When Dawn Dies Down

Incendiary

"He's here!" Irwin heard the yell of Powell. "He's definitely here. That shit works here!"
The crowd, although some of them were scared, were too scared to disobey their town mayor. They all readied themselves.
"Gentlemen," Powell looked at them and said, "you all stay here, I will go kill that bastard myself, for this is my town." He stressed on the "my", for some reason. "I, Powell Wisconsin, will kill him and return glory and peace to the Wisconsin family, and of course, to Ranhbniz. Don't worry if I die, that will just show everyone that we made no mistake when we accused him, and that he is nothing but a cold-hearted murderer."
Finishing his speech, Powell came to the rye field.
Irwin held his breath. The only thing he could be doing right now was pray.
"Get out of there, kid!" Powell yelled at him.
Irwin stood up, his legs weak and shaking. Death has come for me.
"I thought you were going to continue hiding, like a coward, like your pathetic friend." Powell smiled, but that smile was evil, as if it came from the face of a demon.
Irwin was shocked. How did he know about me knowing Nameless?
Powell seemed to know what he's thinking. "Oh, I sure know. I saw you. That day in the woods, did you seriously think hiding behind a useless tree can hide you? Surely the others are too blind to see you, but I knew where you were from the moment I entered the woods. That rabbit was a warning, of what you would become if you risked your life once again. Yet here we are. I also knew someone was following ke the day I blew up the church, but I didn't care much, since one man's words are merely nothing against the words of the town's mayor. I should've known it's you. And my friend's daughter, the editor of the school's news auxiliary, as you might know, saw you screwing that news auxiliary at school and throwing it into the trash can. You were also the only one who didn't say anything and refused to blame that pathetic guy for the crimes. So, yes, I know. I always know."
Irwin said nothing, not because there was nothing to be said, but he was too frightened to say anything. Anyone would be silent moments before death.
"I enjoy it, the look on your tiny face." Powell stared at him slyly. "I've seen it before, when they slaughtered that piglet for the town's anniversary dinner. The look of fear, when something accepts its poor fate. Continue making it. I love it." He laughed. "And since you are better than dead, I might as well tell you things. First of all, obviously, your poor, sick friend committed none of those crimes. The murders, the dog, the crops, the church, he really did nothing. I did them all, and it was all my deliberate plan to frame him, and it worked, perfectly. Now everyone's blaming him. And secondly, if you're wondering my purpose for doing so, let me just tell you that I'm doing good for my family. The family where your skinny friend came from once stole absolutely everything from the Wisconsins. Fame, glory, wealth, happiness, respect, EVERYTHING. I'm just doing what my fathers wanted me to do. The moment he entered the town, I knew he came here to destroy me, and I knew he'd be better off dead. So I formulated this plan, to destroy everything and frame him. And just as I expected, it all worked out perfectly. Now, time to say your goodbyes. Sorry that you have to die at such a young age."
Irwin felt the gun at his forehead. He closed his eyes and accepted his fate.
The sound of a  gunshot rolled across the field. Irwin felt nothing. Have I died? I didn't feel any pain. Am I in heaven?
Slowly, he opened his eyes. Powell laid in front of him, his head bleeding, the blood flowing out like river water of spring. Beside him, Nameless stood, a gun in his hand.