Final Moments
I push the gun up to his temple. I can see the sweat pouring down his face. Imagine it, me, the once powerful leader of the majestic Team Rocket, stooping so low as to kill anyone who could testify against me. Once, I had people willing to put their lives on the line for me. Once, I had power that would make the gods themselves green with envy. Once, I was god.
I move the gun into his mouth. He gags and his eyes begin to water. He looks up at me with that tear stained face contorted with sadness and begging for mercy. I see fear in his eyes, fear, but not respect. That was always his problem, a lack of respect. He was always so confident, always thought he could beat me. I guess I showed him wrong. On occasion he and I have been known to work together. Sporadically, one might say. I've never really thought of him to be my enemy, as for what he thinks of me, I have no comment. We have always clashed, merely to be paired together when the situation is dire. Oh well, another friend I'll never know I suppose. I've constantly admired his courage and determination over his journey but that, like his life, just also end short.
In my peripheral vision, I see his hand move ever so slightly to his waist. Ah! In the face of death and still fighting, how marvelous. I feel a grin splash my face. He thinks I do not see but I do, and still I let it continue. Why? I could not say. Love? Compassion? Maybe, but I doubt it. Then, in one fluid motion he draws a pokeball from his belt and throws it out to the side.
Two shots ring out.
The first breaks through the back of his skull, leaving him face first in his own blood. The second hits his pokemon, a pidgeot.. I walk to the bird. What a sad loss. The bird, not the kid.