"Yeah, and fuck you too!"
A man spat as he was thrown out of the establishment and into the cold of the night. The downed individual glared at the door of the bar he was just in as he pushed himself upright. He retrieved a cigarette and a lighter from his jacket, put a stick in his mouth, lit it, and inhaled a deep puff. The nicotine swirling in his lungs calmed him down, allowing him to think clearly. He ruffled a hand across his dark hair before his pair of emerald orbs at the brightly lit bar, observing the other patrons through the window. They looked like they were having a good time, it's best not to cause any more trouble for them, he's already done enough today. So, he decided to begin the walk home. He owned a car, but since he already knew he was gonna be shitfaced tonight, he wisely figured to leave it at home.
He sighed, another job another bust. Though that wasn't abnormal for some time now. He'd jump from one job to another, just trying to find some semblance of stability. He had hoped that by getting out, he could achieve some form of peace, but life seemed to make it even more difficult for him as the days passed. It's not that he's bad at his work, he can do almost anything and was quite skilled, but his attitude and mental state certainly didn't help. He'd act up, do something stupid, and he was gone.
The man shivered before taking a deeper puff of the cigarette in his mouth, quickly burning up. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to get drunk in this part of town at this hour, but he seriously needed a drink or he was going to lose it. Actually no, he'd already lost it, he was just grappling for strings to try and keep himself together. There was also no one he could go to for support. He has no relatives to rely on anymore, the few friends he has have also got their own problems to deal with, and the government is shit. So, he's effectively on his own.
There was nothing left for him anymore...
Arriving home, he kicked off his shoes and went to the kitchen where he pulled a beer from the fridge before heading to the living room and crashing on the sofa, he turned on the TV to watch some live basketball. The day was done, he put flowers on his loved one's grave, wrote a will, and got smashed at the bar. The last part turned out a little messy, but whatever. Now, it was just this last beer with this last game for the night, then it was off to bed...
And then it was time...
Dressed in nice clothes, including a comfy sweater gifted to him long ago, he went to the bedroom and sat on the soft bed. He took some time admiring some old photos he held close to him and a silver ring that was his whole world before reaching for the loaded pistol beside him.
"It's been fun," He mumbled as he checked the gun before pointing it at his right temple. "I'm coming, baby. Lady Death, take me home..."
It takes at least 4.5 pounds (2.04 kilograms) of force to pull the trigger of a Kimber Custom 1911. And one .45 ACP round was enough to take all his problems away. It was easy. And he was just going to cross that after two more... one more pound... and...
*DING DONG*
"What the hell?"
His doorbell hud been rung. Someone was outside. That's strange, he wasn't expecting anything. It was probably some Christmas Carol group hoping to sing him a song. However, he wasn't in the mood for that, so he just decided to stay quiet, hoping that they'd go away to also spare them the ugly sight.
Unfortunately...
*DING DONG*
*DING DONG*
*DING DONG*
*DING DONG*
"Aarggh! Goddamnit!" He grumbled in annoyance. "What time is it even? 11:00 p.m?! Who the fuck is out there?!"
YOU ARE READING
Of Myths Among Men
FanfictionBattered, beaten, and broken. This was it, there was nothing left. For years, he's strived to build a sense of normalcy, only for it to all come crashing down. He just wanted to end it all. However, his time is not up yet as Myths show up on his doo...
