The tormenting visions continued flashing before my eyes. The hatred in the blonde manʼs eyes was awakening something inside me. Somehow, I forced myself up. The torment suddenly stopped. I blinked, confused: thatʼs when I felt it.

Cease him…

The two words made me double over. I clasped my head and roared, a guttural blood-curdling howl I didnʼt know I could make. I donʼt know whose voice it was, but I knew that I only had one thing to do: rip apart the man in front of me. I let go of my head and looked up, starting towards the blond man. For the second time in my life, I felt it: the barrel of a gun. This time though, it was right on my forehead. The blonde man had replaced his hatred with a practiced, emotionless mask.

“I might see you later in the Waiting Room.” The bullet tore through what was remaining of my gray matter as I fell backward.

I felt surprisingly lucid for someone who had just been shot in the head twice. The torment that had momentarily taken over from earlier was gone. I felt human. Too bad that it wasnʼt going to last much longer. Red and blue lights tumbled over and over on the side of the building. Tall shadows and flashlights intermingled as policemen came closer and closer. The blonde man looked up, annoyed. He straightened and holstered his gun then he too disappeared. As I lay there vision growing faint, I could have sworn that I heard a phone clattering as it skipped around on cobblestones, unanswered phone calls momentarily bringing it to life.

And with that, I died - or at least I think I did.