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| Reflections. | Started by: SoylentGreens on Apr 18, '08 00:21 |
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The decision to end a life takes a lifetime to make. Someone else's lifetime. In the few seconds it takes to pull the trigger, you can watch a person's entire being like a slideshow. You can see it in their eyes, just as they realize what is about to occur. Every image of every memory reflects in their pupils in that split second. If you look into their eyes in that instant, their memories will live on in your subconscious. You will inherit their lifetime, and it will haunt you. Maybe it will stay tucked away in the back of your mind, or stuffed way down into your toenails, but eventually it will seep out again, and you'll see those wide eyes again, filled with all the joy and sorrow, fear and security that you took from them. This will only cumulate with every dying gaze you witness. As the trigger beneath Shepard's finger pulled back, the man at the other end of the barrel saw his first kiss. When the hammer began to click, he saw his marriage, and when the hammer struck the primer, he saw his first child, his son, baseball mitt in hand. His daughter soon followed, dressed in pink, with such curly yellow hair. By the time the bullet exited the barrel and the muzzle flashed, he was saying grace with his family just last week. Once the bullet finally penetrated his abdomen, he had returned to the present, falling backwards onto the pavement, lifeless. Shepard stepped forward, his revolver still at the ready, focused on the man's chest still. He raised the barrel up to the man's head, and fired another round into the forehead, ensuring the death. His mistake came in a passing glance at the man's still-open eyes, the remnants of the extinguished life still drifting past. Shepard quickly averted his gaze, shaken slightly, but composed himself immediately, having had the experience before. Taking a breath, he bent down to the bloodied corpse, and removed the gun from his lukewarm hand. He tucked the weapon inside of his jacket, and then patted the man down for any valuables. He returned to his feet $47 wealthier, and with a new watch around his wrist, slightly tarnished by fresh blood. Shepard took another moment not to stare at the man, but rather, to stare through him, with his own dead gaze. It seemed like this was getting easier, just so long as he remembered the cardinal rule: "Don't look into their eyes..." As he turned away, retreating from the alley and out into the empty street and crisp night air, he sniffled, doing his best to keep his eyes staring straight ahead. He checked "his" watch, and noted the time: 4:30 A.M. Yet, across the street, stood a pair of children, one with a worn brown baseball mitt, and the other dressed in a small pink gown, her locks of flaxen hair in curls and bows. Though they stared at him longingly, perplexed at what he had just done, Shepard continued onward, his eyes remaining fixed on the darkness ahead. "...Never look into their eyes." |
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| Very good, enjoyed that. Nice work. | |
| Reply by: Mandalay at Apr 18, '08 12:49 | |
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