"Goodbye." Kyle went limp. I felt for a pulse, there was none.
"He's dead," I looked up, tears forming in my eyes, "You killed him. You're a murderer."
He stepped closer to me, "Yes. And you're next." I climbed to my feet, as he pointed his revolver at my head. He shot, and I ducked, kicking the gun out of his hands. It skidded across the floor.
I felt my hands grow hot, bursting into flames. He backed up, falling backwards, and crawling. I advanced slowly. He backed into a corner. I pushed my hands into his face, his skin was melting of his body, his insides were turning to liquid. I pulled my hands away, grabbed his gun, and mine. I ran through doorways, weaving in and out of hallways. Dodging and shooting at guards. I couldn't believe what I had just done. I just killed Jason. I watched him die. He's dead because of me.
I'm a murderer.
I ran into something tall and fat. I looked up, into the face of a large man. "I'm afraid that you'll have to come with me."
