The world tilted violently. A strangled gasp escaped her lips, tasting metallic and thick. Her hand instinctively went to her shoulder, encountering not just pain but something slick and warm. Blood. A shocking crimson bloom against the grey of her tailored suit. It quickly soaked through, staining the fabric a deeper, darker hue.

Rain mingled with the blood, creating a viscous slurry on her skin. The city lights blurred into halos around the edges of her vision. A wave of nausea rolled over her, and she fought to stay upright, but her legs felt like waterlogged lead. She dropped to her knees, the cold pavement pressing against her skin through the thin fabric of her skirt.

Panic flared, a desperate, animal instinct screaming at her to *run*. But running was impossible. The pain was too intense, the wound too debilitating. Instead, she crawled. A slow, agonizing inching forward, driven by an instinctive need to escape, to find safety. Each movement sent jolts of agony through her shoulder and down her arm. The rough pavement scraped against her hands and knees, adding a fresh layer of pain to the already overwhelming sensation.

She managed perhaps six or seven feet, pulling herself with clumsy, desperate movements. The rain plastered her hair to her face, blurring her vision further. She could hear the distant wail of sirens now, but they seemed impossibly far away. A choked sob wracked her body.

Then came the second shot. It was faster this time, no warning crack, just a brutal impact against her back. The force sent her sprawling forward onto the rain-slicked pavement. This one… this one stole her breath. A white-hot agony consumed her entirely, and then a creeping numbness began to spread from her spine outwards.

She felt herself sliding, momentum carrying her further across the concrete. A crimson stain blossomed on the back of her suit, expanding rapidly. The rain washed over it, turning the pavement beneath her into a slick pool of red. Her vision tunneled, the world shrinking down to the grey expanse of the street and the blurry lights above.

The sirens grew louder, but their sound seemed distant, detached, as if happening to someone else. A single thought flickered through her fading consciousness: *He promised he would protect me.* Then, darkness.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5729049&forum_id=2:#48955465)

durr durr durr "The first shot was unexpected"

durr durr durr "Then came the second shot. It was faster this time, no warning crack"

yes, this makes sense

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5729049&forum_id=2:#48955468)

how about you address my criticisms

durr durr the second one came fasta, no cwak even though the first one was unexpected

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5729049&forum_id=2:#48955482)

he found it under a bridge and loved the feel of the circumcised cock ramming his loose asshole.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5729049&forum_id=2:#48955490)

how's the butthole?

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5729049&forum_id=2:#48955497)

the writing was terrible. i pointed out why.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5729049&forum_id=2:#48955503)

---------------

Sarah tightened her coat against the rain, the cool fabric clinging to her skin as she hurried through the museum’s atrium. The party had been lively— laughter and chatter echoing through the marble halls as guests mingled among towering displays of ancient artifacts. But now, with the city’s distant lightning flashes illuminating the fog-heavy streets, she was alone on the pavement.

The rain had turned to a downpour, drenching the sidewalks in shiny black slivers. Sarah glanced over her shoulder once more, her heart pounding like a war drum. She’d heard the whispers all week—something about a threat against diplomats, but she’d brushed it off, chalking it up to paranoia. Now, with the rain lashing at her face and the neon glow of street signs flickering in the distance, she felt a prickle of unease.

She pressed a hand to her pocket, where the thin notebook holding her notes on an obscure trade agreement jutted out. The diplomatic community was alive with secrets, and Sarah wasn’t about to let hers fall into the wrong hands. Her pace quickened, her heels clicking against the wet pavement like gunshots.

Then, the first shot came.

The sound was sharper than anything she’d ever heard—a sharp crack that sent a shiver down her spine. She froze, her breath hitching as she ducked behind an umbrella stand. A second shot rang out, closer this time, splintering the wood of the stand and sending fragments flying.

Sarah’s heart leapt into her throat. She turned, but there was no one in sight—just the shadowy silhouette of a figure darting into the mouth of an alley. Adrenaline surged through her veins, her mind racing with calculations. Diplomats were rarely targets, but this was a rainy Wednesday night in Washington, D.C., and the stakes had just been raised.

She pushed herself up from the pavement, her legs trembling under the weight of the decision. Blood seeped through the fabric of her coat where the first bullet had struck her. She pressed her hands against the wound, but the pain was numbing, overwhelming waves crashing over her senses like the rain.

“Don’t let them see you,” she muttered, though no one could hear her. Her vision blurred slightly from the rain and the shock, but she kept moving—each step a battle against the instinct to collapse. The shooter had shot her once, then again in the back, each bullet finding its mark with brutal precision.

Her fingers clawed at the pavement as she dragged herself forward, one inch, then another, her body trembling with exhaustion. She could feel the warmth of her blood pooling beneath her, a thick, sticky puddle that seemed to grow larger with each passing second. The rain mingled with it, turning the street into a crimson river.

She’d read once about the strength of the human spirit in moments of despair—how even when the body wanted to give up, the mind could push through. Sarah’s mind was a storm of determination, her voice a whisper in her ears, urging her forward.

“Don’t let them win,” she said, though she wasn’t sure who “they” were anymore. All she knew was that she couldn’t die here, not like this—not with the mission left undone.

Her hands clawed at the ground, her arms trembling as she pulled herself onto all fours. Another shot rang out, striking somewhere off to her right, the bullet whizzing past and splintering a nearby signpost. Shards of wood flew in all directions, one piece striking her cheek before embedding itself in the sidewalk.

Sarah swallowed hard, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to crawl forward. She could feel the life slipping away from her body, each movement growing more difficult, her muscles betraying her with violent cramps. But she pushed on—each inch a testament to her resolve, her determination to live despite the odds.

The city around her seemed to close in, the rain and the night pressing down on her like a suffocating shroud. Yet, even as darkness began to creep into her vision, Sarah’s mind remained sharp. She knew what she had to do—what she was born to do—and with each crawling foot, she poured every ounce of strength into it.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she reached the relative safety of a side alley. Her body sagged against the wet brick wall, her coat torn and bloodied from multiple wounds. The rain continued its relentless assault, washing away the blood but leaving behind the cold, biting reality of what had happened.

Sarah’s hands trembled as she fumbled for her phone, her voice barely above a whisper when she finally managed to dial emergency services. “I’m at the corner of—” she said, her breath hitching as she listed the address. “Send someone… please.”

The world around her seemed to tilt, the streetlights swimming in and out of focus as she slid down the wall. Her vision darkened at the edges, the last remnants of her strength ebbing away with each passing second.

And then, as the blackness claimed her, Sarah thought of the trade agreement—her notes, scattered somewhere among the exhibits. She hoped they were still there, that someone would find them and see to the negotiations before it was too late.

Her body went limp, her lifeless fingers still clutching at the phone she’d clung to through the final moments.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5729049&forum_id=2:#48955483)

The pavement was cold and abrasive beneath her knees as she forced herself forward. Each movement sent fresh waves of agony through her. She didn't understand why – why this was happening – only that she needed to get away, to find safety. The rain washed over the blood, a macabre sheen on the gray concrete. Cars hissed past, their headlights momentarily illuminating her desperate crawl. No one seemed to notice, or if they did, no one stopped.

She managed to drag herself about ten feet, the rough asphalt tearing at her hands and knees. The pain was a white-hot scream in her head, eclipsing everything but the primal urge to survive. She risked a glance down; the spreading stain on her dress was horrifyingly large now, darkening with each pulse of her weakening body.

Another shot. This one slammed into her back, just below the shoulder blades. The force of it stole her breath, sending a jolt of agony that paralyzed her limbs. She collapsed forward, the rain instantly mixing with the fresh torrent of blood gushing from the wound. The city sounds – the traffic, the distant sirens – seemed to fade as darkness crept in at the edges of her vision. Her fingers twitched once, then lay still on the cold, wet pavement.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5729049&forum_id=2:#48955493)