"Barbarian Instincts" by Joe
Chapter 1
Lights…sounds…raced to the dazed and incoherent vessel of bone and flesh, reaching but not breaking the barrier that surrounded the boy. A dark shadow hung from his eyebrows hiding his eyes in a pool of black giving his face a grave look of one who has seen it all. His defined shoulders were hunched and his long arms stretched out to infinity. His large hands squeezed his knees like they were driven to hurt, to kill by rage and malice. His shadow lay on the wall behind him reaching to touch the ceiling. The boy’s attention was drawn toward the TV, but the young boy’s hazel eyes looked past the TV into nothingness. His countenance featured a speechless and dumbfounded look that at the time defamed him as a mentally challenged person. His aperture lay agape receiving droplets of an unknown substance was thick and with a rich darkness all on its own. The
Patterns of radiant light danced across the walls of engulfed darkness. The walls towered over him with demonic pleasure. Revealing their knowledge of the whole ordeal and gossiping among them. The walls voices surrounded him and taunted him to no extent. The walls laughed and ridiculed him. Their ominous chant ringed all around him in an incessant manner biting and stinging his ears. “The night is deceitful and so are you. Day in and out your lust grew. Till it seemed you didn’t know what to do. Do you get what you desire, or burn forever in the lust fictitious fire. You’ve gone mad over time. So now you and her is something you divine. You want to feel the soft and wondrous embrace. Her cuppeth running over your face. You’re a sick dog with the thoughts of one who is crazy. With a smile that is ear to ear when you see her in your view. The way you look at that women. With intentions that can not be considered human.
His face contorted with pain as he searched for words…words to explain to himself what had exactly happened? What had enveloped inside of him to even consider the action he committed as a logical choice or even a possibility. In the solitude of his room he spoke out loud. “How did I…the role model who all parents wanted their children to act like…The kid who has everything that a boy needs to survive in this cold world”…but you don’t always get the things you want, now do you. He grew aware of the voice that talked to him. The voice seemed connected to some paranormal body all on it’s on. The voice read his distracted mind, picking at every thought it came across. Though it seemed otherworldly to him it was also familiar in a creepy way. He replied “No I get things I need and that’s all that matters. Anyway I get what I want. I get video games, books, fancy clothes, a new car, and a weekly allowance of $25.”...I would’ve believed that about an hour and half ago, but..not..now. He kept arguing with himself. A debate of what he said against what he thought. “Am I, James Corton, a…monster”…Yes, I definitely am a monster.
His body tingled still from the excitement past. His forehead plastered with many droplets of blood. He got up slowly from his bed leaving the impression of where he was sitting on the bed. His every joint ached with a dull, but still noticeable pain. He trudged to the adjoined bathroom taking his time to put one foot in front of the other. He walked in to find his bathroom the same as it always was. The same bathroom him and his father built together. The tile floor spreading across the floor where on the vertices it touched the bottom of the white painted walls. The bathroom always had a relaxing and enjoyable aura surrounding it. Yet now it was lonely in the dark of the night.
His eyes adjusted to the light in the bathroom and he made his way to the sink. He pulled his torn sleeves back and began to wash his hands in a scrutinized fashion getting between the fingers and under the nail. Doing his best to wash away the sins of being human. His eyes looked to the night light at the end of the counter, up to the huge mirror above the counter that stretched as far as the counter itself. His eyes met that of another boy, but this boy didn’t look the same as he always did. This time he looked demonic. His eyes were cold showing no remorse or pity. His face put on a wide grin. He saw horns spout on the character on the other side. He slowly transformed till his appearance resembled a picture of the devil. The figure raised it’s pitchfork above it’s head and looked into the boy’s eyes. Then it launched it at him with a horrendous speed and force. The boy quickly ducked then jumped back to the opposite wall.
He slowly peered back and saw his mother. Her beautiful face lit up the dim room in glorious shine. She looked like an angel with her appearance giving all who saw her a feeling of peace. Her hair hung like golden thread of unmatchable beauty. He hypnotically walked to her. He felt like he was walking on air. The earthly worries disappeared as his mother appeared. His nose was already touching the mirror before he realized that his nose was already touching the mirror. He felt his mother lift his chin to her face. When he got to the face it changed. The eyes that showered love illuminated a deep hatred now. The mouth now grimaced instead of smiled. The eyebrows and forehead tilted downwards. Her hair looked unraveled and messed up. The transition startled him, but not as much as what happened next. She yelled with all her power at him. “You good for nothing child! How dare you commit such a heinous and vile crime! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! The idea, of you, and me…ugh! I’ve come to take you to hell, SON! You’re gonna burn in hell for the rest of eternity! And I will look down upon you with no pity because you’re not my son anymore. In fact, I…don’t know you. She threw him back and in the blink of an eye she was gone like a fragment of dust in the wind.
The mirror was now just as an ordinary mirror reflecting all that it saw. Thoughts swarmed him once more in question. Were those real? Were the reflections from the mirror actually living? Breathing the air I breathe or am I just tired and am hallucinating? The boy cautiously arose to his feet afraid another apparition would appear in the mirror and try to harm him. I mustn’t be afraid…I’m fearless…I fear nobody…not even the devil. He paced to a cabinet opposite of the mirror and opened the cupboard. His eyes examined the items in place. His eyes came upon a curler owned by his belated mother. A demonic pleasure rose on the face of the boy. He reached in and picked it up feeling power. He turned toward the mirror and held the curler behind his head. He paused for a few seconds to look upon the mirror for the last time, in one piece anyway. He then flung the curler toward the mirror. The force of the impact cracked the whole mirror. In seconds the whole thing crumbled into many pieces lying all over the counter and the surrounding floor.
No more…Yes, it’s over…No more shall I be tormented by you. You evil mirror with your piercing eyes…piercing into my very soul…well not anymore, you hear, not anymore. He slowly walked backwards toward the door without letting his eyes leave the remnants of the mirror. He stopped when he felt the carpet under his feet again. The moment his feet touched the carpet he instantly remembered his dirty deed. Strain and worry plagued the boys face like chicken pox.
I don’t feel like I can live with myself after tonight. I’m about to go crazy…I need my meds or I’m just going to go loco. The walls are slowly creeping in on me. They know. He rushed to his night stand and opened a drawer to a rx bottle in the corner. He popped it open and guzzled two of them in the blink of an eye. With that his dependency was met.
With the sound of muffled swearings his attention shifted to the blinds which were above the house’s parking place. His feet followed his gaze to the blinds. His heart’s tempo rose every step he took toward the window. His breathing slowed, but in compensation grew louder. He heard and felt blood rushing in his ear. He peered through the blinds expecting to see the door of an SUV open and a tall man about 6’3”get out and walk to the front door. The least expected happened. Something glided across the yard dressed in black camouflaged with his background. Who could it be? Who would come to my house in the middle of the night? The figure was hesitating as it slowly crept up to the front porch. It looked around in a scrutinizing manner. He felt something about this unknown character. For a sec, he thought who would be dressed in full black and be sneaking toward a house in the middle of the night? Could this lowly figure be a robber or thief?
Then he heard the sinister voice again. Maybe god is dropping a miracle on our doorstep. God is thanking us for killing that devilish woman. Well, if you think about it James this is your chance to get out of trouble. What are you getting at? He spoke to the nonexistent voice again. The scum of the earth trying to come into this house, and rape and kill my mother…why that’s unheard of. The boy thought on this idea. Maybe the voice is right, I should fight for my freedom. Whoever this person is I have to stop them from finding out. I have to kill them. His face supported a malevolent grin. His crazy mind thought of a plan to frame this guy as an ignorant robber who decided he would just come and steal a few things to sell to the pawn shop, even if he is one or not. He’s not going to steal any of my property if I have anything to do with it.
The figure dressed in black stepped up to the door and reached in his pocket, and the result was horrifying. He pulled out a mustang .44 and was fumbling with it. He then pulled out a credit card with his other hand and slipped the credit card through the cranny of the doorframe, pushed on the door and took his flight inside.
With the blink of an eye a new quest was afoot. Now the idea of cleaning the mess before anybody found out was obsolete. He was to now pin the manslaughter on this new guest. O to have mercy upon the curious cat, I think not. Hahahaha! Who’s crazy now. I’m the smart one, not crazy like this fool who decided to plunder the treasure of this domain. I have just figured out a brilliant plan to keep my slate clean, and well…I guess he won’t have a slate to dirty anymore…will he? The boy laughed silently to himself. He realized he had finally gone crazy, but for some reason was loving it. He felt good being evil and clever. To kill him, that is the task that lay before me. How to kill a robber? That is the question. His eyes focused upon the inventory of his room.
The room had no weapons of destruction. No objects in which to inflict pain and death. I’m not stupid enough to jump out of the dark unarmed, am I? A thought hit him. There are two guns in this house, one in a safe in the living room and one in Max’s drawer. He moved slow and gracefully to the door. His life depended upon his eye-foot coordination. It’s only obvious that I go get the one in my parent’s room. Thank God for my love of athletics, and this gift brought upon my doorstep. The world was revolving fast all around him as he slowly put one foot in front of the other, trying to avoid the dull creak which sounded if you stepped to quickly. Silence is the key to survival in this game, but unlike most games the reward is freedom and the loser dies. There are many risks in doing this, but I have faith in myself. He walked across the hall to the far end of the hall to his parents’ bedroom.
His ears picked up on a bunch of noises making their ascension from downstairs. It seemed the robber had found the living room and he was searching the entertainment center for various DVDs and CDs. It seemed the robbers priorities shifted a little bit. Instead of stealth now it was observation and speed. He tried to comprehend how much more time he would have before the robber either came up or left. His bare feet felt the rough carpet as he made his way to the room. His eyes looked behind him from time to time to make sure he wasn’t getting ambushed. His predictions stopped once He finally reached the door.
His hand fell to the knob where he twisted and pushed open the door. The room was luminous for under the bed lay a series of pink neon lights. The pink light flashed across the floor. The dark of the night didn’t touch a thing in the room. This is the sick idea of my desperate parents trying to get into the mood. The grotesqueness of sticking pink neon under the bed sickens me like salmonella. The idea of my mother on that bed with…my adopted dad! He sneered at the shining light as he walked in. His thoughts changed to the sexual activities that must have occurred in this room. His mom being manhandled by that particular barbarian is unthinkable. Why couldn’t I have her Lord, I would have been better for her. I wouldn’t have ended up…anyway I better get back to business.
He turned and closed the door making sure to lock it. He then ran to the drawer not worrying about stealth anymore. He figured how he was going to open this drawer. He believed it was best to see if it was locked first, though he thought it would be. To his surprise the drawer was unlocked and the gun laid they’re black and beautiful, surrounded by other miscellaneous items of no interest. It glistened in the pink light when He picked the gun up. He stared at it as if it held the answer to eternal life on earth. The power was now his to do what he wanted. The power to end ones life rested innocently in his hand. Now it is time to kill that trespasser, rapist, and killer.
Chapter 2
A big cacophony of noises came from down below as he was holding the gun up. He quickly stored it in his right pocket. He walked out of the room in a hurry. If I am to attack this visitor it best be right now because after making that racket he’s probable gonna leave soon. His back slid across the wall as he walked trying to blend in the shadow the wall cast on him. From the recent sound of things, the robber had proceeded to the kitchen. The noises sounded like a myriad of glasses, plates, and etc. fell out of the cabinet.
He peeked around the corner and saw no action at the foot of the stairs. He ducked under the height of the 4ft wall that was made to give the house a more elegant look along with keeping you from falling down a level. He slowly waddled over to the edge of the wall where the staircase began. All of a sudden he heard footsteps ensuing up the stairs towards him. Now was the time to act. Am I, James Corton, a mouse or a MAN!
James arose with the gun pointing at the intruder. The intruder, impeded on his journey, looked up in surprise. The fear presented in the robbers eyes empowered James’s with a sense of majesty. The situation is under my control. He had a smirk on his face as he looked into the eyes of the robber. His finger applied pressure on the trigger ready for annihilation of his foe. The robber didn’t move a muscle. He stepped closer to the robber and laughed. He realized the walls weren’t laughing at him but with him. They were laughing at this fool and his ignorance. The walls celebrated the victory of James Corton. The walls sang accolades of praises to their leader, James Corton.
He talked in a low voice “Hello, I don’t think we’ve had the chance to meet. My name is James Corton. How about you my fellow of the night? The hooded figure replied in a scared tone. The robber’s eyes still focusing on the barrel of the gun in front of him. “My name is…Gregory Tethers.” At this remark, James lowered the gun a little and stared deeper into the blank eyes. Could it really be Greg? why would Greg decided to rob my house? Why would he do something like this? He lowered the gun contemplating and the robber made a run for the door.
James stunned for a second proceeded to chase after the robber, gun in hand, and hatred in his mind. He flew down the stairs and tackled Gregory right in front of the door. He pulled off the hood with his unoccupied hand. The blond hair fell out onto the floor in numerous fine strands. Greg’s sweaty face glistened in the light from the study.
James anger grew when he exposed Greg’s face. He punched like never before at Greg relieving all of his stress in every malign blow. Adrenaline rushed through his body fueling his disastrous attempts to subdue his uninvited guest. Gregory swatted at James face scratching him on his right cheek. James knew this was over. He knew that Greg had no where to run, and no chance of escaping his firm grasp. He had successfully pinned him down and was beating him mercilessly. The sweaty face of Greg had now transformed into a rugged and bloody one. Greg’s nose bled down the sides of his cheeks and wounds on the head were bleeding from the bludgeoning blows
Now Greg is just a chicken with it’s head cut off. Greg grasped at the open air. James didn’t know Greg’s hand found the end-table that stands by the door and he rattled it. Something fell to the floor, but He didn’t pay attention to it. Something bashed his head with what felt like a picture frame. James kept punching any open spots of Greg. Lucky shot, the glass hit in the right spot and discombobulated James for a split second.
Greg leapt to his feet and dashed the rest of the distance to the door leading outside. Greg fidgeted with the doorknob trying his best to open it. By the time Greg opened the door he was up and chasing after him. He yelled “Stop! Or I’ll shoot! I’m warning you!” Greg ran fast away from the house. He was hot on his trail gaining every second they were running. He aimed the pistol at Greg’s leg and pulled the trigger.
A huge sound erupted though the streets like an active volcano. The ear-deafening scream of the pistol awoke some curious neighbors. Lights in several houses lit up and shadows stood behind the window. The bullet from the pistol zoomed toward Greg and went straight through his leg. The instant the bullet hit Greg, he fell crippled.
James quickly rushed towards Greg and kneeled over him. The bullet had left a hole running straight through to the other side. Blood oozed out of the hole which stood agape. Greg’s eyes were wet with tears and he moaned in pain. He bent closer to Greg’s face almost touching. He looked into his eyes and said, “Greg, I know we’ve known each other for a long time. In fact, I believe we’ve been best buds for four years. We’ve had our fun together. Fishing at McHennry’s, playing at the town arcade, riding our bikes through the streets on hot summer days, and many devious and mischievous pranks on the unsuspecting neighbors, and who can forget our tradition of tping the neighborhood on Halloween. Those were the good times…when neither of us were smart of the outside world and its cruelty, and both of us were stupid and felt safe because we were innocent. Too bad it couldn’t stay like that. Anyway, back to business.
It seems that you were committing a crime, were you not?” James patiently waited for the mute Greg to speak but he just kept moaning. He could tell Greg was listening, though. “You could get sent to juvenile for that since your only fifteen. Your parents wouldn’t like that I don’t think. So I have a nice offer that you might just be tempted with. How about I shoot you again but this time in the head and you won’t get in trouble. I mean that’s killing two birds with one stone, is it not? You’ll be your own and my scapegoat tonight.
Greg’s moans stopped short and he peered at James. He lashed out, “Are you crazy?! You sadistic bastard what is this idea of killing me for! I thought we were buds!” James was taken back, he felt that his power was insulted, “How dare you speak to me like that!” James bashed his head with the pistol. After doing so, he continued, “I know you were going to ask me what I meant about you being my scapegoat, so let me be truthful before I kill you because it’s better to get it off my chest.
“Remember Mrs. Corton, the beautiful and sexy mother you always loved.” Greg’s attention was drawn toward James when he said that. James’s was gloating when he was talking to Greg about their acquaintance, but now when he talked about his mom to Greg he got mad and lonely. The one thing he couldn’t have, he got, just not the way he pictured it. “She ran…ran away from ME!...The stupid heartless wench could be alive still if she just didn’t fight it.” Greg gazed at James with a leery eye. “It’s all her fault that she’s dead. I wouldn’t have had to used the fireplace poker if she didn’t resist.” His face fell and single tear fell to the soft earth. He screamed out loud wanting his mother to hear it in heaven or hell, wherever that sorry good for nothing went. Greg stopped moaning and just panted hard, observing what James was doing. Trying to figure what James did. “Let me tell you what I did. I raped my mother and not only that but I killed her.” Greg was staring terrified into his face.
“Of course, it didn’t have to happen like that. I mean all she had to do is let me have sex with her. She shouldn’t have freaked when I made my move. I would be better for her than Max.” That expression on Greg’s face explains it all, he thinks I’m a messed up crazy person, huh. Well then, we will see who’s crazy when everybody finds out you committed a suicide after raping and killing my mother. Greg put all of his strength into limping on his left leg and half way skip and run at the same time.
James aimed his gun at Greg again and shot him in the other leg, The same loud noise arose through the desolate streets wavering for no longer than 2 seconds before dissolving into the background. With a loud thud Greg fell once more to earth. He screamed like a panther in the still night air when he fell. He got up and walked 15 feet to where Greg lay arms and legs akimbo. “So you think I’m crazy. You think I’m just another loony that needs to go the asylum.
Well then, I’m gonna kill you right now, you stupid traitor. Turning your back on me calling me crazy.” Greg helplessly screamed a blood curdling scream, “Goodbye o’ buddy, ole pal.” With this said he took his friend’s gun and pointed it at his head. He stopped in his tracks. Should he really kill his friend for nothing, just to get his own hide out of immeasurable trouble. Decisions, Decisions…what to do in this situation. Kill him.” This time there was no argument on his side this time. The voice which haunted him to do what it wanted didn’t speak, for the voice was now a part of him. Him and the voice were one in the same. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger and another explosion rang through the suburban streets.
The eyes of his friend Greg slowly rolled back into his skull where they will lay dormant till’ they eventually rot in the sockets they lay. He placed the gun in his friend’s hand and left it. He pulled Greg’s jacket off and covered his face with it, leaving no trace of his countenance. He then sat back on his ankles and picked his gun up. He stood up on his feet and turned away from this nightmare he just walked into. His usual cockiness wasn’t clinging to his face anymore instead it was replaced by moral disgust. He had killed not only his mother but now he killed his best friend. What now Lord, what now? What have I done to deserve this?
Chapter 3
The streetlights lightened the desolate streets with a dim glow as he walked across the street he had recently crossed. In the dark of the wholesome night a nightingale sang it’s tune. The lights looked down at him with disgrace as they lamented the death of Greg. “I know you stupid lights, don’t look at me like that. It was either him or me who’s life would be ruined.” His steps now felt like lead and he didn’t know if he could continue this mission of espionage.
At this very instant, he looked around him staring into the darkness all in front of him. His eyes pierced through the darkness as if staring at some freak of nature. The once docile air now whipped around him in a fury attacking him. He heard the wind screaming at him. The winds tortured his ear drums yelling at him in shame. His mother’s voice returned to scorn him, “You’ve done it now, you stupid boy. You and your weak mind and inferior will to restrain yourself from your desires has led to the death of a beautiful friendship. I would be amazed if you could get away with life sentence and not execution. How you do you explain to the law that you raped and then killed me, and after that you killed your best friend, Greg. I thought I raised you right”
In attempt to ignore the voices of the wind he ran…ran in a frantic determination to rid of the voices that tormented him so. “Why are you killing people. Do you think it’s fun to take life. You’re not going to escape no matter how hard you try. If you fool the people around you, just remember that I’ll always haunt you, and when you least notice it I will be your downfall.” He pressed his hands as hard as he could to his ears in hopes of blocking the voices. He reached his front yard in a matter of moments. He ran down the cobblestone path to the front door which stood widely open. The voices stopped abruptly when his eyes caught the form of his dad’s truck to his right side.
All of his body functions ceased for that time being as he listened inside of the house. Every part of him was dead with silence. His eyes tried to decipher where his father was and what he was doing. His only thoughts were what if he found her body or the blood stains were found by him. It would spell an instant massacre of which he didn’t want.
He heard his father’s feet dragging on the carpet and then the water bed made a loud krsshh. He must have decided to go to bed without caring where his wife is. How can he sleep without knowing where that beautiful goddess is? There’s only one punishment for that, o father, and that is death. His expression of fear of being found out changed to a look of disgust as he thought of that man laying there on the water bed where he, James Corton, should have laid.
He slowly stepped into the house making his way to the stairs, stepping on the family picture that previously hit him. He made his way to and up the stairs slowly taking 3 steps at a time trying to divide his weight between his two feet and his hands on the rail. He would lift up when progressing to the next step in succession. After 5 minutes of concentrated effort James made his way across the hall to his parents’ bedroom. His last thoughts were, “Lord, I’m gonna kill this bastard and he’ll go straight to hell where he belongs. No longer will I have to look at him.”
He slowly pushed the almost shut door open making careful not to let the door creak which would blow the whole ordeal. Unfortunately, to his utmost fear the worst happened. The door creaked loud when it opened, and the sleeping man awoke. The (what seemed to James) crazy man still lay there speaking in a nearly mute audible. Murmuring incantations of unknown origin. Was he mocking me in my time of victory. Was he laughing at me because he thought I couldn’t do it. Well, I got news for him. I’m gonna kill him, now he’s gonna be awake when I kill him. I want him to see his destroyer. I want him to know who will be his downfall. Who will deliver his pitiful life to the devil. I want him to know everything that had happened.
He slowly crept closer and closer to unsuspecting victim of cruel fate. His hand held onto the gun in pure dependency as if it gave pumped power unto him. He reached the edge of the bed and pulled the gun out. He drew in a long breath and let it out in a scream the lit the whole room in a perilous screech. The man awoke at the noise and looked down the barrel of the gun when he sat up. In a matter of seconds the man was perspiring through the pores on his forehead. His eyes crossed looking up the black shaft. He wasn’t fully conscience yet probably thinking this must be just another dream. James found it upon himself to explain everything to his father, for he won’t be around much longer anyway.
Chapter 4
“Hello, good rest” He laughed at Max, “I thought so.” Max still looked confused as he looked at the gun. Max spoke, “Am I awake?” He kept on laughing at Max and replied in a cool and relaxed fashion, “why of course, stupid.” Max’s facial feature changed from confused to angry. Max spoke, “What did you call me?” James replied, “stupid.” For at least a minute the room had an awkward silence as both of them were quiet and didn’t make a move.
“Let me explain the full story of tonight’s events, shall I?” Max was speechless, so he didn’t reply. James continued, “First of all, let me tell you about mom. Mom is special. She is so wonderful. I mean she is smart, funny, and definitely sexy. From the cute dimples she has when she smiles to the way she swiveled her hips when she walked. Everything about her is perfect.” Max’s face was contorting into a confused face once more as he kept going on about mom. “I personally don’t see what she saw in you. I mean you came up here and went to bed without even checking if she was here. You’re pitiful because you don’t take advantage of what you got.”
Max yelled back, “I loved her and cherished her. I don’t know wh--”, “Shut up!” James revolted, “I’m not finished yet!” Max hushed after his lash out. “Now as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted. Poor mother, she wasn’t loved like she could’ve been.” Max interrupted again, “What do you mean, could’ve.” James continued once more, “ She’s dead.” A silence took place in the room. The pink neon shined on both of their faces as they both stared at each other. Max now looked lost. James took pleasure in his confusion. “She died earlier today.” Max came back into focus to ask something. “How did she die?” He cleared his throat as a tear rolled down his cheek. He mustered all his strength to say it. “I raped her and then killed her.”
Max’s mouth was wide open as he stared at him. He continued, “This is how it happened, Max. All I wanted was sex, that’s it, but she resisted. In fact, she ran away. I knew that I was in serious trouble because of what I did I would suffer dire consequences, so I freaked out. I thought I might end up going back to the therapist again. I picked up the nearest thing and slung it at her. It was a fire poker, and it pierced her with ease. She fell down flat. I called to her, but she didn’t respond.” Max was still speechless. James continued after clearing his throat, “In killing her, I had to get myself out of trouble by any means necessary.
I also ended up killing my best friend, Greg. I didn’t want to but I had to put the blame on someone besides me for the raping and killing of my mother. To them it will look like he raped my mother. She ran and he killed her because of that. He then comes up here to kill you.” He smiled defiantly at Max. Max barely spoke audibly, “How could you?” James smiled and replied is if he had a bitter taste in his mouth, “It’s easy, I am man. I am a creature of instinct. Too bad for you, Max.” He raised the barrel of the gun to Max’s forehead then squeezed the trigger slightly. “Too bad your not going to see my mom in heaven, you bastard!”
He laughed then squeezed the trigger. A excruciatingly loud sound bounced off the walls of the small room. He dropped the gun. His fingers were shaking as he felt his chest. Where his hard, muscular chest stood was a hole gushing blood over his torn muscle shirt. He felt shock go over him like a sound barrier. He felt his strength leave his body and he fell back into the abyss, and into the abyss he fell where he will live forever always remembering the face of the angel who gave to him sacred life and took it back from whence it came.
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