The Warehouse
The gun trembled in my hands as a flash of terror shot
through his eyes. It had finally come to this. Eight years
of jubilee. Reece wondered if he had enough bullets
to make up for what this bastard did. A bead of sweat
formed between Sev Dahlstom’s hairline and made its
way down his pale cheek bones like a droplet of water
racing down a car window in the rain. Sev opened his
mouth to speak. There’s no way Reece would let him.
“Shut up!” Reece’s shook and almost broke. He almost
sounded as scared as Sev. Hell, he was. An old rusted
fan rotated grimly above the large two sided door, venting
stuffy air from the warehouse. The sun was setting. Its
light filtered through the spinning fan and cast a shadow
upon us, revealing specks of still dust that hung in the air
silently. This silence was deafening.
“Reece, my boy.” Sev’s lips curled at the corners, forming
a subtle, mocking grin. “It’s been a long time since we last
met. How many more lives have you taken?”
Reece almost squeezed the trigger as a fresh sense of
rage ignited throughout his chest. “Life is meaningless.
When you take a life, you’re taking nothing of value.”
Reece let these words take hold. They hung in the air
alongside the specks of dust. “You should know, you’re
the one who taught me this.”
“And you were my star pupil.” Sev’s grin widened into a
broad smile revealing a worn down golden tooth which
sparkled along with his dark green eyes.
He began to shout. “Imagine that! My pathetic lil’ lapdog
hitman, back to haunt me from the pig house?” He spat
out the words ‘pig house’ as if they were rotten.
An explosion shattered the dense atmosphere sending a
bullet slamming into the dirt beside Sev’s feet, shooting an
eruption of dust into the air. As if an unknown force collided with him, Sev was hurled backwards to the ground,
cracking his head onto the cold concrete floor. Reece’s
hand was numb. The force of the gunshot knocked him
back a few paces and sent a shockwave through his
bones that rattled his innards. The disturbed specks in the
air spiraled. Reece let out a sigh that felt as though it had
been cooped up inside for far too long. Had he forgotten
to breathe?
As quickly as he went down, Sev sat up and scrambled
a few feet from Reece. A new sense of terror escaped
his gaping black pupils as Reece advanced upon him.
“You crazy bastard! Why’re you doing this?” His voice
trailed away as Reece snatched him from the ground by
his collar and knelt beside him. “Why?” he asked, glaring
into Sev’s distracted eyes, which were fixated on the cold
barrel of the gun pressed against his temple. Rage boiled
up within Reece once again. “Look at me!”
Sev locked eyes with Reece’s as an echo of the sudden
yell was drowned by the suspenseful air. His irises were
vibrating uncontrollably.
“It was all your plan, Sev Dahlstrom!” Reece said with a
loud, but calm voice, “To hire lost orphans, brainwash
us to do your dirty work - all in the name of power and
money!” The colour of his knuckles faded as his grip on
the gun tightened. “You knew that children would eventually get caught, arrested and sent to jubilee after just a few
kills. And in that small time, most of the enemies of your
pathetic drug trade would be dead.” On the word ‘pathetic’, a spray of saliva spread itself over Sev’s face and
mixed with the sweat.
Silence flooded the warehouse once more. A dense
shadow of the fan past slowly between Reece’s and
Sev’s face