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Kill Me!

Kill Me! Short Story

by Cosmas Nwokafor


When I found her in the thicket where she had taken refuge in the hope of escaping again, she knew it was over for her.

I could have unsheathed my gun, leaned the cannon on her temple and squeezed the trigger... She would have collapsed in the middle of the leaves and twigs. I would not have bothered to bury him. What's the point‽

Soon insects would have colonized the red hole left by the bullet. Then at night, the scavengers would have eaten the meal I had given them. This is how I conceived the disappearance of a corpse abandoned to nature.

Yes, I could have, I should have killed her there, accomplished my mission, finished the job.

But his cry destabilized me: "KILL ME! "

Before I imagined the slow degradation of his body, I had looped the film of his last moments as I wanted them. She would have dropped to her knees at my feet, imploring me to leave her alive. With a furious kick I would have pushed her away. But she was standing up and staring into mine before screaming, "KILL ME!" 

I did not expect that, and she knew it. No doubt she had even calculated it. She took advantage of the surprise effect to rush towards the plain. I could have shot her well in the back before she left the forest. But I did not want that. I wanted her to feel the coldness of the metal before sinking. I wanted to see her terrified face and see mine. So I...

Unlike me, she was athletic and ran fast. While barely out of the wood, I was already struggling, she walked the meadow without difficulty.

The wild grass beneath her polished shoes danced a wild farandole and the sun revealed the silhouette of her legs through her blue summer dress printed with large pale yellow flowers. Her broad-brimmed hat, adorned with a lovely ribbon matching her dress, had a halo of light. She was beautiful, too beautiful, cruelly beautiful... but she was my enemy and had to die.

She spun, spun, without ever turning around, with no doubt in her heart the mad hope that gave her wings.

We had both been running for long minutes. My breath was running out and burning my chest. When the muscular pains appeared on my calves, she had not slowed down. In any case, that's what I was convinced at the time, as the gap between us had widened. She would not escape me this time! Quit changing my plans and sacrificing some scenes from my deadly scenario.

I had nothing of an athlete, but I was a famous shooter, and there was still time to realize my evil design.

I stopped, and I grabbed my revolver before aiming, coldly, between the two shoulder blades. There was no more hate, just technique, speed and accuracy. This gesture, I had repeated hundreds of times. I realized it like a robot: firmly hold the stick without tension; to pass my finger in the trigger guard; mount the weapon at eye level; press the trigger lightly to the hard point; block my breathing; align the weapon with the target; block the arms; press the trigger...

The shot is gone. Her body twitched under the impact, then wobbled on her legs unable to carry her. Her hat flew in the air, hovering in a majestic arc before falling back a few meters from her.

I pressed the pace and before even reaching her body, I uttered a long cry of victory: ''YAOUOUOUOU!" Throwing the hat off my Christmas cowboy outfit last. Muriel got up to join me and jumped on my neck. We burst out laughing under the rising July sun.

The holidays started well!

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