When Death Takes Over.

Chapter 3: The Study.

Me, being curious, walked up to the door and opened it. Inside was a desk with papers stacked on the front corners and a desk mat with a book on it, though I didn't read the cover just yet, I sensed there was something odd about this book. The right and left walls were lined with shelfs, one gap in the left shelf had a thin, roof to floor wooden unit with trinkets of all kinds and picture frames on it.
I walked towards the table and sat in the desk chair. It was weirdly comfy, for a old chair. The book on the desk read " The Life Of a Dead Man " but I put it in my bag anyway, it sounded good. You call tell whether a book is good or not by its name you know.
I hopped off after I looked at the pages on the desk, which was nothing but pages meant to be for a new book, so I guessed this office was for an author or someone interested in finding out things they didn't need to know. The books on the shelves were quite interesting, stories of non fiction, tales of historic events, memoirs, biographies, etc. Not a lot of comics though, I wish.
The poetry ones were the best to read, I found out.
Poems of death and destruction or peace and harmony, they were fun. The light hearted ones with humor in every word are still my favorite.
I put a book or two of poems in my bag and glanced at the trinkets.
Little glass objects, a beautiful Saturn shaped one with stars and each ring shown with grooves like it was almost real, you could even see some moons almost floating amongst the rocks in the rings, a horse on its hind legs with thin lines on its back to outline a saddle, many things made out off glass. They were very well made. There was weird looking clay figures too, I spotted Medusa among them and a mermaid on a rock. Thinking "this person was into Greek mythology?". I said to myself "where's Zeus?".
And you may think, how would a fourteen year old know of all this? Let's just say... I'm not normal.
I walked back to the desk, the drawers were hard to pull out but I got one of them.
More pages... god almighty... I pushed them aside and found a picture. It was of a man holding a picture of the cover of the book that was on the desk. It was him... the author. I had never seen this man before, infact, I only moved here recently and saw this house and was like " I will explore you ". So, obviously, I don't have a clue who he is.
Don't get me wrong, it was actually a good idea in a way, this is house is filled with treasure you would say. I'm amazed.
I pushed the drawer closed and pulled the second one. Nothing in it but tons of pens and ink cartridges. But the third drawer, had a small brief case type of box and a folder labelled "classified" and I didn't want to know what was inside so I left it...
I opened the box though and inside was a seven cylinder, gold back strap, handheld revolver. Quite the rare gun if I must say, I've only heard of official police people, etc, using ones like these. Of course it was fitted with a mussle connection for improved distance and power, a silencer and a safety catch. I was shocked to see such thing left in the drawer. I picked it up and looked at it, finally figuring out after a long time, that the hammer can be pulled down slightly to let the cylinder fall to the side. I saw the gun had already been filled with bullets. But I was scared to hold it and I had a right to be. I closed it and took a look at the detail on the handle.
I heard a noise coming from down stairs, and when I flinched with fright, the gun went up against my chest and I started to breathe heavy. My heart was racing and my hands instinctively tightened, but the hammer didn't click back from when I checked for bullets and my finger slipped and wrapped around the trigger, pulling it, which caused the gun to fire. The bullet going straight up my through my chin and out the top of my head.
Luckily, the silencer stopped the noise of the gun but it fired due to my carelessness and the safety catch wasn't activated.
Dammit.
But the noise downstairs happened to be Marcus, my brother, sent to look for me by mother. He heard a thud and walked up the stairs only to find me on the ground, bleeding through my head, dying. I figured, there was no saving me, Death had already taken my hands.
And as I saw the white light of the after life, I drifted off into the darkness...