Bodies dropped. One after the other, which was quickly followed by the small explosion of the bullets on impact.
The result was a chain of head explosions. Vivid, and strong. Carrying the weight of her aim.
Their heads erupted into a fountain of blood and flesh that was quickly consumed by the fog of the smoke emitted after the explosion.
Followed by the fall of their dysfunctional body. One after the other, they fell off the platform, leaving a gaping hole in the hearts of the other Masked figures alive and strong.
Four men fell, leaving one more who stood with his blood-soaked body.
Pain throbbing through his body from the edges of each explosion which struck him.
He was the man who had led them a moment ago, only to be left alone. Against their supposed captive.
Though at this point, she was no longer referred to as that.
Something different lingered in their heads as they watched their comrades fall from her skills.
