One of these days a comin', I'm gonna to take that boy's crown
There's a serpent in these still waters, lying deep down
To that king I will bow, at least for now
One of these days a comin', I'm gonna to take that boy's crown
-A little wicked by Valerie Broussard
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The memories of my family came rushing back to me, and my fear quickly turned to anger and determination. I stepped forward and pulled out my Browning L9A1 handgun, and pressed the barrel of the gun to his forehead.
"Listen here Jim Moriarty, you think you're untouchable, sitting high up there on your throne looking down at us, the ordinary people. I'm not claiming to be nothing but ordinary, at least compared to you, but know this, whatever it takes, I'm going climb those stairs and knock that crown right off your head". I was trembling with anger. The explosion playing on repeat in my mind. He killed them. He killed them. He killed them.
"Or.. I could just kill you right now", My voice had turned calm, as I cocked the gun.
He face had remained expressionless throughout my speech, but now a tiny smile tugged a his lips. His eyes stared into mine through the mask, challenging me.
No! this wasn't the plan. Pull yourself together! I took a deep breath, decocked the gun and stepped back.
"Hmm... disappointing, and a fatal mistake on your part. You clearly know who I am, and what I'm capable of, and still you dangle yourself in front of me, like a piece of fresh meat in front of a lion."
He leaned forward.
"And trust me when I say, that I'm going to EAT. YOU. UP. You might as well put that gun in your mouth right now and pull the trigger. Spare me the trouble.
But since we have established that you're not going to kill me, then I suggest you get on with it already, before you bore me to death."
Such arrogance, he was really starting to annoy me. Nevertheless, I pulled the chloroform and a cloth out of my pocket, deciding I was okay with letting him think, he won this round.
He smirked, closed his eyes and laid his head back. I turned off the lamp and walked up behind him. And then... he started singing. It was nothing more than a whisper, but I heard the words clearly, as I soaked the cloth in chloroform and placed it over his nose and mouth.
...
The itsy-bitsy spider
Climbed up the waterspout
Down came the rain
And washed the spider out
Out came the sun
And dried up all the rain
And the itsy-bitsy spider
Climbed up the spout again..
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In the spider's web
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