Sweat trickled down my brow. It was damn hot, that
gross sticky heat that made your clothes cling to you and created a mating
frenzy between the horny animals (men included). My hand was held up at an
angle, my eyes fixed. My breath remained shallow so I could continue to fasten my
eyes on their target.
This was personal.
I felt a bead
of sweat sting my eye but I refused to blink. I had to wait for the perfect
shot. I kept my arm straight, following each movement it made. Right. Left. At the time I couldn’t say I had much
experience in killing, but I had to do this. I felt like I was being mocked,
pushed.
Anger surged through me and I had an automatic
flashback to the words that the cave said to Aladdin, “You dare disturb my
slumber!” and I smiled. Vengeance was so sweet. My deep red vision would dim
when I saw its blood.
I wanted it.
I needed it.
I felt my lips
even and my eyes narrowed. I thought I had the shot. I squeezed the trigger
three times. Fuck, I missed. It weaved and continued to flaunt its stupid life right in front of my
face. I sidestepped slightly keeping my eyes focused and attentive.
“Can’t get me.” I could hear its high pitched voice in my head, taunting me, challenging me to
play its game.
I’d fucking play alright…
My finger caressed the trigger as lovingly as one
would stroke a child. I knew it
couldn’t win. It would tire eventually and that would be my chance. I’d rise up
as leader. I would be an example of survival of the fittest.
I’d be a supreme
being. Me, fifth element. It was the scum
beneath my feet.
I could do this.
I kept my knees bent, my eyes still sighted on it. I raised my arm a bit higher and
tightened my grip on the trigger and my brain automatically thought of Mark
Wahlberg in Shooter. Mmm, Mark Wahlberg’s glorious arm muscles in his tight
tank tops looking so edible on that screen. God, I love him in movies. He was
so serious in that one and his body… FOCUS!
I shook my head clearing it of all things sexy and
then I realized I had lost it.
No, it can’t
get away!
I moved my head around quickly keeping my arm up and
steady as I searched. I found it. Its guard was finally down and I was
about to make it my bitch. I squeezed
the trigger and watched as it moved
only to realize too late that I had already won.
I watched it
twitch feebly in death and began doing a mental Charlie Brown dance, my nose
high in the air, my bare feet tapping the floor. I laughed as I put my weapon
in its place and strolled into my room, one thought in mind:
It’s good to be king.
