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Where The Bullet Belongs (Episode 1)
For a millisecond he looked to be lost as the tiny metal breezed across his face, bruising the thick of his chin, the highest point. The bullet sends his face facing backyard. A brush that sprayed blood off his face.
He missed the target! thank goodness! Jim, who never had so near death experience, immediately in a twinkle, threw himself across the counter as the killer continue his spray after him.
He never thought they could find him, he least expected their trail of him to come this far south. 'Melinda?' He peered out of the corner of the pub table while on the floor of the bartender spot. Her beautiful face in a maroon pool, gushing out of her throat. 'Oh no! Jim screamed under his breathe'. Now he knows who's blood designed is cinched suit in white shirt and black tie. "F**k!" he muttered, stamping the ground with the fold of his fist as he did.
Slicer, the assassin, as he is called, called him out. "Come out Jim, you've got no where to hide, not that spot, it won't save you! Today, I'd send you where men like us send names on the list"
He was not scared of dying. He was more afraid of falling deep asleep in the comfort of his bed and a while later his throat is slit open with a dagger. If he is to die, he wants to die looking at his assailant take the shot. Killing is not a thing for him any longer, dying isn't either, he has sent many below the surface himself but he wants to choose is demise. A choice he didn't grant his victims the privilege of choosing.
The imminent coming of his end summoned sweat on his forehead. On the floor rests a bottle, he fetched a tumbler on one of shelves behind him. He poured one tumbler of whiskey and sent it down his throat hoping to find relief for his soul. It went burning like the pain he felt in his heart.
He was in the game and he was the best there is. If you ever think of killing anyone, no matter how important or influencial they are, Jimmy was the man for the job. He does killing so diligently and effortlessly, he didn't find it a work but a pleasure. A play thing to ease off stress. He has long resigned. He has turned a new leaf and his trying to make another living as a regular person would. But it seems, his past won't let old leaf die.
Jim sat, his back to the table he fell across, placing his moves to his opponent counter moves in the video he played in his mind. The look of the room when he first steped in all vivid. The table and the chairs, the doors n the bends, every turn he or his assassin could make, he played. He checked his band for the glock. He had ten rounds in the mag' and two mag' in the pocket of his jacket. He never leaves the house without packing.
He sat contemplating how he'd escape the assassins after him. It was certain that the killer making his way to him, is not the only one sent. Who ever sent him after him, knows one wouldn't be able to silence him. 'Could there be more than one in this scene?' The only details in his plans he left out. All this he did under the roaring of bullets overhead.
Just before Slicer got close enough, Jim had his next moves well cooked and ready to be served....
Episode 2 coming
© Wilson Chinekwe
He missed the target! thank goodness! Jim, who never had so near death experience, immediately in a twinkle, threw himself across the counter as the killer continue his spray after him.
He never thought they could find him, he least expected their trail of him to come this far south. 'Melinda?' He peered out of the corner of the pub table while on the floor of the bartender spot. Her beautiful face in a maroon pool, gushing out of her throat. 'Oh no! Jim screamed under his breathe'. Now he knows who's blood designed is cinched suit in white shirt and black tie. "F**k!" he muttered, stamping the ground with the fold of his fist as he did.
Slicer, the assassin, as he is called, called him out. "Come out Jim, you've got no where to hide, not that spot, it won't save you! Today, I'd send you where men like us send names on the list"
He was not scared of dying. He was more afraid of falling deep asleep in the comfort of his bed and a while later his throat is slit open with a dagger. If he is to die, he wants to die looking at his assailant take the shot. Killing is not a thing for him any longer, dying isn't either, he has sent many below the surface himself but he wants to choose is demise. A choice he didn't grant his victims the privilege of choosing.
The imminent coming of his end summoned sweat on his forehead. On the floor rests a bottle, he fetched a tumbler on one of shelves behind him. He poured one tumbler of whiskey and sent it down his throat hoping to find relief for his soul. It went burning like the pain he felt in his heart.
He was in the game and he was the best there is. If you ever think of killing anyone, no matter how important or influencial they are, Jimmy was the man for the job. He does killing so diligently and effortlessly, he didn't find it a work but a pleasure. A play thing to ease off stress. He has long resigned. He has turned a new leaf and his trying to make another living as a regular person would. But it seems, his past won't let old leaf die.
Jim sat, his back to the table he fell across, placing his moves to his opponent counter moves in the video he played in his mind. The look of the room when he first steped in all vivid. The table and the chairs, the doors n the bends, every turn he or his assassin could make, he played. He checked his band for the glock. He had ten rounds in the mag' and two mag' in the pocket of his jacket. He never leaves the house without packing.
He sat contemplating how he'd escape the assassins after him. It was certain that the killer making his way to him, is not the only one sent. Who ever sent him after him, knows one wouldn't be able to silence him. 'Could there be more than one in this scene?' The only details in his plans he left out. All this he did under the roaring of bullets overhead.
Just before Slicer got close enough, Jim had his next moves well cooked and ready to be served....
Episode 2 coming
© Wilson Chinekwe
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