Day 275. Something Sinister Caught in The Flash

The bloodied weapon still in his right hand, he had to reach awkwardly across his body with his left in order to make the mandatory call.  The job was done.

He was a hood for hire.  He moved stealthily at night, a shadow amongst shadows; even a black cat in the midnight hour was more visible than he.  A whiskey bottle was waiting for him in his room, and never one to dawdle, he moved swiftly to answer its call.

However, it was of the most unfortunate of circumstances on that cloudless night, that a naive photography student, Bernard Rexal, was experimenting with slow-sync flash.  Bernard had recently gotten a C- on a project for using only a frontal flash which captured his subject--Gabriella, a knockout co-ed forced into being his partner--but left her enveloped in a sea of stark, black background.  She scoffed at his results.  Not this time around, sister.  He had done his research and was trying out a "front-curtain" technique.  The flash should fire at the start of the shot when the shutter opened to illuminate his subject, a simple fire hydrant.  Next, the shutter was supposed to remain open for the remainder of the shot--long enough to capture everything in the background.  He would be redeemed! 

Disastrously, Bernard's technique caught the face of grim death.  A searing gaze burned through the night in the direction of his click and flash.  "He with no name" felt fury boil within himself.  Who was this Poindexter?  Rage flooded within him as the coming taste of alcohol moved further away.  He snarled into the phone, "I have one more job to do."

He  shoved the phone back into his overcoat pocket and turned purposefully.  Bernard saw him and felt his fury.  Blood drained from his face as the world started spinning.  Could this really be happening?  Lamentably, this was no surrealistic dream; his life was at stake.  Bernie had one chance of survival within him.  Never had he thought he would be thanking the bullies who had taunted him all his life, chasing him home from school.  His cultivated speed from all those years was his only hope for continued life...and the A+ that he would get from this photo...and the look of approval in gorgeous Gabriella's green eyes.  Run, legs, run!

Acrylic and vine charcoal

(Credit to www.picturecorrect.com for helping in the explanation of a "front-curtain" shot.)