Congratulations Mr Foote on your 50th story published by Literally Stories.
The New Springfield 7.62×51mm sniper, SO, with Inversion Camera Scope has perfect balance, elegantly carved walnut stocks, precision parts, outstanding reliability, and incredible accuracy. It fits hands, shoulder, face, and eyes like an extension of the body. It’s an exceptionally fine tool for killing people at long range.
The left side profile of Lang Kim’s head was square in my sight. The pull of my pointer finger only a fraction of an inch towards me would blast a 5½ inch .50 caliber round through his brain. As I was trained, I lay as a stone, forcing shallow breaths of air in and out of my lungs to minimize movement. There would be no suffering. He wouldn’t know what hit him. I often thought about that split second when life left the bodies of the victims I killed, wondering which realm of the theoretical afterlives their souls entered (heaven, hell, purgatory) – if one existed at all. It didn’t matter. I forced the thought out of my mind. Do not think with your emotions, I was trained. I was a killing machine. Through psychological regimens, I grew numb to the emotional pains that entomb most ordinary people. And as stark a confession it is, I felt free. Free from sorrow, from grief. Guilt was as far away from me about killing as a distant galaxy. I was cold. And had I any emotion in me at all, I would have recognized my state as love, the love of killing without the slightest remorse. I had no wife and no children. An orphan with no-one to experience these things called emotions with; if it were ever possible for them to dwell in me at all.