The Hunters Enter the Woods

Delilah lay in the same spot for three days until the whispered call finally came through her earbud.

“North, two thousand meters, moving southwest.”

Slowly, calmly, Delilah took up her position behind her sniper rifle. Below the bluff where she crouched, the forest stretched for miles, dark and old and wary of intruders. She looked through her scope and tilted the gun, stopping when she reached the right distance, then rotated it to face north. From there it was simple to track southwest until she found the target.

Forty-two kills and she still wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing. She always told herself it was for the greater good, but after every kill she went home and showered for an hour before collapsing into a nightmare-plagued sleep.

Get it over with, she thought, watching her target. She ignored the kind brown eyes, the radiant white hair, and squeezed the trigger.

“Assignment complete.”

Delilah felt cold as the recovery helicopter flew in to pick up another dead unicorn.

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