He fell to the ground, grimacing.
The bullet had gone straight through his torso, leaving his back in a bloodied streak.
Pain. That was all he could feel. Not the cool ground beneath his hand, not the warm breeze blowing through the dilapidated fence, not the sweet chirping of birds out of sight.
Pain. That was what would get him killed.
Now. Now or never. If he didn't act now, he would never act on anything again.
Tensing his muscles, he pushed off the ground. White pain blinded him for a moment.
Closing his eyes, he steadied himself.
The pain was retreating, now only a severe ache throughout his chest.
He would have to end this soon.
Resting the butt of his rifle on his shoulder, he pointed it up to the ledge above him.
A grim smile emerged on his scarred face as his opponent's head flew into view.
Aligning the crosshairs, he slowly lined up his shot.
His whole body steady as a rock, he sucked in a breath, finger resting on the trigger.
He pulled.
After an instantaneous eternity, a red wound materialized in his rival's head.
Giving one final yell, his opposer collapsed to the ground.
A tight, grim smile appeared on his face.
He had done it.
He had won.
Blood trickling from his chest and back, scars and cuts criss-crossing his face like he was pressed in a waffle iron, the pain came back.
He no longer fought it, seeking refuge in the warm fuzziness of unconsciousness.
Inspiration: .com/profiles/76561198035102605/screenshot/613847892781728370
Yes, Gamera Ramen is me