The barrel of pushes against his temple, a drop of sweat follows the circular path then continues on its way. The man—a fifty-three year-old forgotten politician named Harold Stanley—has trouble kneeling and each sentence coming out of his mouth is followed by a short gasp.
“Don’t kill me,” he says once again but offers no acceptable reason. “My daughter’s just had a baby,” he continues. “I haven’t gone to see them yet. Please.”
His eyes waver as the tears escape onto his wrinkled skin, mixing with the sweat coming from his forehead, some droplets travel along a fold in his cheek.
“I have money. How much do you want? Shit, you can have it all.”
The offer has been made countless times, rarely accepted and almost never kept.
“You don’t look like a bad man. Don’t do this. Just walk away and I’ll forget your face, no one will ever know. I’ll even take care of whoever sent you so there’ll be no trouble for you. Please.”
The man gives a little relieved chuckle as the barrel comes off his head.
“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you. I swear I’ll give you all my money. But tell me, who sent you?” He places a hand on the ground, takes a deep breath and tries to raise himself.
A sharp buzz cuts through the silence and the man screams. He falls to the floor and rolls onto his back, groaning with every movement. He grabs his hand and shakes at the sight of the stigmata wound made by the bullet. The drops of blood drip down and stain his tailored business suit.
Full name: ‘Artificial Animals Riding On Neverland’ i.e. Simon Buret and Olivier Coursier
Full name: Damien Rice
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