Close
Summary: Prequel to Paradise and a sequel to Gone. One piece of metal, could bring me to you. One movement, can release me.
Rating: PG-13 unless someone coming close to.. death seems to make you go into nightmares.
A/N: For those who asked me to go deeper into this line of stories, I welcome you to 'Close'. Yes, there is another piece coming.
Close
She hated guns.
That was the first line that came to his head as he open the drawer in his desk. In it lay a gun and four golden bullets. His hand stroked the silver metal of the gun, and he picked it up in a careful manner.
He looked at the barrel for while, remembering when she'd told him she didn't do guns. Had he been surprised. A woman that had been raised to be a soldier, detested guns. But that was not the only occassion she'd managed to surprise him on.
There were so many others, he'd lost track of them.
And there were none to come anymore. One phonecall had changed his life forever. One sentence, had been enough to draw him to a drawer he hadn't opened since the day he'd been told that his legs wouldn't work again, ever.
"I'm sorry... She's gone." A short sentence. A hundred words behind them.
She'd been murdered, by hunters for her kind. They'd called her a 'Cold blooded killer'. But when they pulled the trigger, they'd putten themselves in that position. And called themselves saviours.
He put the gun down on his desk, and picked up a bullet. His fingers curled up around it, and he observed it closely.
This would be his release. The little piece of metal with a deadly effect. He lay the bullet down next to the gun, and looked at his computer screen.
With one hand, he pressed the button on the monitor. The screen went black, and the humming died away slowly.
When it had faded away, he picked up his gun again. As he slid out the chamber, he felt the uncomfortable feeling that some one was watching him. He turned, and saw nothing. Shaking it off, he picked up the bullet and slid it into the chamber.
With a click, he slid the chamber back into the gun. This was it then. He released the safety and pointed the barrel at the right side of his head. His finger slid down to the trigger and rested there.
He wanted to pull the trigger so badly, just to join her. But there was something holding him back, and he knew it.
For a few minutes he sat there, frozen. Staring at a black computer screen. Then he pushed out the chamber again. As he turned the gun, the bullet fell onto the desk. For few seconds it rolled over the surface, stopping just inches before it could fall off.
He put down the gun onto his desk, and felt the tension that had been hanging the room rise, as he reached out to put his computer system back on.
The gun lay on the table, forgotten. His mind was only concentrating on one thing.
Revenge.
Summary: Prequel to Paradise and a sequel to Gone. One piece of metal, could bring me to you. One movement, can release me.
Rating: PG-13 unless someone coming close to.. death seems to make you go into nightmares.
A/N: For those who asked me to go deeper into this line of stories, I welcome you to 'Close'. Yes, there is another piece coming.
Close
She hated guns.
That was the first line that came to his head as he open the drawer in his desk. In it lay a gun and four golden bullets. His hand stroked the silver metal of the gun, and he picked it up in a careful manner.
He looked at the barrel for while, remembering when she'd told him she didn't do guns. Had he been surprised. A woman that had been raised to be a soldier, detested guns. But that was not the only occassion she'd managed to surprise him on.
There were so many others, he'd lost track of them.
And there were none to come anymore. One phonecall had changed his life forever. One sentence, had been enough to draw him to a drawer he hadn't opened since the day he'd been told that his legs wouldn't work again, ever.
"I'm sorry... She's gone." A short sentence. A hundred words behind them.
She'd been murdered, by hunters for her kind. They'd called her a 'Cold blooded killer'. But when they pulled the trigger, they'd putten themselves in that position. And called themselves saviours.
He put the gun down on his desk, and picked up a bullet. His fingers curled up around it, and he observed it closely.
This would be his release. The little piece of metal with a deadly effect. He lay the bullet down next to the gun, and looked at his computer screen.
With one hand, he pressed the button on the monitor. The screen went black, and the humming died away slowly.
When it had faded away, he picked up his gun again. As he slid out the chamber, he felt the uncomfortable feeling that some one was watching him. He turned, and saw nothing. Shaking it off, he picked up the bullet and slid it into the chamber.
With a click, he slid the chamber back into the gun. This was it then. He released the safety and pointed the barrel at the right side of his head. His finger slid down to the trigger and rested there.
He wanted to pull the trigger so badly, just to join her. But there was something holding him back, and he knew it.
For a few minutes he sat there, frozen. Staring at a black computer screen. Then he pushed out the chamber again. As he turned the gun, the bullet fell onto the desk. For few seconds it rolled over the surface, stopping just inches before it could fall off.
He put down the gun onto his desk, and felt the tension that had been hanging the room rise, as he reached out to put his computer system back on.
The gun lay on the table, forgotten. His mind was only concentrating on one thing.
Revenge.