Scáth Powers

I run through the shack door and see both Gina and the little beast on the floor, neither making any form of movement. My thoughts race, who has been shot and who did the shooting? I don't have to wait long for an answer to the second question. Before I know what's happening the shotgun in my hands is kicked to the floor and slides to the other end of the shack. I turn to my left to see the cause just as that Dago b*****d emerges from the shadows with a .38 pointed my way.

'Seems you ain't got a gun no more, don't it now?' he sneers.

We stare intently at one another, our eyes locked and half seconds stretch to eternities. A handful of eternities later, the girl moans and tries to stand. He's distracted only momentarily, but it's long enough for me to knock his gun loose. Now both our guns are to the floor and with no hesitation he jumps on me. He's got me bent, my head down and he's beating my chest, kidneys and face with uppercuts coming about ten to a second, he peppers some rib-shots in with his knees as well. He's younger, but I'm stronger; so I use my angle to my advantage and tackle him to the ground. We slam into the rotted wall which shatters like glass and we collide with the earth outside, swimming in a sea of splinters.

We're both winded for seconds, but he's up in a flash and with his knees on my chest and one arm, and my other arm's pinned with his left hand, he starts pounding my face. Over and over and over again. I refuse to let it end this way, so I reach up and get a hold of his throat. I start squeezing with everything left in me. First his hands stop pounding, then his legs go limp. He's grasping for breath, trying to grab at my hands, to ease the pressure off his windpipe in some way.

Suddenly, I'm knocked to the ground with such a force I've never known. From the ground I look up and see the girl holding the shotgun, but holding it from the barrel with both hands. The same gun that killed the man who killed my brother and the same gun that killed her mother. I found it only fitting that it was the tool used to bring me down as well. She must have swung it at the back of my head. Why didn't she just use it? She stands there starring at me, breathing heavily. She's wearing that green dress, her red hair looks as wild as fire, her face is swollen and flush, and she has blood dripping from her nose and the gash above her right temple. Her eyes though, her eyes burn into me with such an intensity.. for a moment I see her mother. The same crazed look in her eyes that her mother had the night she died, I have to close mine to block her out.

'Never again will you touch me, never,' is all she says. Then she walks over to me, kicks me in the ribs and the spit flies from her mouth and finds my face on it's own. The ol' kick'n spit. She hands the gun to the man who stole her from me, he too grabs it by the barrel. Standing over me, he swings it back like an ax and for a brief flash I see Éadrom back in Enniscrone, chopping wood for our family fire. Bailey swings back his ax, and I know my face is the log of wood for when it impacts with my head, I feel my skull split in two and everything goes black. 

Reviews

[N. Van Avery]

Wow, I was not expecting the ending. That's very creative! you have some spelling errors, but hell. Best thing I've read all day. Return the favor please!