As the second bullet hits its mark, Quentin drops his Beretta. Using his, now free, hand to clutch the gaping holes in his chest...he braces his large body against the open door.
Not before long, the sharp pulsating pain saps away his strength as all of his focus dwindles down to just forcing in one desperate gasp after another. The two shots having left behind exit wounds on both of his lungs; each breath comes in at a high premium that his body is just unable to pay. Soon enough, his legs give way and he slowly slides down the length of the door and crumbles into a heap of a broken mess with his back propped up against the doorframe.
His vision fading quick, in the gathering darkness he spots his old friend walking towards him, probably...no...definitely
...for the last time, with exaggerated swings of her hips, in part due to the sharp black stilettos augmenting her stance. Even in his final moments Quentin cannot help but let his attention stray towards her enchanting, mesmerizing…unmistakably deadly gait.
Like a viper slithering towards its helpless prey with great intent, Sofia walks slowly towards her former partner. Her gun still clasped tightly in her hand, her finger still leaving a faint print on the trigger.
"All...for...this?", he hisses out in mortal pain as he raises one hand and makes one final, feeble attempt at reaching for his gun fallen just a few feet away. But still, it had fallen a few feet too many away from arm's length.
Stopping short before the man slumped over the door's threshold, soaked in a pool of his own blood; Sofia kicks away the Beretta and unconditionally crushes Quentin's hopes for delivering any last minute retribution.
"You were a friend once Quentin," she tells her old partner before raising her gun and firing off three shots: two in the head and one again in the chest. "It's a shame you decided to become a dead weight."
After the last gunshot, the room falls into a deathly silence. The only sounds being the faint din of approaching sirens drawing closer with each passing second. Sofia surveys the suburban den one last time before walking over to the small coffee table laden with the bottle of the aged single blend. And raising the shot glass to her lips, she drains the little of what’s left of the whiskey.
This is the third and final part of the 3-piece image story between Sofia and Quentin. The plot is still not a fully fleshed out concept, just a doodle equivalent. But the gist of it is that everything's a grey area, there are no heroes, just a lot of villains.
The order of progression for this short story stub is:
PART 1: Bitter Late Goodbyes.
PART 2: The Puff Adder coils.
And this one being PART 3.
Created in Daz Studio Pro 4.15 with Iray. No post processing done.
Rendered using assets created by me and others licensed from the renderosity and daz3d marketplace.