The old man awoke with a small gasp. His bedclothes clung to his skin with sweat, the outline of his body heaving in shallow, wheezing breaths that rattled through his chest like the crackling of ancient yellow paper. He licked his lips nervously, settling back into his rumpled sheets. His dream had been a vivid one—filled with specks and spatters of ruby and scarlet. He shuddered. The ghosts of his past were never content to stay there. He closed his eyes, his breathing slowing. It was only a dream. Only a dream… His thoughts drifted, sunk into mindless, swirling blackness.
His eyes snapped open, and he lifted his head inches above his pillow. Had he heard a sound? The old man swept his steely grey gaze over his room. An oaken bookshelf, filled to the brim with countless leather-bound volumes. The small black-and-white television his son had bought him for his sixtieth birthday, perched atop a tiny wicker chair. The small revolver on his night stand—a precaution. He’d never had to use it, but… He glanced at the door. Just in case. He glanced in the direction of the dusty, old globe, its brassy base gleaming in the moonlight that streamed from the nearby window. A shadow flitted across it, dimming the metal’s rosy glow for a split second.
The man drew back, startled. Abruptly, he exhaled, shaking his head. It was nothing, perhaps a cloud floating over the weak waning moon, or an owl in search of nighttime prey. His eye twitched. Of course. Nothing at all. He rested his head back on his pillow, a slight smile touching his lips. How foolish he was! He yawned widely, snuggling further into the warm recesses of his blanket. He turned slightly, rolling over onto his stomach. And again, onto his back, then onto his side. He tossed and turned, both his mind and his body unable to calm themselves. An odd sensation fell over him—the tiny hairs at the nape of his neck prickled, as if in warning. He opened one eye, and froze.
A figure stood in the window, staring down at him. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be… He seized the gun from the bedside table, sending the glass of water next to it flying. The glass exploded against the wall, spraying the old man with tiny droplets of water. He didn’t care. He whipped his head around to the window once more. The figure was gone. Fear crashed over him in an icy, numbing wave.
Him.. Darkness, a blinding flash of light. Crimson blood spattering the beige walls, staining them red, like some horrible mural. As in his dream, a man with white-blonde hair stood over him, a grotesque, leering smile on his face.
He threw himself from the bed, tripping against the old rocking chair that occupied the corner. He let out a sharp cry of pain, a sickly crack reverberating around the room as the chair rolled over his toes. The room spun dizzily before his eyes. The old man staggered to the door, wrenching it open. He limped into the dark corridor, still clutching the gun in his wrinkled old hands, gasping every time his injured foot struck the ground. Breaking glass tinkled somewhere behind him. The old man’s heart thudded heavily in his chest, his wide, manic eyes scanning wildly for the source of the noise.
The study door was open slightly. A small click, then light spilled into the hallway. The old man went rigid. He’s here. The shadow passed across the doorway, blocking the light for only an instant. He bit his lip, looking down at the unfeeling wooden stock of the weapon. If it was him…
It might be better this way… He hefted the gun uncertainly, swallowing hard. It felt warm, and slightly slick with his own perspiration. Perhaps this really was the right choice… Probably wouldn’t even feel a thing… He stared at the gun. The bullets within it clanked like iron chains. He pressed it to his temple, squeezing his eyes shut. It was better than what he would do… The old man cocked the gun, the cold, metallic click echoing around the narrow hallway. He flinched.
Something silver glinted in the doorway. A man with white-blonde hair and a cruel smile sighted down the barrel, aiming straight for the old man’s heart…
A single shot rang out, shattering the stillness.
