The Killing Game

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.