The Not-So-Sexy-Doctor

Chapter 8: Don't Breathe and Certainly Don't Be Afraid

Present Times, later that night:

I bought a gun. It was surprising at first, how a gun store is still open at such an hour, but hey it's America. The accessory that was twisted onto the gun had a different characteristic—it was used to silence its harsh shout. I got that piece through much less legal methods.

It fit nearly perfectly into my hand. I ran my fingers over its matte black form. Dangerous. Why some people were obsessed with these things, I'll never understand. I saw it as a tool, a very useful one, but only a tool. Sure, it was an upgrade from the needles I was used to working with, but I could control this one just as precisely.

I had to glance at Midtaker's files once again to find the address, but soon retraced my steps to the same parking spot I was in last time. The desire to initiate the plan immediately was strong, but my curiosity got the best of me.

Cracking open the rest of Midtaker's file, I analyzed the contents. I saved the personal files for last, and took in the sheer amount of hospital visits that were recorded. At least 20 years' worth. I checked the most recent one.

85 years old, male. 98 pounds. Various disabilities. Dying. Very blind. Very senile.

The personal files held similar information. I'm quite certain this was supposed to be the time where I feel remorse over my plans of killing for the man, but I found that I felt not much of anything. I just gazed over the file's detail, tucking information on this patient away like I would any other day. But of course, there comes the times when you have to put on the gloves and ready your needle.

Like before, I took the same passage from car to house. The living room was still bursting with the useless pieces, except this time a small mirror light was glowing within the bathroom. I caught my heart, but saw it was just left on from when Sarah was down here earlier. Exhaling, I granted myself access to Clarence's room.

It was the same as it was before, but now the clock read differently and the breathing seemed impossibly additional labored than it was before.

If I wasn't going to kill him, he sure is going to get killed by his own body, I thought, and raised the gun. Neatly tucked against Clarence's temple, the gun was steadied and gleaming. It should be clean. Brittle. There's no need for any unnecessary mess----

A shocked scream cut in. Loud. Piercing. Sarah.

I snapped my neck over. She stood in the doorway white and drained, with her glossy eyes shaken wide and her mouth twisted in fear.

I raised my hand and shot her.

An explosion of noise swallowed the room. The gun silencer was either given to me fake or loose. I've shot guns before, yet the tremor made it feel as though I was the who had a bullet in me.

The explosion of noise was gone seemingly in an instant, and a penetrating silence immediately filled the crater. It was even more startling.

My eyes were molded to where Sarah's body now rested like an obscure statue, with a red hole carved into her forehead. It was beautiful. I never even heard her body fall, didn't even feel like I saw it, either.

A choked sob sliced through the silence. I cracked my eyes to the old man beside me, who stared deeply back in confused terror. He was frozen in time.

I could hear it then, in the corners of my mind, the sound of sirens. It felt like a pulse, but I now realized it was police. I wanted to be in my car, I wanted to go home.

I ran.