Point Blank: The Last Mission (Patreon)

She was confident. Beautiful. Deadly.
Wearing her signature white lace top and black tactical shorts, she stepped into the clearing with the confidence of a woman who'd never lost. Her pistol was ready. Her mission was simple—track the target, retrieve the intel, eliminate if necessary.

But someone else was already watching her.

In the blink of an eye, the hunter became the hunted.

She raised her weapon, eyes sharp, unwavering. But before a single shot could be fired, the ambush struck—point blank, straight to the chest.

Her body jolted.
Her breath hitched.
A dark stain bloomed between her breasts, soaking the delicate lace.
Her eyes dropped to the wound in stunned disbelief, fingers trembling toward it.

She stumbled back. One gasp. Two.
Her knees buckled.
Her gun slipped from her fingers, hitting the earth uselessly.

With each breath, her strength faded. Her spine arched as she fell into the grass, hands grasping at her chest, her body twisting in pain and disbelief. She writhed once, twice—gasping, moaning—until her limbs fell wide and limp. Her mouth hung open in silence, her last breath stolen by betrayal.

Her final mission ended not in glory… but in the cold grass, alone.