A Madman, A Deadman and a GunMature

Zelos' strained facial features twisted into a scowl as he snapped his little black book shut. This was the last one, a weeping form of a man lay on the floor. Writhing in a pool of his own blood and shit, pathetic was an understatement.

Zelos had tracked the man for miles, this man was the key to his undoing. With a flick of his thumb he cocked his pistol and aimed it for the mans head. His wide, blood shot eyes gleamed with sick satisfaction as his prey begged for his life. The man's name was Mustaro, an old friend some might say. Zelos wouldn't, Zelos didn't have friends and nor, thanks to this man, did he have any allies left.


A single bullet lodged expertly between his quarries streaming eyes as he looked down the barrel of the gun. Now they saw nothin, nothing but an empty black in the coldness of death.

His task completed he returned his gun securly to its holster an departed the dark room he had chased Mustaro to. Unceremoniously kicking the corpse as he left. He reached into his left pocket and drew out a small black book, flicking through it he mentally checked off that name from his list.

He was growing drowzy, his eyes fogged over with the tiredness of not sleeping for three days. He rarely slept, for his dreams were the only place that he did not control. His dreams weren't fragmentalised scenes from his dark, sadistic imagination but very real snapshots of memory. Memories forever burned into his very soul and that Zelos was keen to not relive.

He strode from the building into the street, ignoring the convey of vehicles that continued down the road. He checked his right arm was still fastened, it was. An old wound he had once recieved whilst playing a sickening sport known as 'The Bloodbox' had caused him to lose his right arm and now was replaced by a plastic stump.

He moved briskly to his car, parked and still running outside. The windows were blacked out to match the markless colour of the vehicle. He climbed in and closed the door, shutting out the light of the sun. He hated sunlight, he hated light.

The End

101 comments about this exercise Feed