ready to shoot.

She was an invincible watchtower.

He lived to be the center of the universe.

She claimed it was an open opportunity.

He said it was all a game. All fun no work.

She was there in plain sight.

He couldn't see who she really was.

She was the ice princess.

He was determined to melt her.

She was new to the game, but willing to learn.

He was not as naive and foolish as thought,

They were the Reapers.

They were the Dark Angels.

Two teams of Elite assassin groups living in one city. Two groups of friends surviving the war from hell. It was kill or be kill. Chaos, damage, lethal moves, loyalty, and strategy were part of the job. But fun in the sun wasn't forbidden. That was until they began to fall in love.

--

The shady gloomy alley remained an vacant desolated wasteland. It was the hour of the Reapers. The demons. The vivid city lights didn't reach these parts. They were situated in the pit of the underworld. The Underworld remained veiled from the universe, for now.

The air was cool and weary. A storm was approaching, fast. The clouds moved above, shady heavy weights waiting to reek havoc down on the pitiless world.

A pair of lone footsteps ran through. They were panic, terrified, stupid. The footsteps belong to a man with a snake tattoo lined on his neck, a permanent reminder of the world he was cast into.

He stopped in the mist of silence. They were there. Trouncing in the shadows of the dark.

They were ghost, legends, myths. The Reapers. A pair of footsteps stepped out. Heavy black military boots echoed through the alley. His face remained a mystery. All their faces remained mysteries.

"Wait, wait...I...I" The man struggled for words. He struggled for some sort of justification of his actions to keep him from death. He was an sinful man. One who should had died ages ago. Heartless. Merciless. Inhumane.

Another pair of heavy steps appeared from behind him. Chills went up his spine as they slowly molded his feet to the group. As if roots appeared, he was grounded in that really spot, stuck. Soon another set of steps followed. Another faceless figure. All in black. All a mystery, for no one knew of their identities. No one knew of their faces.

It was a quick click of metal. A short paused before the gun was lifted. A pair of fingers, covered in black leather gloves were on the trigger. A smirk appeared on one of their faces, but that remained unseen to everyone but the owner of the smirk.

"Say goodnight." A deep husky voice spoke before the gun went off leaving a echo that spread through the alley.

A bang of thunder zapping through the alley followed by the sound of gods mightiest thunder pounds, drowned out the gunshot. The body slowly lurch to the ground. Bloody. Dead.

The seven figures remained motionless. They were motionless as the wind caught up and blew in their direction. One by one each left the scene. Each turning back to the shadows as they provided protection.

Slowly the pair of honey eyes looked up. She smirked. Her eyes leaving the scene of the dead body. The wind hit her face as she stood on the edge of the building. Her face was her mask. Her mask to keep the world from knowing who she truly was.

Of course they were good, they were the Reapers after all. The elite assassin group that towered over all the others, watching and lurking in the shadows. The best killers, known for their crazy street races, fast kills, brutal threats, feared names and mysterious forms that no one could figure out.

She turned around, strands of her luscious black hair flew in the wind. Her eyes dazzling with great mischief. They were the eyes of a vixen ready to hound for prey. She met eye and eye with another figure, another girl, a friend. A sneer was also visible on the other girl's face.

"Its nice to be back." She sang. The laughter of five other girls could be heard loud and proud in the background as thunder pound down to the Underworld.

Thanks to Lazy Hedgehog for the poster and background.