Straight for the Trigger

Prologue

No matter how many plastic surgeries I pay, this aged skin won't bulge to show its young flesh. Instead, it shows wrinkles, the part of my past, and everything about the twisted memories. I envy the young-ins that come and go. Their smooth, young skin shows how innocent they are, and how their future is still in the making. 

Sometimes I imagine grabbing a knife, slicing it through their chest, and pushing my body into my new flesh, my new face. But these aged fingers couldn't move a nerve. Perhaps, I was too old. 

Snapback in time, her eyes open to a blinding light. It was morning. 

She runs her hands to the cupboard right next to her, her fingers sliding on the cold wooden board. Her hands jump and scratch each surface she touches, then she reaches the lamp. Beneath the lamp were her glasses, sitting there near her reach. She pushed her butt, sweeping on her bed as she bent her body to reach the glasses. Her fingers felt cold metal right through her wrinkled skin. 

Her dry lips moved from a thin line into a slight curve.

She grabbed it right away and folded it open. She puts it over her eyes, blinking several times. 

The door to her room opens, and there, stood Atty. Agustus Avallone, standing straight in his black tuxedo and a small top hat that barely sits on his head. He locked the door behind him with the click of the knob. Agustus held the briefcase in his left hand and placed it on the edge of the bed.

Then, the briefcase was opened.

Agustus' hands run inside, pulling something out. It was a gun, a small one, his finger right on the trigger. 

 "Agustus," 

Agustus turns his attention to the old lady, waiting for her to say her last words before he pulls the trigger. The old lady opened her mouth, saying,

"The will, give it to my grandchildren." 

Augustus's frown deepens, his eyes aimed shaped at the old lady. He was confused of course, and mad, about the old lady giving all of her treasure to the spoiled brats instead of her own daughter. 

Augustus raised the gun to the air and pointed it at the old woman. The old woman closes her eyes, trying to say something. When the gun fired it turned it into muffles of her breath. She falls down to her pillow while the blood flows down from her forehead.

He hit her right to the forehead. A headshot. 

There was nothing left but silence in the room. He puts down the gun back into the briefcase and left the room. He left the door open. 

He gestures his hand to the servants in the chamber. They looked at each other and ran into the room as fast as their legs could. The cries and weeps of the servants filled the air.