"Listen" the guy is now fully conscious, but barely talking. His voice is just a broken whisper.
I guess I should shoot him now. And I guess I would if I wasn't daydreaming and being a little complicated, but I don't stop aiming at him.
"I know your name. Trust me, I'm well informed."
"What? You don't what? You don't deserve this? Yeah, well, see... in my business" I stand up, "we think..." I start walking towards him, "you do... William."
I walk around the place. If I was wearing heels, my footsteps would echo. Good thing I'm not, I don't really like ruining good shoes. Instead I just buy new canvas shoes all the time.
He coughs several times.
"I don't have any water" I say, non-apologetic.
"Look..." he starts again, "it wasn't my fault. It--- it wasn't me. It wasn't me. I could've... I... could've stopped it--"
"But you didn't."
"But... but--- I have to-- my family, I--"
"If you're talking about your nonagenarian parents, they're perfectly fine. They're in the retirement house you sent them to. So don't worry. Oh, and it's not like we're gonna spare you of this horrible situation by killing them instead. That's not how it works."
"Oh, God... oh God, please, God-- this is a dream, this isn't happening... God, God please help me..."
I stand beside him and talk into his ear. "Sonny, son, son..." I sing in a dark voice, "this is the end."
He turns his head to the side and our noses almost touch.
"Do you believe in God?"
"No-- I mean, I do, but it's... it's a different kind of god" I press my gun against his back, he moans. "Do you?" I ask. He doesn't answer. I stand up straight. "Or are you just one of those who believe when they're about to die?"
I move away from him. Away enough to sit down, but not so far to have to stand up and run suddenly. The room is not so big anyways.
He pulls his head back and starts breathing heavily.
"Hey... HEY! Don't do that, don't--" I stand up, "If you do that you'll get blood up your nose and drown. You can't die like that, I have to shoot you, otherwise I won't get paid and I need to feed my cats..." I hold his head in my hands.
"If you were to shoot me-- you would've done it--"
I shoot. I was aiming at his leg. He screams. I start talking again and move backwards a few steps.
"I know this may seem sadistic. And I know you think you don't deserve it. Truth be told, you do. If, for your consolation, you're gonna start believing in God, Buddha, karma, or the Lost island, go ahead. I doubt there's a spot for you in heaven. You and all your partners can say goodbye to the world. We'll wipe them off the earth." He tries to move his head closer to mine, but I press the bullet in his leg. "I saw that in a movie, I hadn't tried it before now... Aw! It's my first time!" I say with irony, cleaning the blood from my finger in his suit. "Look, I hate ruining good suits. I can tell this is a very good expensive one, but... I'm not sorry. My co-workers wear suits too, and they hate stains. But then again, who doesn't. The Beatles wore suits too." He starts coughing again, and spitting blood. "Yikes" I say.
"Why don't you just fucking shoot me already? Are you, what-- are you waiting for something? You want an apology? Huh? Yeah, that's it. Here, here-- I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I should've stopped it, I could've. But I didn't. I didn't have the balls, and I could've been fired--"
"Repentance doesn't go well with you, y'know. I'm not buying this shit anyways. It's not me who needs your apology, and I don't want it either. It's them-- seven feet below the grass you step on. And no, you don't have balls. You didn't have them then and you don't have them now. And you cared too much about keeping your job. But... why?" I stand in front of him again, "They were children! Who couldn't fight back, or tell you to go to hell, or spit on your face! Maybe you don't remember what's it like being a kid, but that is not even a fucking excuse. And you dare to bring God up?!"
I walk backwards a few more steps.
"I am God." I say.
And I shoot.
Created: Jul 12, 2010Document Media