Bullet Holes

I have recently come across several writing prompts and decided I had to use them. . The image for this story is the writing prompt. Let me know if you try it, I would love to read them.

After fumbling with the lock on the door, I was finally allowed to enter the room. On the floor in front of me, traced in jagged bullet holes as if it were connect the dots, were the words; WE HAD A DEAL. I sighed and pulled my own gun out of its holster on my belt. I knew this would happen. I had hoped I would have a little more time.

My finger on the trigger of my pistol, I walked slowly through the house, checking each room. The place was trashed. They hadn't stolen anything or broken anything valuable. I laughed a little. They thought they were going to scare me into bringing them what they wanted. They have no idea. I thought.

I had recently made a deal with a small gang. The deal was; they give me ten thousand dollars and I bring them military-grade weapons. That’s how I make my money. I am professional con artist. They didn’t know it, but my own gang was at least twice the size of theirs. I took out my phone and called my second-in-command; Patrick, better known as Snake.

“Hello?” He answered quickly.

                “Patrick, I think it’s time to clear out the storage locker.” I said, using the code we came up with long ago.

                “You got everything you want out of it?” He asked.

                “Yup.” I said. “I’ll bring it home tonight. Tell the boys I’ll come help ‘em clean tonight.”

                “I'm on it, boss.”

                “Good.” I said. After I hang up the phone, I checked the house one more time, then started to organize things. I pulled a rug over the bullet holes; a temporary solution until I could get it fixed. When I was done, I got ready to meet up with the gang. I dressed in tight black clothes, tucked my long black hair into a ski mask. I put on my belt and put two pistols in the holsters. Then I strapped a semi-automatic rifle to my back and pulled a loose black coat over it.

                I waited until almost midnight to leave my house. I used the rooftops to get to the gang’s hideout; an abandoned office building. I made it to the hideout without being seen, as always. I opened the door and stepped in. The rest of the gang was already there.

                “Ready?” Snake asked when he saw me. I just nodded and made my way through the crowd. The room fell silent as I walked to the front of the room. I turned to address the gang.

                “We outnumber them, two to one.” I said. “We’ve got nothing to worry about. This one is personal; they tried to threaten me. So I only want you to kill who you have to. The rest of them will be severely punished. And leave the leader for me. But don’t let him get away. Got it?” A roar of agreement rippled through the crowd. “Then let’s move out!”

I turned and jumped through the window, the rest of the gang following. We quickly scaled the side of the hideout and ran along the rooftops until we came to the place where the other gang stayed. If only I had known what was going to happen. If I had known what was waiting for us, I never would have sent my boys in there. It didn’t take us long to get to the other gang’s hideout. I kicked down the door and we stormed the place. But they were ready for us.

They had reinforcements. Cops, other gangs, random criminals; they had an army. They shot down my boys as fast as they came through the door. I should have called them back. But I was too stubborn to admit that we were outnumbered. And I was pissed about my house. So I let them fight. No, I let them die. We fought back. We killed a lot of their men but there were still way too many of them.

                I shot one pistol until it was empty, then I moved to the other. I was saving the rifle for last. I heard a horrible scream behind me and turned just in time to see Snake fall. He had been shot in the leg. He looked up at me and the look on his face was one of pure pain. My eyes locked on his and I froze.

 Someone walked up behind him and stood over him. He put a foot on Snake’s stomach and looked down at him. He turned to me and smirked. Then he put a bullet in Snake’s chest. Snake screamed. His scream echoed in my ears even after he died. Or maybe that was me screaming.

                “No!” I screamed. I dropped my pistol and ran over to the man. I punched him in the face. He stumbled back and I stepped forward. I punched him in the stomach then kicked him in the groin. He fell to the floor in pain. I pulled out my rifle and shot him; once, twice, five times, ten…I stopped counting. I knew he was dead but my finger felt like lead against that trigger.

I shot every single bullet into him. Then I threw the gun down and looked around. Almost all of my boys were dead. “Fall back!” I screamed. They looked at me for a split second, then turned and ran with me. Shots still rang out as we ran. We made our way to the rooftops.

“What now, boss?” Asked a man called Venom.

“Don’t call me that.” I said quietly.

“What?” He asked.

“What’s goin’ on, boss?” Asked another man called Bullet.

“I said don’t call me that!” I screamed. There were tears in my eyes. When had I started crying? They all looked shocked. “I’m not your boss! I don’t deserve it! This gang is through! Get out of here! All of you! Go! Now!” They just stared at me. I could hear the police sirens. “I said go! Before they kill the rest of you.” They didn’t move.

“It’s not your fault.” Venom said.

“Yeah.” Bullet agreed. “You didn’t know they was waitin’ for us.”

“We ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Said a teenage boy by the name of Spider. “We believe in you. We all knew the risks when we joined this gang. We promised to follow you to the end. And that’s what we’re gonna do.” I hoisted my rifle, even though it was empty. They didn’t know that. They gasped and stepped back.

“I said go.” I said quietly. They stared at me for a moment, their eyes full of shock. Then they backed off. When they got to the edge of the roof, they turned and ran. I watched them go, then collapsed. I buried my head in my hands and tried to hold back the tears. I don’t cry.

Why couldn’t I have been more careful? I got cocky. I thought we were invincible. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Sometimes I wonder what happened to the ones who were left. Did they choose a new leader? Or did they scatter?  I wanted to go back to them. But I couldn’t. I led them right into a trap and was too stupid to get them out. It was my fault the others are dead. Why didn’t I see it? How did they know we were coming for them? Someone betrayed us.

I can't dwell on these thoughts anymore. Now, I wander the streets, stealing whatever I can and living nowhere in particular. I see some of the gang from time to time, but they never see me. I can't face them. I can't bear it. Every time I see one of them, I am reminded of that night, of the way they were slaughtered. It is my fault they are dead. Maybe I should have died with them…