Prologue
He could feel it, the cool steel against his cold sweat; he had hoped that the fact that he was facing death would send his body into shock, and he wouldn't have to worry about his bodily senses. His gaze traveled up to the gun's owner; if the eyes truly are the windows to the soul then perhaps his soft, brown eyes could buy his life. The face of the gun's owner was dark, the room was almost entirely dark, the shades were drawn, it was late at night, and theoutdoor lights were either shot out by the neighborhood boy's pellet rifles or burned out, so really it should have come to no surprise that the man's face was nearly invisible.
How much time had passed exactly? He didn't wear a wrist watch and the small digital clock he owned was on a table behind him. He doubted that in his kneeling position he would even be able to see over the table anyway. He didn't even bother to ask the man holding a gun to his face; he felt it wouldn't be appropriate. To add to his problems the sweat building up along his forehead had finally worked its way down to his mouth and he could taste its bitter saltiness. The gun moved from in front of his face and the bitter salty taste of sweat in his mouth was now complimented with the taste of steel creating an interesting fusion of flavors that one could never find in any restaurant.
"It is now 12:05 am Monday morning." A voice floated out from the darkness. The voice had an almost adolescent tone; he had heard similar voices from the teenage boys that roamed the streets causing trouble at night. "You had two days Mr. Bandecca, two days to answer my client's question; which if I remember correctly was regarding the misplacement of some valuable drugs was it not?" the voice said. With the gun in his mouth he could say nothing that the gun owner could understand. "I'm sorry how rude of me, please repeat that" the voice said as the gun was withdrawn from his mouth. "Wha..whatever they ar..are paying you, I..I..I can double it, tr..triple it if you want!" said Mr. Bandecca, a mixture of sweat and spit flew from his mouth as he spoke. The voice simply sighed and replaced the gun into his mouth, "Mr. Bandecca that is what is called bad business; you know when you try playing both sides of the fence you're gonna get bit by the dogs that surround you." The voice said as he pulled the gun out of the man's mouth "Maybe this will be a lesson for you to look back onto in the future, an epiphany, you know? A pivotal moment in your life's moral path." the voice said. Mr. Bandecca's eye's widened and mood greatly improved, having a gun removed from the close proximity of your vital organs has that effect. "However," the voice said "leaving you to face that future was not a part of the contract"
The two shots that came next hit Mr. Bandecca's chest before he had a chance to respond.
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