There he was again. Staring at the old revolver. "Made in 1967," His father would say. "Older than me." The gun was silver, not the best, nor the worse. Every time Jeff got bored he would pick the gun up and spin it around, making sure the safety was on. He never did pull the trigger. Never could bring himself too. The cold piece of curved steel. Once when he was 13, his mother allowed him to fire 1 bullet. "It's what your father would have wanted." He never understood what she meant by that. Why would he want me to shoot an old revolver? He would ask himself. That is, until he pulled the trigger for the first time. It all happened in a flash. The guns recoil sending his arms back. He knew what too do somehow. He made sure the gun didn't hit him in the face, just like a soldier. The sound of the bullet going through the can in a millisecond rang in the air. He picked up the can and saw the hole it left. This is why. This is what he wanted.
YOU ARE READING
Behind the Screen
Mystery / ThrillerJeff Quincy always thought of himself as a loner. He'd always play solo in games and never felt much compassion. Until a fairly new player steps into his life. Introducing herself as RadRuby in game. The two find they have a lot of potential togethe...