first post

First post

I am having one of those days. It is a really bad one and on top of it now the head ache is coming back. I should never have walked into the lobby. I could have saved myself all that was to come, but how was I to know.
The paper in my pocket is crumpled and damp now. I pull it out of my front pocket reading the floor number written there wincing when I straighten my leg to reach the bottom of my pocket. The hole in my hip is big enough to put my finger in. I stuff it full of tissue stolen from the front desk. The act makes tears flood down my cheeks. I stifle a scream. A sad sounding whimper escapes my lips.
I pull myself up from behind the lobby desk. The guard lays there bleeding onto the polished terrazzo stone flooring. He does not know having been shot several times though the one in the forehead likely solved all his problems.
I passed half a dozen more opponents’ all of them in various stages of dying. One of them sees me approaching. She raises her gun. I step beside her shaking my head no “Please.” She asks. I nodded yes and fire one shot into the top of her head. The gun falls out of her hand. I moved out of the stairwell fully expecting to step into a fire fight.
Instead, it is quiet, too quiet. I duck down and make my way through the jungle of cubicle walls on my hands and knees. Each movement wringing more tears from my eyes. I crawl around one more corner. There he is waiting for me. I climb to my feet. He raises his gun. I raise mine. “How much more do we do this?” I ask walking towards him. He sits there holding his gun on me. His hand is no longer steady. I can see he is fading fast. I am only a few steps away now. “So, you’re the new guy.” he says, struggling to draw a deep breath. It was not a question.
“Your shot.” He says. A deep moan escapes him while he is pushing himself more upright with his free hand. “You as well.” I reply. He asks.
“How is the headache?” He raises his gun I can tell it is supposed to be a fast, but all he can manage is slow motion. I feel sorry for him. I pull the trigger tap two.
“Better now.” I say as I turn and walk away. Funny thing I think it really is getting better. So much for aspirin.