Plot Brainstorm.

"Please, I had no choice..." she pleaded, her rapid breathes filling the silence.

The girl twisted the silencer in place, no longer concerned about what her prisoner had to say.

"There's always a choice," She whispered, moving her gaze from her hands to the woman in front of her.

She raised the gun slowly, watching the fear in the woman's torqoise eyes grow. She struggled violently against the ropes, no longer caring for the way the it scratched her bruised skin, her trembling red stained lips barely able to beg for mercy.

The girl pulled the trigger.

"You chose wrong."