gun

Double Trouble, Part II

“I don’t know what you mean.” I grin slightly, the lie so transparent. The revolver reappears in front of me, and Trixie taps it pityingly against my temple as she speaks.
“You are a god,” tap, “and I have got one over on you,” tap, “how does that make you feel?”

Double Trouble, Part I

“Whatever you are thinking, just give it up.” As she speaks, Sophie advances, waving the gun back and forth like she’s fanning a fire. “I have you covered, and I’m not afraid to use this.” I just manage not to sigh at her words. It’s so theatrical. I could be at a movie.

The Pull, Part III

The gun fired. I felt the bullet pierce my torso, followed by the burning sensation mortals often describe. It didn’t hurt, but I could feel it rattling around inside of me. I clutched the wound, falling to my back with my eyes open.

Wayward

I gripped the glass tight in my fist, and it hissed under the pressure. It was a warning not to press the issue or attempt to follow me when I left. I glared at him from the corner of my eye and drank the rest of the whiskey in one final gulp.

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