Chapter 32: I hate decisions, especially if the wrong one could cost you your life

I have the longest title! This calls for celebrations! Although I don’t have time to celebrate because I’m hunting down a psychotic, deranged mass murder who has almost killed me twice and will definitely finish the job a third time.

All the same…there’s no time like the present. I take out my emergency champagne bottle and pop the cork. The cork hits the murderer on the head and she falls unconscious, and I save the day! Nah, not really. If I did that pigs would fly. And I’m not accepting ‘swine flu’ as an answer.

She runs into a warehouse and I follow. I don’t think, I always follow. Not a good trait for policemen to have, but why am I talking about this when I’m about to die?

Finally she reaches a corner with absolutely no way out. I smirk. “It ends here, doesn’t it?” I say. How very clichéd, especially when it’s a police officer saying it to a prisoner, gun and champagne bottle in hand. Scratch that champagne bottle.

I raise the gun, my finger on the trigger. “Take your mask off or I’ll shoot,” I threaten. She doesn’t comply. The pressure on the trigger increases.

I pull the trigger just as she pulls off the mask and reveals herself to be Illyasviel Medvedev.

My eyes widen and my hands jerk involuntarily. No. NO. “NO!” I shout, throwing the champagne bottle and gun away. The bullet has veered off to the left and has hit one crate. And suddenly, something I considered unimportant at first slips into my mind. On one of the boxes I saw in the warehouse were the words “CAUTION: HIGHLY FLAMMABLE EXPLOSIVES”.

I hate my job.