Page 4 of Sinister Games

His eyes narrowed. For the first time, he looked down at the gun in my hand before returning his intense glare to mine. “You better shoot to kill, because when I get my hands on you, there… will… be… no… mercy.”

His words were slow and methodical. Like with everything else, he wanted to make sure I felt the painful impact of every syllable.

Trapped by his gaze, I couldn’t move.

Then, peeking through a small slit in the closed curtains, a delicate shaft of golden light stretched between us. Dawn was approaching.

A new day.

A new little death.

The high-pitched, light tone of a nightingale pierced the silence. A bird that symbolized love… and freedom.

He was right. He would show me no mercy. This was the only way. My right finger began to curl.

Richard’s eyes widened. I watched as the sharply defined muscles in his chest and abdomen tensed then shifted as his toned body pushed forward in a lunge.

He was too late.

I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger.

The roar of the gun drowned out the nightingale’s soft song.

As I said, my life was complicated.

---