Arthur slides into the room expecting to hear the noise of guns, but nothing sounds. Nothing clicked. Nothing moved either. No one is here except for Chris’s dead body gushing out blood. He raised his eyebrows, widened his mouth, and can’t close it back again. His eyes filled. Chris’s body looked misty. A tear dropped, and then another. His childhood friend died for his sake. Only five words are dropping like a sharp stone from his agony mouth. “No. Can’t believe this yet.” And then, the blood of Chris moved down and stopped before him. Arthur touched it. It feels tepid, like the warm water he used to treat him on the bed, back then.
Now, he believes. Chris had gone. Holding his gun tighten without looking back, he shoots two men hiding behind the fridges. He rose and yelled as the pain of losing his friend stung him within. A whisper was heard from a room. Furiously, he stormed t
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