Ned could feel his body weaken with anxiety as the cold barrel sent shivers down his spine. He had known this feeling before, but that feeling coming from this man was enough to scare him. His heart throbbed in his head with painful memories and emotions. Bowing his head, the barrel followed his skull as you watched him bite his lower lip sharply. Your eyes darted between Warfstache and Ned, watching them both with uncertainty boiling in your brain. How they had known each other, did it all have something to do with the building, your mind wracked with questions you needed to answer or shake.
"Hasn't anyone ever told you that nobody, kills off, WILFRED WARFSTACHE?!"
"Y-you," the officer spoke, his shades hiding saucer size eyes. His jaw forgot how to close as it remained opened like an unclosed gas tank.
Quickly drawing your gun, you pointed the barrel at the pink mustachioed man. Watching you from the corner of his chocolate eyes, you were a new player to this game of hold em up. You were different, definitely not from the rooftop shooting. Newcomers were always welcome to the game of shoot em up. It meant more victims or victors, it was all a matter of who was the fastest and most intelligent with the weapon in their hands.
"Hey, what are –"
"We are taught to reason with the criminal before we should do anything drastic. Is that not what you learned in school, Officer Ned?"
"I-," Ned couldn't even think straight. His mind whirled between the unexpected actions of you and Warfstache. These very ideas and actions made him crumble from the inside out, like an incurable dam. Everything returned in surges of pain he didn't want to recall as he gnawed on his lower lip, attempting to find solace and regretfully, discovering none. He had to swallow every single thing that happened with this criminal and be brave not only for your sake, but to deal with Warfstache as well.
"Y-yes."
"Now we can either rationalize or take it outside. What do you think?"
Your voice dominated Warfstache. You weren't afraid or scarred from the job, not yet anyway. You were also rather good looking and Warfstache was a stickler for attractive people. Without a word, Warfstache furrowed his brow and slowly took a seat between you and Ned. Ned seemed to grow jitterier than what he was before as you watched him with rapt attention. His fingers shook once more, each tremble crawling up his arms like transparent spiders. Taking a breath, he watched Warfstache's eyes staring deeply into his soul with a coy glimmer. He knew he could trust the man about as far as he could throw him, which wasn't far.
"Weapons on the table," you spoke sternly, snapping Ned out of his horrified trance. Slowly placing your gun on the table next to your tea, your eyes never left Warfstache. Ned's hand trembled wildly, fingers shaking terribly as though he were left shivering in the unforgivable blizzards of Antarctica. It seemed like forever for him to reach his gun and by then, Warfstache had complied, placing a black, standard issue police gun on the table.
"That's….that's Lee's gun!"
"Yeah. It's weak, just like him."
Throwing his gun on the table, it took Ned so much strength to resist the urge to switch the safety off, and fire at him. You could see it in the man's shaded eyes and you came to the conclusion that whoever Lee was, he was murdered by Warfstache. Lee, from how imagined, was Ned's best friend. You couldn't blame the resentment and now Warfstache having his gun was like rubbing salt into the wound. Sympathy for Ned and Lee sparked in your brain and mingled with the logical lessons you remembered. You had to be calm and cold; no emotion could slide into place and ruin your exterior. Taking a deep breath, the empathy slipped back into the void of your mind as the tension settled in your lungs. This wasn't going to be easy, but you had to do your best.
"Good. Now let's rationalize. Who would like to beg-" your crisp, emotionless voice was interrupted by Warfstache's accusing tones.
"Now listen here,I saw what you did on that rooftop."
"What he did on the rooftop?"
"You killed a baby!"
"Ye-yeah,"Ned swallowed hard and from his unsettling fear, courage he had obtained on the first day of his job arose.
"Baby you originally allegedly killed! Along with the rest of the family!"
"Gentlemen," you spoke calmly with a sternness that silenced them both.
"Clearly, we're dealing with a homicide case and-"
"I'm willing to cover it all up for you, you pickled platypus pussy," Warfstache interrupted, his cool voice tinted with a building anger that was neatly kept in line.
"If," Warfstache continued.
"You get my gun back."
A bribe was something that was frowned upon in the Police Academy, yet there had been stories of cops taking bribes for so many years. You were trained to never take bribes, regardless of the situation. As for Ned, you weren't sure what he would do; especially since this Warfstache seemed to be the cause of his anxiety. If he returned Warfstache's gun to him, would he rid himself of the anxiety? It would be an easy cure, but Ned did not settle for bribes. He was a man of the law or at least, he used to be before the rooftop showdown. Yet justice still resonated within him like Lady Liberty's burning torch. This righteousness would never be extinguished and he knew that. Righteousness had been injected to him since his first day on the force and it was something he could never be cured of. Locking eyes with Warfstache, the flames of justice burned brightly behind his shaded aviators.
He wasn't scared anymore.
"Why, so you can kill anyone else, you ass fucker?"
"You slick sick sack of shit, I just want my gun back!"
"Oh yeah? Well over my dead body you're getting your gun back, you dickless motherfucker."
"Could we maybe stray away from the insults and resort to rational conversa-"
"WILFRED WARFSTACHE TAKES NO SHIT FROM NO ONE!"
Grabbing Lee's gun, you and Ned followed suit. Throwing down the table and hiding behind it, Warfstache proceeded to shoot up the place like an old school Western. Hurriedly, you and Ned removed the safety triggers from your gun and proceeded to take fire. The shopkeeper was gone and hopefully out of harm's way as bullets rained down, piercing the wooden table. Footsteps raced across the shop as a loud crash was followed by a harsh thud. Swiftly looking over, Warfstache had kicked down a table and was using it as shelter as he continued to fire at you. Amazingly each bullet seemed to miss and at best, one merely grazed your arm. Wincing at the sudden rush of pain coursing through your body you couldn't let Warfstache see he had succeeded in harming you. Pressing your back to the table alongside Ned, you grit your teeth and shook the pain off like an itch. Bullets tore through wood tables and wrecked cabinets, sounds of shattering glass slapped your ears as you bit your lower lip.
From the corner of your eye, you watched Ned as your mind raced; what were you to believe anymore. Ned seemed like a good man to the point where he didn't even accept a bribe and yet, he had killed a baby which explained his constant anxiety. On top of that, the death of his best friend didn't help the situation either. He was thrust with a double dose of pain which made Warfstache grin and wildly fire. But then again, there was Warfstache who had murdered a family, the baby's family most likely. Why though, you weren't certain. The husband could have owed him a debt and he didn't pay up or the wife was assaulting him. You didn't know the full story as another bullet grazed your flesh, snapping you back to reality.
It was as though you were flung into one of those over the top stereotyped action movies and yet, you enjoyed it. The speed of bullets flying past your head, knowing that this gunfight could make you or break you, the mere amount of strength it took to be brave in this moment, and how you grinned from the thrill. It was Christmas Day for you and you quickly reloaded your gun. Click. Ready to fight. Once more you swung your gun to the side of the table, only to be met with the shopkeeper. That plump, kind woman who had served you with the sweetest disposition now held a rifle in her hand.
Eyes widening, you watched the little old lady cock it. Throwing your body away from the gunfire, you pressed your back against the table. Three warning shots struck the floor, each one louder than the last and all three of them ringing in your ears. Ned quickly looked around the table to see the sight, his eyes widening like yours in pure shock at the mere idea that a quaint and quiet woman could have a rifle, and use it properly. Even Warfstache was stunned by the scene between the flipped tables as his jaw dropped, his hand on the gun.
"Listen up!" The little old woman's voice was loud and completely uncharacteristic of her, which drew you back even further in shock.
"You have ruined my shop! You will pay for it! Every single last detail! Is that understood!?"
Knowing not to mess with the wrath of an elderly woman, you all nodded your heads. Your jaws still slung open in pure amazement at this shopkeeper who dominated the room like the main attraction at a circus.
"As for you two," she directed her attention to you and Ned as you contemplated what was more terrifying in that moment: facing off a trigger happy lunatic or a woman scorned.
Ned slowly rose, putting his gun on the floor to show he meant no harm and placed his hands in the air so that the woman could see them. With the barrel pointed at his chest, she neared him and angrily spoke about how the law was to serve and protect, not serve and destroy, and how those plates were her mother's from the 20s and how they were irreplaceable and how cops weren't like how they used to be and how these whippersnappers didn't know what the Hell they were doing anymore with the force and -
A lone gunshot silenced her yammering as the rifle slid from her grip and hit the floor with a soft thud. A passing car was blasting a choir hymn, from what you could hear it was 'Ave Maria'. From there, time seemed to slow as you watched gravity catch the woman in its transparent hands. With every second of her falling, your jaw dropped lower and lower. You were prepared for your first day, but you didn't expect to see a death no sooner you left the station. Your mind shattered and rattled like someone was shaking broken glass in a concrete jar, your heart pounding in your head. The sudden notion to vomit emerged in your mind, but was quickly swallowed by the sound of the woman hitting the floor with a gentle crash. Looking between the new corpse at your feet and Warfstache, your head attempted to comprehend everything that had just happened in that mere moment. Yet you found no success, for it still shook with loose nerves.
Warfstache locked eyes with Ned who stared at him with rage. Another life claimed by a madman and while it silenced the woman, it was still a crime that enraged the cop. As before, Warfstache stared back as though he did nothing wrong and spoke in a casual tone.
"…what? It was an accident!"
Fleeing the shop, you took after Warfstache with Ned at your heels. As you ran into the street, you felt a harsh gust of wind kick dust up from the road. Covering your eyes with your arm, you managed to squint through the sudden dust. Through slit eyes you noticed Warfstache struggling with the wind to press forward and escape the crime scene. This notion was immediately dismissed as Ned ran forward, clicking his gun and pointing it at Warfstache. The wind carried the deafening sound as Warfstache threw his hands up and slowly turned, only to point his gun at Ned. The two men stood in the street like statues that would never budge or erode for as long as eternity held them in place. Locked eyes never blinked, even as the sunset's blinding light tore through the oncoming shadows of night. Even through the still harshly blowing gust, their eyes never left each other, each man planning a strategy in their head. Slowly, you slid in between the men, uncertain of who to believe: your trainer, a cop with blood on his hand and anxiety eating away at his sanity or Warfstache, a stranger with an even stranger past and blood on his fingers.
Above your head, you noticed a crimson and ivory beach towel break free from a nearby laundry line. As it danced in the rough wind and slowly skirted down to the sidewalk, you noticed the unforgiving gust toss it onto Warfstache's frame. Wrapping itself around his body, it looked as though he had gained a poncho from some old Western store or antique shop. A tenant left a building next to the now shot up tea café. No sooner he saw the guns, he ran back into the building with the wind stealing his ebony cowboy hat. The wind decided to play ring toss with Warfstache's head as it threw the hat towards him. With the sheer chance of fortune, it managed to land on top of his black hair.
As the three of you stood, guns pointed out, the wind slowly started to die down and ease itself into a calm breeze. It only passed by for a few moments before taking its leave to some other part of town. Eye darted between Warfstache, yourself, and Ned as you swallowed hard. Who would you shoot at if the moment presented itself? It would eventually, even you knew that. So many questions continued to dog pile in your head as you attempted to determine the good and the bad. You thought you had everything figure out before, but now your brain pressed you for answers and logic.
Of all the times for your phone to start ringing, the song 'Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy' echoed through the silent streets. Neither Warfstache nor Officer Ned looked at you. Instead, Warfstache grinned wildly as though he had won a game of strip poker and was reeling in the cash. Ned licked his lips and gritted his teeth, pointing his gun at Warfstache. Not once did you, Ned, or Warfstache move an inch as barrels were met with locked eyes, pupils darting from opponent to opponent. As the ringtone reached the song's chorus, your eyes widened from the sudden crash of realization in your mind. It was almost too comical to notice at first as you felt the wind once more push harshly at your chest and kick up any dust in the street. Squinting through the dust, you glanced between your trainer and Warfstache.
"This is a Mexican shoot out," you spoke without warning and gripped your gun.
As though your words triggered the very bullet, a gun rang out and yet you knew it wasn't yours. From the corner of your eye, you saw Ned jerk slightly backward. Your heart stopped. The street was as quiet as the now settling night as darkness lied down on the roads and became a blanket for the falling body of Ned. With your heart caught in your throat, you found yourself unable to breathe. The mere shock weighing you down was like someone setting anvils on your shoulders and you could do nothing, but drop alongside your fallen trainer. Knees hitting the street hadn't hurt so much since you were a child and you scraped them on the road a few times while playing with the other children. But now it was a pain that you knew couldn't be helped with a band aid. Your chest was heavy as your mind spiraled into a loss of sanity that you didn't expect to come so soon from this job.
Warfstache had won and in celebration, he fired a few rounds of his gun. Each one more piercing than the last as you felt your heart sink into your toes. Breathing slowly returned to you and you gradually came to your senses, no longer trapped in the terrified trance of your trainer's death. Yet the sight of him lying on the road was still enough to make you become enshrouded in horror and reconsider this career. You knew you could be tough. You knew you could be bold and brash. But now that someone you cared and worried about was dead at your side, you honestly wondered if you could pursue it any further.
"Hey baaaaaaaaaby," Warfstache spoke, his smooth voice no longer filled with anger.
He was talking to you. Blinking, you slowly turned your head and faced a completely different Warfstache. He grinned like a Playboy and it seared your mind with confusion. One moment it was a madman's smile, but now it was a suave curve beneath his pink mustache. His eyes were relaxed, pupils dilated – possibly one thing on his mind and you knew what exactly that thing was – and overall, calm as though revealing a new, kinder side of him. You were taught how maniacs grinned during their lunacy phase and tranquil phase, you recalled how calm murderer's eyes were when they weren't on the prowl, and to think the man before you had those symptoms made you shiver. It was strange and unnerving, but at the same time dangerous and exhilarating.
"Wanna get outta here?"
Winking at you, you knew what that meant as your cheeks grew hot. Then again, it could mean coffee or dinner and a movie; you didn't know the tendencies of this man. You barely even knew this man. The only thing you managed to understand about him was that he killed your trainer and massacred a family. Yet your trainer had supposedly, accidentally killed a baby. Inside your mind, the shock meddled with your logic and altered every single thought and emotion you had up until this moment.
'How could anyone accidentally shoot a baby,' you thought to yourself.
The offer still stood on the table and without giving it a second thought, you nodded. You needed to escape. You somehow needed to forget this night, this career path, this everything. Possibly start over anew with recovered sanity and live a better life. You would go back to school. You would do anything to eliminate this day from every occurring. Warfstache flashed that charming grin once more as from the corner of your eye, you happened to notice an abandoned horse and carriage. The driver was nowhere to be found and at best, it could have been assumed that he was either using a nearby restroom in a shop, or the horse was on break. Either way, Warfstache took advantage of this situation and untying the horse from its post and carriage, he climbed onto his back. Galloping over to you, he held out his hand. Swiftly taking it, Warfstache pulled you up onto the white horse. Wrapping your arms around his hips, you held onto him for dear life, not knowing what he would do next. Pressing the cowboy hat onto head, he grinned and gripped the reins.
With the towel flapping against the breeze, Warfstache laughed with you as you both rode off into the darkness. For the night was young and there was plenty of fun to be had. What though, you were uncertain of, but you had handcuffs in case anyone needed to be arrested.