Sudden Loss

Death that no one heard. Where to go from here?

"This gun is supposed to be loaded." Paul said

He opened the cylinder and looked at it, sure enough a round had been chambered. He looked down the barrel and saw nothing wrong with it. The firing pin and hammer seemed fine as well. Why didn't it go off? It seemed to look just fine. He dumped the rounds into his hand and looked at them all, sure enough one of them had the marking of the firing pin hitting it.

"M**********r." Pail uttered, as his legs trembled.

They shook slightly as he felt the sweat running down his back and hands. The legs buckled and he soon found himself on his knees. He put the rounds back into the gun one by one and closed the cylinder. He then put pulled the hammer back and put it back into his mouth. He heard a click. He squeezed as tight as he could and heard another click. He did it again...........again...............again. Nothing had happened so he pointed it into the ground and pulled the trigger again. Sure enough it went off and dust was kicked up, as part of the floor turned into something like gas. The gun hit the floor, his fingers had completely let go of it. He was shaking. Suddenly he was on his side, everything was moving so quickly.

He clawed his fingers at his arms, which already had many long cuts along them. They ended about six centimeters before the wrists, very specific cuts. He bit his tongue again and tears ran down his face, as his mouth filled with something warm. He spit some of it out and panted, trying to sooth his pain. It didn't make any sense, completely didn't make sense at all. There was no reason to it, no logic for why it happened. The gun worked, but not when he wanted it too!




He woke up on the floor and panted loudly, shaking as he tried to pull himself to his feet. His hand touched the revolver and he turned his head to look at it. It seemed like he just laid their and looked at it for hours, for an eternity. Once that forever or two ended, he moved his hand away from the gun and pushed himself into a sitting position. He got up and kicked a rug over the dent in the ground.  After that he sort of limped over to the dresser again and put the handgun away under the bags of hair. He pushed the drawer forward and leaned on the dresser, looking forward towards the mirror. He had holes in his nose, along his lip, his eyebrows, and his ears. They were not wide enough to fit a small finger, but he could notice them from this distance.

"Okay, you win." He said "I'll die on your terms. I will repent and redeem myself. But please make the nightmares stop."

He didn't emote, his lips moved and he was looking at the mirror to watch, but there was nothing in the cheeks. This was the face they looked into as the sucked the life out of them. But the look he had was gone, it was so hard to move his cheeks or eyebrows that much now. Telling the smallest lie was very painful, he didn't remember that being like that till after the surgery. Lies had been as much fun as watching someone cry. Always had been great sport since he was young, but now it was almost the other way around. He let out a long sigh he didn't know he was holding and pulled up his sleeves. He then went outside the door and went to get some breakfast with everyone else.