As music blared in the background, I spat out blood.
I knew the bastard was somewhere around here. He - or was it a she? I wondered briefly if the killer was possibly a babe- had surprised me while I was listening to music, Evans Blue to be precise, and tried to beat me with a pipe but only got my nose. Ironic, listening to a Canadian rock band while I knew there was a good chance my killer-to-be was from the land of maple syrup and venison, but that thought left my head as I heard the sound of a revolver being thumbed back. I ducked into the next room and grabbed my M1911 I keep under my bed for just such an occasion. I pulled back the slide, chambering a .45 round. I pointed the pistol straight ahead as I walked towards the front door, trying to get out.
Surprise! The murderous motherfuck ran at me like a cheetah. Again, most likely high on maple syrup. I raised the weapon and pulled the trigger, but the guy was quicker and pushed the gun out of the way. They tried the same thing, but I responded by hitting his gun out of the way. This cycle continued for a while in a Gun Kata battle that would give Equilibrium a run for it's money, but hey, dead men tell no tales.
So by this time, I've got the masked man - woman? - on the run. I've got one bullet in the chamber, and I manage to tackle the person to the ground. I hold the gun up to their head.
"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?" I demanded of them.
"I'm nobody," the killer replied. "Oh, and you're wrong."
"What?"
"Your gun's empty."
I made the mistake of looking to check. Just what they wanted. The killer's .44 thundered, and I was thrown back through the window onto the deck of my house. The killer stood over me, loading in a new round.
"I lied, by the way. You still had one bullet."
I fucking knew it.
I knew the bastard was somewhere around here. He - or was it a she? I wondered briefly if the killer was possibly a babe- had surprised me while I was listening to music, Evans Blue to be precise, and tried to beat me with a pipe but only got my nose. Ironic, listening to a Canadian rock band while I knew there was a good chance my killer-to-be was from the land of maple syrup and venison, but that thought left my head as I heard the sound of a revolver being thumbed back. I ducked into the next room and grabbed my M1911 I keep under my bed for just such an occasion. I pulled back the slide, chambering a .45 round. I pointed the pistol straight ahead as I walked towards the front door, trying to get out.
Surprise! The murderous motherfuck ran at me like a cheetah. Again, most likely high on maple syrup. I raised the weapon and pulled the trigger, but the guy was quicker and pushed the gun out of the way. They tried the same thing, but I responded by hitting his gun out of the way. This cycle continued for a while in a Gun Kata battle that would give Equilibrium a run for it's money, but hey, dead men tell no tales.
So by this time, I've got the masked man - woman? - on the run. I've got one bullet in the chamber, and I manage to tackle the person to the ground. I hold the gun up to their head.
"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?" I demanded of them.
"I'm nobody," the killer replied. "Oh, and you're wrong."
"What?"
"Your gun's empty."
I made the mistake of looking to check. Just what they wanted. The killer's .44 thundered, and I was thrown back through the window onto the deck of my house. The killer stood over me, loading in a new round.
"I lied, by the way. You still had one bullet."
I fucking knew it.