Still Reminiscent [Saturday Updates]

Chapter 6: The Man With The Shotgun

RedWood StopNGo Station
Time: 06:37

Bang!

Bang!

The shots of a gun fires inside the station, illuminated by faint hints of it's sparks - of light - and quickly diminishes within a second, when each shot is fired - the light as visible as it is, glows before the surface of glass panels.

After the rounds cease, a dormant silence crept both sides. The interior had no noise afterwards. The exterior, on the other hand, is provides it's natural duty as the morning hours hurriedly burn time. Eerie and dimly lit atmosphere. Birds chirping. And the forest creaking like a bug.

Onwards, the door for the station opened, it's hinge screeching. It's screws rusted over time. In it's place, a man with jet black clothes stands. His composure bedridden, he shakes it off. And as he walks forward, the door for the station slowly closes, and not after peeking inside, red pigment or liquid is painted on the other side.

The man then heads to his car, parked some distance away from the station.The man ran out of supplies so in his dire case he fortunately came across this station. In his hand he held a bag of supplies.

As he approached the car, he reached onto his pocket, grabbed the car keys, inserted it, and pulled the door as he went through.

The man then calmly put the supplies into the back seats or it was just his other seat parallel to him. The car he used is a common type model. Four seats and has a modern design.

Once he was about to finish, he took out his firearm. He looked at the firearm and, on his hand, it was covered in a red thick liquid attached on the surface - better yet, it was blood. Not plenty, only a little stain. When the man looked at it again, his expression froze. In his mind, he remembered something striking. A voice begging for mercy.

'Please! Please! Don't shoot me!'

The man knew what it was. It was what had transpired a couple minutes earlier. He knew only to reply accordingly.

'Sorry, but I'm afraid you'll be better off without it."

Hesitating no less the man aimed the gun at him, the innocent voice, and pulled the trigger blowing up the man's head.

BANG!

What is left is a dead man's corpse constantly spilling blood from it's cranium. The man in black watches without a change in thought, his hand holding the gun smuddered in blood.

It was one merciless killing.

The man then snapped out of his dream. He continued doing what he could not minding the past, but rather focusing on the road ahead. By doing so, he took a white cloth drenched in water and cleaned his hand and the gun included.

Done at last he hopped in the car, started the engine and drove off. Taking the wheel by his hand he pulled it in reverse. The car came to a stop. Changing the gear, he then turned the wheel to a heavy left and punched the peddle below, kicking the car to side onto the road.

The car is now on route following the main road to wherever it may lead.

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                                                             ?

It is in the car that the man drives - his hands and foot handling the gear, peddles, and the wheel.

The man could only watch the front windscreen. Outside it is trees and nothing more.

Alfred, the man's name, is becoming bored. All his doing is driving, nothing else is there of the sorts to keep him entertained before he falls asleep. There just right on his corner, he turns the radio instead and listens to the news.