The Final Push

He had been mistreated with, beaten up and tortured, and now he was being pushed into an abandoned warehouse by three thugs. Bloody…defenseless…there was no strength left in him retaliate anymore. Somewhere down he knew he had given up hope.

They took him to the center of the floor and pushed him down on his knees. The place was dark. Hardly any light was being able to penetrate the soot covered window panes. Whatever light could pass through was getting diffused by a thick cloud of dust that all the shuffling and pushing had created around him.

The gangsters stood, surrounding him. One of them took out pistol pointed it at his forehead. He was saying something, but he couldn't hear anything, everything was sounding very blur. As he looked up to stare at the cold barrel of the gun, he thought to himself, “This is it then. Here is where it all ends. Guess no one will even find the body…but at least it’s a Colt. Always been such a fun…” Exhausted, he drifted into his thoughts, as he bowed down his head and closed his eyes. He could almost hear wife’s voice, so sweet. It almost made him smile.

Suddenly, there was a feeling of strength inside of him. It was the final surge of power that he had left in him. Gathering up all the courage he had, he jumped up, throwing the gunman off balance. To his own surprise he could gather enough energy to overpower all three thugs, who were shaken and confused by what had just happened. He wasn't supposed to retaliate. Finishing with the last one, just as he turned around, a sudden pain stung him on his forehead. It was blinding.

It must have taken a few seconds to get his vision to be clear again…at least as clear as it could get anymore. He opened his eyes, and looked up. He was staring at the business end of an 1873 5 1/5’’ Colt. The three gangsters stood towering around him. The gunman’s voice started to become clearer. “Hey Jackass!! Were you even listening to what I was telling you all this while? Or did you die on me or something?” he yelled.

He could not resist himself. With the last bit of strength that he had, he looked up, staring at the gunman in the eyes. Feeling freer than ever, he chuckled under his breadth and said, “Fuck you”.

And then, BANG.