With a deafening bang a small red glistening bump appeared at the centre of the killer’s forehead. Their body slumped to the floor as a handgun slipped from the shaking fingers of what was almost their final victim.
Tears of relief fell down her cheek.
A television screen behind her flicked on, the loud static causing her to spin around in fear. “Say hello” came the familiar voice of the killer; childish yet gravelly and aged.
The static disappeared and camcorder footage faded in. It was of the wall behind her, in front of which the killer slowly walked to the middle of the frame.
She turned but there was nothing else in the dark and empty room except for the killer’s body on the cold wet concrete floor.
“…h-hello”, a weak voice conceded from the television.
This was far from the voice of a gleefully disturbed old man. This was her wife. Where was she?
She stepped closer to the screen, hoping to see and hear anything that could help locate Ellie.
The killer walked up to the camera and removed his hood and balaclava. What the fuck? It was Ellie.
Her eyes were red and her mouth was covered in thick black tape.
A black glove handed her a box from behind the camera. “Now, we’ve both agreed to a little game of pretend haven’t we El?” Ellie held the box to her mouth and nodded before the glove secured it to her head with more thick tape.
“Don’t forget your costume.” the killer’s voice chorused from behind the camera and out of the box.
Ellie put the balaclava back on and mumbled through the tape. “I think she’s saying she’s sorry but I don’t know why”, echoed the killer’s voice, “you’re going to be the one in trouble.”
The television turned off and a bright white daylight bulb lit the room.
She turned back around, shaking and sobbing.
She tried to kneel down slowly but her knees buckled and she landed hard before the body.
She picked up the gun, in the hopes of an un-dead killer, and fear of one still on the loose.
Leaning over the body, she was forced to see up-close the shiny black hole she had created.
Peeling back the hood, she saw long brown curls either side of the balaclava that she hated herself for not somehow noticing. She dropped the gun to the floor and gently removed the balaclava, smearing a dark line of blood across her wife’s forehead.
Panic started to set in.
She can’t be dead. I can’t have… I don’t want to think about it. There has to be something I can-
-the hole looked different than before. A different colour. Is that the end of the bullet? “Ellie!!” Nothing.
She touched the hole with her fingertip, her hands pale and shaking. It felt cold.
Carefully she pushed her fingernail at the edge hoping to ease the bullet back out but blood gently flooded up and refilled the hole.
“Fuck fuck fuck!” she looked around for something to pull it out with. A thought crossed her mind. “Oh god no.”
Maybe she could reach it with her teeth?
“There’s no time. Oh god, Ellie please be OK.”
She steadied herself with her hands flat on the concrete at either side of Ellie’s head.
She could taste Ellie’s blood as her lips pressed against her forehead.
She closed her eyes and pressed her teeth into the hole. She felt something hard against them.
It slipped away.
She hadn’t heard the lead hit the floor when she started to suck.