It was a clear shot. Nine pellets went through her brain from my shotgun, taking tissues out. She wanted to give me a kiss but I killed her with no mercy. I looked at my right hand, which is recently undergoing changes… What changes? I could not say; it seems to be out of control. It is just changing, slowly. I quietly put down my shotgun next to my sofa, feeling the smell of blood, which makes me pleased, spreading in the air.
I could not remember anything before the amazing kill. Who is she? Why she tried to kiss me with a smiling face? Why there was a loaded shotgun next to me? All I remember are two things: my weapon coach told me to point my gun in a safe direction and never put my finger on the trigger unless I am ready to shoot; another thing… It is complex. A man in a black cloak gave me a smile, saying, “You are one of a kind. You could release all your power, ending your useless life and starting a new one. Do not bother to find me… I am no one… I am just another ‘YOU’…” Then I “wake up”, and shot the young lady right in front of me.
I tried to get out of the house, but the door was locked. “Stay calm… Who I am?” I said to myself. In order to memorize something important before, I started searching the room. The blood and human tissue made the room in a mess, but everywhere else was clean and tidy. A notebook on the table showed: “10 am/ meet Detective H in airport/ Take the suitcase/ Get weapons and ammo ready.” The date was… Was that today? I ran to the door but it was locked, so I went to the computer, and used my fingerprint to turn it on: looked like the computer is mine. The date on the note was three days ago. My right hand was becoming harder like a piece of wood, I could almost barely move the hand. Several websites and file popped up. Police intelligence… Am I a police officer? I did not know.
In the file, it seemed like there was a kind of poison, or curse, in my own words, existing in southern Africa. Local witches extract liquid from a kind of trees, making a poison that can “wooden” humans’ tissue; that means people who digested that would become a piece of uncontrollable wood. With pictures of people who suffering from the curse, I began to believe that with a little doubt. “I… I am a cop?” I shouted to myself, since I saw the picture that I, along with local law enforcements and other investigation teams. Victims were partially wood, according to the pictures. They have unstoppable power to kill, and the source of power is the smell of blood. Those victims, in the files, were called “prey”, while the witches were called “predators”. Looking at the pictures of prey, I felt pleased. The man on the cloak appeared in front of me, “I can help you to be stronger… Do you want to accept my existence? I am nothing… I am just another ‘YOU’…” “How can you make me stronger! What did you do to me?” I shouted out to him, but he did not give the chance to finish our conversation and just disappeared. I was panic. It must be an illusion, I believe; however, the image of the cloaked man was so clear that almost touchable.
Someone was knocking at my door. Through the glass on the door, I saw that was two police officers. I opened the door… I clearly remember that the door was locked: the lock was broken by me at the moment I opened it. The two officers were shocked. “Detective M, we received phone calls reporting noise in your house. Is everything ok? ” I just killed a lady, I could not let the cops know. “Nothing happened; everything is fine.” “Alright… Wait…” The taller officer saw the blood drops on my T-shirt. “Did anyone hurt you?” “Uh… No…” I became nervous to say a single word. Two officers pushed me down and rushed into the room. I could see and feel their fear… “Dispatch, this is…” One of them was calling for backup, while another ordered me to knee down with fingers interlocked. The taller officer cuffed me with no hesitation. The cloaked man suddenly appeared, breaking the cuff with his single hand. I started to understand his meaning of power; I am unstoppable. Looking at my right hand which is becoming like tree branches, I felt pleased. My branched hand surrounded the officer’s neck; I could clearly heard bone breaking; his fear and blood seemed to feed my soul. It was amazing. The survived officer shouted on his walkie-talkie, “We got a man down! Requesting immediate…” I could not wait for him to finish; I braced him with my branches, or you can say, arm. He died too.
I picked up his pistol, trying to shoot myself so that I could stop everything evil I would do. I just wondered whether I had the valor, or ability to do so: I knew how .40 caliber bullet going through a brain looks like; besides, my hands, right hand and left hand, were becoming harder, and looked more and more like tree branches. A dozen of police vehicles were surrounding my house. I walked through the door, went over bodies of two poor guys, and tried to put the gun up to point my head. I could not; branches could never hold a pistol and pull the trigger. The cloaked man appeared again like an angel between me and dozens of armed police officers. “You are unstoppable! Stand next to me you will never be alone!” He woke up my inner personality; I realized my power, and tried all my power to reach my one of the officers.
He pointed his shotgun to my head. I suddenly remembered something: the lady told me with a smiling face, “Nice to see you, my prey.” But everything was late.
I felt nine pellets going through my brain. It was a clear shot.
