A droubble by Jim_Bogle
"Right now, I don't care what you do." And that was that.
For a second an expression flashed across her face, a knitted brow, a small twitch at the corner of her mouth and he knew that if he had said something at that moment, things would have changed. But instead he reached into his pocket and she didn't even have time to scream as he yanked out the pistol and shot her between the eyes.
The smoke was not like you see in the films. It was barely a vapour and the fine ash powder just wisped across the plastic table cloth, only the sharp metallic smell lingering. The small dark hole was just starting to bleed, crimson blood trailing across the contours of her pallid skin, brighter and more vivid than he had thought it would be. From the back the blood and bone and hair and brains mixed and mashed and twisted to the floor in a flood of chunks, red, dark and real.
He felt the warmth of the metal on his lips and the scrape against his teeth as he turned the pistol into his mouth and pulled the trigger for the second time today.