Bounty Hunter Karma

A man walks into a bar. A woman with the symbol of the bounty hunters stands up, shaking. "What the f**k? I just killed you.

The bar was crowded as usual and the afternoon crowd was the same as the morning crowd, who in turn, was the same as the evening crowd. Basically, it was always packed full of the same derelicts who squandered their lives with obscene amounts of alcohol. This, my friend, is the perfect place for a bounty hunter of my caliber. No one of any real significance would ever step foot into my safe zone, and more importantly, no would ever think to come here to seek revenge on the woman who murdered their loved one. But what about one of my actual victims? You are probably thinking *But all your victims should be dead?*. Yes, you fool, obviously, but not this guy. There he was, not a scratch on him, gently glowing below the neon four leaf clover that hung over the entrance of the bar.

I wanted to stand up and scream, it took every ounce of my being to resist blurting out *What the f**k? I just killed you*. But why, why in God's name would I ever do that? I scoped this punk down from five blocks away. He knows me about as well as he knows the telemarketer that never got through to his cell phone. I had no intention of claiming murder. So what did I do? I sat in my little corner spot drinking some beer, my eyes wide as ever while I watched his every move.

For nearly an hour, he sat up at the bar, and sipped on some fruity cocktail. He seemed upbeat, almost joyful, as he attempted to flirt with a patron a few bar stools away. It wasn't till after she got up to use the restroom that he decided to tilt his head back, slowly, as if he was trying to make a point, and lock eyes with me. He was sporting the creepiest grin a walking dead man could ever make, and I knew right then, he was well aware of who I was.

I felt the blood in my face dissipate, as my trembling hands sloshed my beer around. I hopped up from the table, threw a twenty down and attempted to casually walk out of the bar. I stared straight ahead, my slow pace made the walk seem like an eternity Right before I was about to leave, he yelled in my direction.

"Wait, wait! You can't go yet! You aren't going to buy me a drink?", he said, his tone soft and inviting, so much so that it made every hair follicle on my body stand straight up.

I stood still for a few seconds in the silent bar, not a person was talking.

"M-me?", I said back, stupidly stuttering like a frightened child.

"Who else would I be talking to? You are the one who shot me, isn't that right?"

"What in the hell are you talking about? I didn't shoot nobody!", I said, my eyes bounced to everyone at the bar. As I looked around, I realized not a single soul was moving. The whole place was frozen, and after a few long moments, it became apparent that no one was even blinking. They were all in some weird daze. Everyone, but him.

"Well, someone put this gaping hole in my chest", he said as he began to unbutton his shirt. My eyes widened in horror as the exposed gun wound lay open, his inflated lungs and his beating heart visibly moving.

"Now, do you see? Do you see what you did to me? Why in the world would you do this to an innocent person? What would possibly provoke you to end a stranger's life for no reason? Was it money? Was it for your blood lust? Could it be you are addicted to both? What kind of sick f**k kills for a living? Are you really that fucked up? Answer me, you dumb b***h! Are you the sick f**k that shot me or not?", he screamed at me, the veins in his neck bulged as blood started spewing from the open gunshot wound.

I sprinted toward the door, my legs exploding with adrenaline. I slammed into it hard, thinking the saloon style door would push open as it always does, but it was locked tight. I continued to beat on the door, screaming for help. I started yelling at the people around the bar but no one moved. Not a single person moved. I turned around and started kicking the door as hard as I could. Tears started to drip down onto the sticky bar floor beneath me. And then, I felt it.

His cold hand touched my arm. He touched it so tenderly at first, then he tightened his grip with an obvious burning rage.

"I am going to kill you now and I won't get paid a dime for it. But trust me when I tell you, I will love every second as I torture you in front of all these people. Who knows? We may put on a little show for them before the finale, if you know what I mean?", he said, exposing his perfectly white teeth with a manic smile.