Published Sep 24th, 2017, 9/24/17 2:48 pm
- 1,211 views, 1 today
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158
Note, I will probably still be making edits to this skin. FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED!
HUGE HUGE HUGE thanks to Noobator for giving me this wonderful palette to work with. I may have added some colors (I can't remember hehe), so yeah, sorry bout that. This entire skin wouldn't be possible if it wasn't for you. Thanks so much, this palette was such a treat to work with.
Summary of the skin:
The skin is basically a combat suit used by hitmen. The suit comes with weapons, offers advanced speed and agility, and makes you stronger. The suit is almost completely bulletproof because of the titanium armor that makes up 90% of the suit. Wearing this suit makes you pretty much unstoppable.
Just a quick message. The story below is very graphic and may be hard to handle for others. It involves losing a loved one. So if you have lost a loved one recently, or a long time ago, but it still affects you, please do not read this story. This story was very hard to write because I cannot imagine what it feels like to lose one of the most important people in your life. Thank you for reading, and carry on if you wish.
HUGE HUGE HUGE thanks to Noobator for giving me this wonderful palette to work with. I may have added some colors (I can't remember hehe), so yeah, sorry bout that. This entire skin wouldn't be possible if it wasn't for you. Thanks so much, this palette was such a treat to work with.
Summary of the skin:
The skin is basically a combat suit used by hitmen. The suit comes with weapons, offers advanced speed and agility, and makes you stronger. The suit is almost completely bulletproof because of the titanium armor that makes up 90% of the suit. Wearing this suit makes you pretty much unstoppable.
Just a quick message. The story below is very graphic and may be hard to handle for others. It involves losing a loved one. So if you have lost a loved one recently, or a long time ago, but it still affects you, please do not read this story. This story was very hard to write because I cannot imagine what it feels like to lose one of the most important people in your life. Thank you for reading, and carry on if you wish.
Story.
After years of training, I have become a professional hitman, and tonight was my first mission. I was given the information about my target: Female, green eyes, brown hair, about 5'10", wearing white skinny jeans and a white jacket, mid 40's, and approximately 135 pounds. I sit patiently, perched on top of a tall building, overlooking the city. The beautiful, bright lights from the buildings and billboards scattered everywhere, give the city life. I wait for about an hour where I was told my target would be, until I see her. She's exiting a mall, with a bag clutched in her hand, and she looks as if she's in a rush. She quickly enters her vehicle and starts driving unusually fast. I move swiftly along the rooftops, trying my best to keep up with the vehicle's sharp turns and fast speed. She drives around the city for about 10 minutes until the vehicle comes to a stop outside of another building. She steps out of the vehicle, with the bag still clutched in her hand. This time, she looks like she is in more of a rush. She steps into a dark alleyway and begins to run. Has she figured me out? I jump down from the building I was quietly watching her from, and I spring into action. I start off doing a light jog that quickly turns into a full-blown sprint towards my target. I have my gun ready to fire, but all I need is a clear shot. She hears my heavy footsteps and begins to run even faster, so I have to pick up my speed as well. I notice that we are coming to the end of the alleyway, so I raise my gun and fire a shot. The sound of her body hitting the ground echoes off the walls of the enclosed space. My first mission was a success. I was about to turn around and leave, when a slight groan made me think otherwise. I walk over, gun ready to fire once more, and as I'm getting closer, I begin to make out the appearance of my target. I stop immediately, unable to move. I cannot believe what I have just done.
I didn't just shoot my target, I shot my mother.
After standing there for a minute, I finally get feeling in my body again, and run over to her helpless body on the ground. She has lost too much blood and there is no saving her. The bullet has pierced one of her lungs, and I watch as the blood leaves the gunshot wound and is absorbed by her jacket. The jacket is no longer white, it's blood red. I cannot bring myself to say anything because I am still trying to process the current situation. She is no longer making sounds or breathing, she is dead. I can't even cry because I don't believe that this is happening. It is until I feel my body slowly collapse that I realize that this is real. I see that the bag is still in her hand. I reach over and take the bag from her lifeless hand and look inside. I find an envelope inside with my name on it. "Zack". I open the envelope and break down into tears. Inside the envelope is a card. It reads on the front "Happy Birthday!". I open the card and begin to read. "Happy Birthday to the best son in the entire world! I love you with all my heart and I hope you have a great day my love, because you deserve it. Love, Mom." My birthday was the next day. I look up, and I see that outside of the alleyway, across the street is a bakery. She was on her way to pick up a cake for me before the bakery closed. A stampede of emotions rise over me. Guilt, anger, sadness, disgust, pity, and fear. What will I do now? Millions of thoughts rush through my mind. Who would order a hit on my mother? What did she do wrong? There is no use hunting down the person who ordered a hit on my mother, because I don't believe in revenge. Killing the person who ordered the hit won't fix anything. It won't bring my mother back. Now I just sit here in this alleyway. Helpless, broken, and scared. I take off my helmet and take in a long, heavy breath of the air around me. Tears stream down my face and lightly fall onto the ground below me. I set my helmet down on the ground and see myself in the reflection of the visor. I am disgusted by the image of myself. I must put an end to all of this. I pop open the chamber on the gun mounted on my arm and see only one bullet remains. I know what I must do.
I didn't just shoot my target, I shot my mother.
After standing there for a minute, I finally get feeling in my body again, and run over to her helpless body on the ground. She has lost too much blood and there is no saving her. The bullet has pierced one of her lungs, and I watch as the blood leaves the gunshot wound and is absorbed by her jacket. The jacket is no longer white, it's blood red. I cannot bring myself to say anything because I am still trying to process the current situation. She is no longer making sounds or breathing, she is dead. I can't even cry because I don't believe that this is happening. It is until I feel my body slowly collapse that I realize that this is real. I see that the bag is still in her hand. I reach over and take the bag from her lifeless hand and look inside. I find an envelope inside with my name on it. "Zack". I open the envelope and break down into tears. Inside the envelope is a card. It reads on the front "Happy Birthday!". I open the card and begin to read. "Happy Birthday to the best son in the entire world! I love you with all my heart and I hope you have a great day my love, because you deserve it. Love, Mom." My birthday was the next day. I look up, and I see that outside of the alleyway, across the street is a bakery. She was on her way to pick up a cake for me before the bakery closed. A stampede of emotions rise over me. Guilt, anger, sadness, disgust, pity, and fear. What will I do now? Millions of thoughts rush through my mind. Who would order a hit on my mother? What did she do wrong? There is no use hunting down the person who ordered a hit on my mother, because I don't believe in revenge. Killing the person who ordered the hit won't fix anything. It won't bring my mother back. Now I just sit here in this alleyway. Helpless, broken, and scared. I take off my helmet and take in a long, heavy breath of the air around me. Tears stream down my face and lightly fall onto the ground below me. I set my helmet down on the ground and see myself in the reflection of the visor. I am disgusted by the image of myself. I must put an end to all of this. I pop open the chamber on the gun mounted on my arm and see only one bullet remains. I know what I must do.
| Credit | Noobator |
| Gender | Male |
| Format | Java |
| Model | Steve |
| Tags |
tools/tracking
4023517
5
cyber-hitman-contest
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Eh, didn't cry
Good skin! It looks great!
I'll stop
Good luck in the contest. :)