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Alrik, Bringer of Justice

It had been two days. Two whole days, and still no sign of him.

Alrik spat out into the grass, adjusting the goggles back over his hair from where they had been over his eyes. Large indents marked his skin where the oversized pieces of metal had rested on his cheekbones. It was dusk, and the sky was murky twists of grey, red, and orange, stretching over above the man who hid in the brush of the forests. A chill wind flurried through the long grass beneath the cliffs he had skulked upon ever since he had been given the order.

He had enough food to last him another week. After that, he would be forced to move in a larger perimeter to scavenge. A feral snarl ripped from the sniper’s mouth as he adjusted his rifle, heaving it back to being slung between his shoulders, taking care that the remaining rays of sunlight did not glint upon the shined metal. It would do no good for his prey to catch sight of him before he had lined up his shot. After all, the part he enjoyed most was their look of fear, their realisation that judgement was swinging its hammer… Alrik gave one glance over the horizon, his reliving of those precious memories giving him the encouragement needed to keep watch for just one more moment.

And there. There it was, in the distance – the rising of dust, a speck of life in the wilderness. Nothing else would be coming this way.

Swinging his rifle back inbetween his hands, Alrik allowed himself the luxury of a wide smile before he began to disappear back into the trees, the light becoming his ally as it faded the sky into darkness.

Once his prey had reached the woods, the sky would be black; all they would see then would be the bright light of salvation.