Zero-Sum Nightmare
A Short Story
More of a proof of concept than an actual story, so the writing’s pretty shoddy. Still, hope you find it interesting!
A crowd. A commotion. Something had happened. Something big.
Someone had died.
I stood on the opposite side of the street, disheveled, disoriented. Like I’d just woken up from a bad dream. The sleeves of my pitch black hoodie had dried food stains on them. The tag on it irritated my skin. There was no sunlight, yet the blank sky felt too bright. My vision was coming into focus.
Someone had died.
I crossed the street. There was no traffic. I stood on the tip of my toes to get a peek in but couldn’t. Someone saw me and immediately stepped away to make room for me. Someone else saw me and backed off with wide, worried eyes. Was it someone I knew? How did they know?
I cut through the crowd with worrying ease, and finally made my way to the center. I finally saw the body. The back of his head was blown out. He’d been shot in the head, and lay planted face first into the damp red cement. He was wearing a hoodie, just like me.
The sleeves had dry food stains on them.
I crouched down and grabbed the corpse by the shoulder, pulling him towards me.
The corpse had my face on it. A gushing red hole in the middle of the forehead.
Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I began gasping for air. I stood, frozen, just like my corpse.
The last thing I heard was a gunshot.
A crowd. A commotion. Something had happened. Something big.
Someone had died.
I stood on the opposite side of the street, disheveled, disoriented. Like I’d just woken up from a bad dream. The sleeves of my pitch black hoodie had dried food stains on them. The tag on it irritated my skin. There was no sunlight, yet the blank sky felt too bright. My vision was coming into focus.
Someone had died.
I crossed the street. There was no traffic. I stood on the tip of my toes to get a peek in but couldn’t. Someone saw me and immediately stepped away to make room for me. Someone else saw me and backed off with wide, worried eyes. Was it someone I knew? How did they know?
I cut through the crowd with worrying ease, and finally made my way to the center. I finally saw the body. The back of his head was blown out. He’d been shot in the head, and lay planted face first into the damp red cement. He was wearing a hoodie, just like me.
The sleeves had dry food stains on them.
I crouched down and grabbed the corpse by the shoulder, pulling him towards me.
The corpse had my face on it. A gushing red hole in the middle of the forehead.
I turned around. I was staring down the barrel of a gun.
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A crowd. A commotion. Something had happened. Something big.
Someone had died.
I stood on the opposite side of the street, disheveled, disoriented. Like I’d just woken up from a bad dream. The sleeves of my pitch black hoodie had dried food stains on them. The tag on it irritated my skin. There was no sunlight, yet the blank sky felt too bright. My vision was coming into focus.
I had to stop my killer.
I crossed the street. There was no traffic. I stood on the tip of my toes to get a peek in but couldn’t. Someone saw me and immediately stepped away to make room for me. Someone else saw me and backed off with wide, worried eyes. Was it someone I knew? How did they know?
I cut through the crowd with worrying ease, keeping an eye out for a shady figure approaching me. In place of his face, all I’d seen was a silhouette and the revolver. I finally made my way to the center. I finally saw the body. The back of his head was blown out. He’d been shot in the head, and lay planted face first into the damp red cement. He was wearing a hoodie, just like me.
The sleeves had dry food stains on them.
I crouched down and grabbed the corpse by the shoulder, pulling him towards me.
The corpse had my face on it. A gushing red hole in the middle of the forehead.
I flipped around and waved my arm where the assailant’s gun should be. I missed.
The barrel of a revolver poked my chin.
A crowd. A commotion. I’d killed myself.
I stood there for a moment, watching. No one looked out of the ordinary. The suits, the kids, the elderly, everyone was desperately trying to get a view of the body.
No, making noise would be too risky. The assailant doesn’t mind gunning me down in broad daylight. He just wants to get the drop on me.
Which means he’s afraid of me.
Which means I have to get the drop on him.
I crossed the street. There was no traffic. Someone saw me and immediately stepped away to make room for me. I pulled someone’s shoulder and stared at him right in the eye. He stumbled back and clawed at the air to save himself. This was it.
I finally made my way to the center. I finally saw the body. The top of his head was blown out. I’d been shot below my chin, and lay planted face first into the damp red cement. My hoodie was soaked with blood.
I crouched down and grabbed my corpse by the shoulder, pulling him towards me.
He took the bait.
I sidestepped and swung my arm, grabbing his by the wrist. Heaving with all my might, I pulled him down to the ground, falling right along side him. We struggled with the gun, me trying to hold it up so he couldn’t shoot me. I screamed and tried turning the barrel to his face.
And that’s when I saw his face. The shooter had my face.
A crowd. A commotion. Something had happened. Something big.
I’d died.
And I wasn’t gonna let it happen again.
I patted myself. The tag of my hoodie wasn’t a tag. It was metal, cold. I pulled it out. It was a revolver.
I had to shoot him. Before he did me in.
