Trajectory set, object aimed, Bullets slicing through the air.
Her eyes picking up a speck of light, Heading her way, fierce and fast at sight. Milliseconds counted, time runs ahead No time to cry or catch her breath. Her cortex incapable to process a thought, Fight or flight, adrenal rush surging thru her veins.
Bullet strikes, bulls eye aim, Right between the space Where her soul finds no escape. Searing impulses, noxious and stale, Only to be silenced halfway.