Path to Darkness

They say that your life flashes before your eyes when you're dying. It's a lie. I saw my life, yes, but it crawled by. Everything was happening at once. It was so slow, and I could still feel the pain of dying. But I suppose it's fitting, in some twisted way only a God could come up with. You've done so many horrible things. You would laugh if you could, because you've done so many horrible things.

You've killed people. You can hear them screaming. "No!" But then you've always had trouble blocking them out. One memory stands out among the jumble. Your first kill.

You look around the wall you've been hiding behind for the past half hour. You think that this is far too boring for your taste. If this is what you signed up for, then you might as well off yourself now. You were so innocent back then. You suppose it's true that innocence is bliss. You follow your target down a dark alleyway. Finally some action. You dive behind a corner. You see him making the switch. Drugs, one-thousand dollars worth of the stuff. You take aim. Dead center, a head shot. Click. You turn and take a look at the picture on your cameras display. A perfect shot. You admit, being a Private Investigator can be tedious and boring. But it pays the bills and then some. You turn back and glance around the corner. Maybe you should take another, just in case. You never were able to figure out why he decided to turn around at that moment. But he changed your life to say the least. You were thrown on the ground then you feel and shoe digging into your spine. "Looks like a rat just stuck his nose in the wrong place." He says. Ironic, considering his unfortunate nose. You reach down, slowly, to get your gun. You'd never fired on the field before, but that's not to say you can't aim. You feel a gun tap the back of your head. "Now I wouldn't do that if I were you, little rat." He sneers. "Good thing you're not then." You say. You were so stupid back then. You still are, otherwise you wouldn't be dying. You look down the barrel of your pistol at him. He looks pathetic, trapped in a corner, like he's about to piss himself. A brief thought of whether or not you'll regret this passes through your mind before you're pulling the trigger. BANG. He screams. You missed. A smile slowly creeps onto your face as blood pools around your shoes. BANG. More screams. BANG. No more screams. You look at the body before you and smile like you never had before. That felt amazing. Your nerves are still on fire. Better than sex or drugs. Your start to laugh. The warm liquid on or face stops your laugh. You wipe some off to see what it is. More blood. You just killed a man. You shake your head and force your smile down. It shouldn't be this good. No this is wrong. But then you did just kill a drug dealer. All of his customers will be lacking in their respective substances. That's a good thing. Maybe killing isn't so wrong, if you do so for the betterment of humanity. You start laughing again. You think you"ll start killing much more now. But only the bad ones, of course.

You had just had your first taste of death, and you needed more. From there, everything was caught in a downward spiral. Or were you going up? You don't know. You never knew. Hell, you might not have went anywhere at all. Through all the commotion of your memories, you see something happen in the world where you're still dying. You wonder how long it's been since you began bleeding. How long you've been left hanging on this wall. You see someone come in, and smile through the pain.