Livewire

Chapter 1

The ringing in his ears was intense. The blast of the gun disoriented him. His vision came back, and he saw the large pool of scarlet spreading out on the floor. Warm blood was splattered across his face. Try as he might, he could not budge the bindings which lashed him to the chair. The cord cut into his wrist while he struggled against it. Next to him, his friend sat slumped back into the chair. He had been alive only seconds earlier. Now he was a lifeless lump of human flesh, leaking blood out of its head.

The hulking silhouette towered over him. Kyle could see the putrid smile on its face. The ringing began to die down and he could almost make out the muffled laugh of the taunting figure. A warm tear rolled down his left cheek and into the corner of his mouth. The salty taste was tainted with the bitterness of iron. His friend's blood. He screamed but either no words came out or his hearing was still shot. The lips of the tyrant above him moved. He could not make out the words. His vision was still blurred so he could not discern the shape of his oppressor's mouth.

The cold metal of the gun smacked him in the forehead. The muzzle was pressed down hard into the skin. The sharp pain of the pressure resonated through his skull. This was it. The bitter end. How did this happen? How had he got himself into this? His jaw clenched and he closed his eyes, waiting for the bullet. In that moment his mind turned to her. Her soft face and shining eyes. The gentle caress of her touch. Was she safe? His life had changed forever the day he met her. But he would take none of it back. Every single step, every single choice. He would do it all again.

What would she think if she found his body there? Hogtied to a chair. A helpless animal, cut down by a butcher. He couldn't bear the thought of her pain. In a last act of defiance he opened his eyes and stared down the pistol. If he was going to die right there, he would not go out as a coward. He locked his gaze onto the crazed eyes which looked down at him. The sick bastard was drawing it out. Trying to make him shit his pants. Well he was out of luck.

His trigger finger was twitching.

Any moment now. These would be his last seconds on Earth. The image of her was fixed in his mind. Without knowing if she was safe, this was as close to peace as he was going to get before the end.