A bottle of cheap wine, a pack of cigarettes,a lighter and a gun that’s what he cared to brought. He stood against a tree in the dark, waiting for his prey. Tonight should be his last night on earth, two lives were going to end before sunrise . He didn’t care about the laws he was about to break. They can come after him in hell. And, so he waited.
Around the fourth cigarette, he heard footsteps. He grabbed the gun without a second thought and came out of the bushes. She was strolling along the side walk. She was listening to some music, her earphones plugged. She didn’t hear him coming; she didn’t know what was about to hit her, she didn’t know she was going to die that night.
He put the gun to her temple and pressed his hand against her mouth. No hesitation, no fear, precise cold and calculated. She didn’t scream, didn’t make a move. She closed her eyes and waited. He whispered to her ear, to walk to the bushes and she did. He made her sit on a log and sat in front of her with the gun pointing straight at her heart.
“The only way you’re getting out of this alive is if you convince me that you matter, that this universe has some form of order, that you exist to serve a higher purpose, else you and I won’t last to see the dawn.” He took a swig of wine, then handed her the bottle: “Trust me you’re going to need it” and lit yet another cigarette.
She looked young, bright, hopeful with all the patience and courage to face everything life threw at her. She was everything he had been. He saw his past in her. They were the same age. But, they couldn’t be any different, he already looked dead, a rotting soul in a rotting body but she was flaming with energy, pulsating with life.
The night was still young…