Head of The Table

Chaos again!

Eyes wide open, a sympathetic figurative expression masked his face, on his temple drop by drop leaked blood, tinkling down in streaming slight lines through his back head and down the brick floor, a hole was punctured in the center, and there he lay lifeless, still as a rock, as silent as death. He looked down, pleased with his accomplishment, glad he got rid of the troublesome tick of it’s back. The muzzle had cooled down, despite the recoil having slightly shocked Brian, he was still fit when most likely it would have drained the little he had left. From six down to three, Brian stashed the gun, the sudden cooled muzzle gave a tingle as it came into contact with his waist, untucking and covering the arsenal of death. But after this is when he came back to his senses, that’s when he became aware of his suddenly rampant environment, he had killed a martyr and now the chaos unveils itself, this time as a whole!

Smoke from tires set a blaze, rioting screams from co workers suddenly t