A God's Last Death

Fellas, I Shot a Man

"Look who's digging their own grave," he says, his voice as cold as winter frost.

"I said, turn around."

"And why would—"

"Because I'll blow your fucking brains out if you don't!"

The man slowly turns to face me, and while he does so, I study his face in the darkness. It's one you forget easily. The face of a neighbor whose name you always can't remember; the face of a rushing man you bump into on the street and pass by without apologising. Perhaps that's how he fools people. With his disarmingly kind eyes and innocent smile.

But I am not a fool.

"Like what you see?" he raises an eyebrow.

I do.

"Shut up. I'll be asking the questions, and if I don't like the answer you're giving me, I'll throw you out that fucking window myself." The man moves towards the broken window, but I beat him to it. "Where the hell do you think you're going? Make another move and I'll plant a bullet to your skull!"

"To check how high the drop is, see if it's worth it," he gives me a smirk.

"Enough with your games," I reply tensely. I'm growing tired of his stupid remarks, but I don't want him to think he can get under my skin. 

"But I'm just getting started."

My hold tightens around my gun. "You think you're smart, huh. Strolling around the building like you own the place. Well, guess what. You are seriously fucked up."

"Am I, though?" he looks at me, as if he knows something I don't. 

"I don't know. I'm pointing a gun at your head. That's the most fucked up situation you can be in the history of fucked up situations."

"You are funny." He smiles like a total lunatic, and I find myself doubting about who has the upper hand here. I'd better arrest him before he pulls off an escape.

I keep my eyes on him as I take a step towards him, my right hand slowly reaching for the handcuffs attached to my belt. I make sure my gun is still pointed at him.

"This was going so well. I thought we were forming a connection here," he takes a step back, closer to the window. I observe his every move. I won't let him leave this place. I'll use force if I have to.

"This was never gonna end well for you," I say.

"Okay, now I'm growing tired. I think I'll go."

"Think again."

He doesn't reply. The silence is gnawing on my ears, making me dizzy while my brain runs over all the possibilities before me. I know there's not much separating him from the outside, from his freedom that is waiting for him in the darkness. I put my finger on the trigger.

"It was nice meeting you, miserable human." He gives me a wink and with unprecedented agility he whips around and jumps on the opening. 

I don't think twice. I aim at his chest and pull the trigger. The bullet pierces through his shoulder blade and his body rocks from the impact. I lower my gun, watching him, expecting him to tumble back in on the floor, but he only chuckles in amusement and throws himself out the window.

I dash to the opening, gun in one hand, heart racing as fear clouds my reflexes. The rain assaults my senses, and I try to ignore it. My eyes frantically search for my target. I notice the deserted buildings, the empty road; I hear the empty silence, the vast nothingness of the night.

Where could he have gone? I look again, and again and again, but I can't see him anywhere. No matter how bad I wish for a sign of him, it seems my luck has run out. It's like he has vanished in thin air.

Eventually, I accept the fact that I have failed. With a bitter feeling of defeat, I drop my gun and move away from the broken window. It seems that after tonight's encounter I'll have more paperwork to deal with.