STRIKER

It was too late.

He spat blood into my face and stuck the gun against my head, the heat of the barrel burned my scalp.

I looked up at him, breathing shallowly.

His eyes were filled with sick joy, he was overcome with a sense of pure power.

Blood drooled from his mouth as he looked up at the one who was frantically rushing back toward me.

He flashed his bloody grin and narrowing his eyes, he pulled the trigger.