Bulletproof Attraction

The Witness (The Prologue)

Amelia

The body dropped to the floor. A dark, crimson pool of thick liquid engulfed the pavement and surrounded the body. His eyes went vacant, as their lustre dimmed until he was nothing but a lifeless corpse.

The killer stood inches away from the body as if contemplating his act of brutal murder, for he hadn't pulled the trigger once but at least ten times in a span of a moment. He wore black all around, only making him more blood-stopping, but his eyes were blue like the sky right before the sun disappears- dark rich indigo, with specks of wild colours here and there. It didn't make him seem like a cold-blooded killer but rather the opposite.

His hands were still tightly closed around the cold surface of the metallic grey coloured revolver as he slowly backed away almost as if he was ashamed to comprehend what he had just done. A sudden look of fear and guilt flashed over his face and for a minute I felt apologetic towards the man. Though he had just murdered someone, it seemed as if it was more of a reflex action than an intended one. At this very moment, his face was illustrated with the creases and lines of a conflicting battle of a million thoughts within his head. It reminded me of myself some time ago. After all, I was no better myself.

Alex

The moment played out in slow motion, the rifle followed the arc my body swung in, the sudden movement out the corner of my eye as somebody ran between the bushes and trees. My hands were shaking so badly, the gun slipped right out of them. It landed softly on the body, then fell on to the concrete, but I wasn't watching the gun. Or even the body. I was watching my own pale hands, covered with splatters of scarlet blood. What type of person was I? I didn't need to kill anyone. A small sob worked its way out of my throat, and I crumpled to my knees, not taking my eyes off my hands. My bloody hands.
I never meant to shoot, but my brain skipped a beat, my trigger finger pushed in surprise and a single shot fired when it shouldn't have. But then I couldn't stop. I kept going even after I knew he was dead. It was like my body wasn't my own anymore and I had lost all control. This evil force surged though me and I empowered it. The feeling was alien to my nature but felt so right at the same time as if it was meant to be the one thing I lived to do.

Some people are born good and always fight off the bad. Some people are born bad and become good through great effort. Others are born in light and fall to darkness. And others are born in darkness and cannot see the light. I know what I am. When I came of age, I realised the life ahead of me was one of anger, pain and hatred. Of darkness. Did I want that? I don't know. I was never one to commit to evil and malice but lately I couldn't help it. It was this built in law of iniquity within me that I couldn't overcome. Maybe I had lost my moral compass and no longer could navigate my way through life. I had become a stranger to many things and my integrity was one of them.

Suddenly aware of how unmasked I was, I quickly grabbed my gun from off the floor and put it in my boot, careful to hide the glint of metal shone by the moonlight. Picking the body up off the floor wasn't easy either. The man was heavier built than me, and I stumbled with it in my hands, as I walked towards my car. Opening the boot, I chucked the body in and closed it, whilst contemplating where to bury the corpse. It would have to be in a place where anyone rarely goes yet I couldn't think of somewhere the police wouldn't take the cadaver dogs to investigate or anywhere sufficient enough to hide the decaying smell of a dead body. Then I remembered I didn't need to...