Ficly

Interrogation at High Noon

My eyes follow his hand as it reaches down to his holster. Some might say his movements are fast, but I can still track them; they aren’t fast enough. I watch as his hand grips his Colt, and begins to yank it out of the holster.

As I said, not fast enough. My gun is already out, waiting for his gun to unsheathe. Pulling back the hammer, I wait for the gun to be fully exposed before I release a charge.

I fire. Some might say bullets move fast, but I can still track them; but they’re fast enough. This one was right on course. The bullet lands on target, sending the poor henchman’s gun flying away from his hand. Sometimes this is just too easy.

My gun is pointed at his head. The look on his face tells me he knows I won’t miss. I call out to him.

“Where is she?”

View this story's 5 comments.