Scarlett Prose (part3)

She walked into the bus station
She'd given the last of her money to a beggar for his clothes 
So she could blend in with the rabble
She was coming and didn't want number three to know

She seen him talking with some men
Appears her friend was not alone
She painfully revisited that night
And how he licked his lips when he slit her throat

She sat next to a woman on a bench
And lifted her keys from her open purse
Then walked slowly up behind her target and put the barrel to his head 
And that's when things got worse

The men they yelled to drop the weapon
She smiled then jammed the keys into his neck
She gave a great shove and sent her target into them
And dived behind a bench

She drew her gun but only shot number three
She still needed to give him his bullet
And when one of the men got close
She tripped him, grabbed his gun and drew it

She shot him in the heart
Then sprinted from her hiding place
While in a mid panicked leap she shot the other two men
One in the knee and then the chest, the other a direct hit to the face

Yet again she got the blood from her targets wound
As the mass of people watched in horror and disgust 
Scarlett took her time and drew a rose
On the side of the number three thirty three bus

By LukeCoomer ©