It's just a dream (True creepy stories)

Two bullets

I was a rookie cop when my brother committed suicide. He was one of my older siblings but we were very close. He died in another state, and I had a lot of guilt about not recognizing the signs. His remains were in bad shape by the time he was discovered, so it was a closed coffin service.

About a week after he died, I was back at work one night, and my partner and I see a pimp pistol-whipping one of his girls. I jump out and the pimp sees me and the foot chase was on. I was running after him, gun in hand, and he cuts through a narrow corridor under a building that leads to a courtyard in the middle.

Right before I reach the courtyard, I hear "It's okay" in my dead brother's voice. I hit the courtyard and the guy is against the side pointing a gun at my head. He squeezes the trigger twice. I froze for a millisecond and then started beating him in the head with my revolver. Till this day, I don't know why I didn't just shoot him, cuff him and walk him back to the street and find my partner. I tell my partner about him squeezing the trigger, but not the voice I heard. We unload the gun (.32 revolver) right there, and 2 bullets have strike marks on them.

Take the gun to the lab for testing. Tell the tech the story. He puts the two bullets with strike marks back in and shoots into the test tank. Both bullets fired.