He was a ghost in the desert/wasteland/scorched earth, his face hidden behind a scarf/bandana/veil. The sun beat down, but he barely felt/noticed/registered it. He was used to the heat, to the silence, to the ever-present dust/sand/grit that clung to everything. A contract killer in this godforsaken/isolated/harsh land wasn't a glamorous job, but i… Read More

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