The Ghost

A series of firing of guns echoed throughout the entire shooting range as Manuel repeatedly pulled the trigger.

He needed this, because if he can’t let all his frustrations out, he knew he would kill somebody just out of anger.

He doesn’t care about the lives of the people around him, but he doesn’t want to be branded as an emotional mess like his brother, Hubert.

He lost count as to how many magazines he emptied for the past fifteen minutes. He could go on like this the whole day.

In his mind’s eye, he looked at the target far from him, the person who was responsible for bombing a few of his buildings.

his rage grew even more lethal as the images of people rolled in his mind.

“Fucking asshole, how dare you fucking mess with me…”

Manuel let out a roar of rage as he emptied the magazine, his rage pouring out.

The deafening echoes of the gunshots stops and he was catching his breath as he stood there, his eyes red from rage, his lungs burning and his blood boiling.

He threw the
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