Trash cans spilled over, their contents whipped into the sky as the air fizzed and crackled.
Let’s do another month of M’s prompts shall we. 101 words allowed only. I know I said I was done with them. I lie. Oh and this has more than 101 words. Sue me.
Trash cans spilled over, their contents whipped into the sky as the air fizzed and crackled. Damien emerged through the blue hue of the portal behind ‘Mac’s Diner” and looked about checking that no one was about. Clean ups really were a pain in the arse.
He checked his watch, buttoned his long dark coat and pulled his cap over his eyes as the portal swirled closed behind him and disappeared with a POP!
“Twenty one fifteen” he said to himself heading down the alley fingering the 9mm pistol in his pocket. The steel felt reassuringly cold and smooth. All he needed to do was stop himself from making the biggest mistake of his life and everything would be different. He wouldn’t have to spend a lifetime fixing the mess he was about to make.
He watched from the alley until he saw himself pull up in the old Lincoln he’d borrowed from a friend that night. All he needed to do was to delay him long enough for Mac to close up and leave safely.
Snow began to fall as Damien crossed the road, the neon glow of the diner lights extinguished as he made his way towards the car. Approaching he saw his younger self, the glow of a cigarette illuminating his face in the darkness. God he looked so innocent.
He approached the car, his feet leaving soft tracks in the falling snow, and knocked on the window. He made himself jump and then the window rolled down.
“What?” his younger self said.
“You got a light?”
Damien took the lighter he was offered and lit his cigarette. A few minutes longer and Mac would be away. He handed it back taking care not to reveal too much of his face.
“Cold night huh” he said returning the lighter.
“Sure” he answered winding up the window.
Damien left his arm inside the window as it raised slowly. “Hey buddy, move along “ his younger self said sharply. “Beat it.”
Damien pulled the gun from pocket and raised it. “Just sit where you are and don’t move” he said taking a step back from the car. “Don’t do anything okay kid.”
Damien took a deep drag of his cigarette. Suddenly, he flicked it and reached for the door pushing it open wildly. It slammed against the arm of his older self, the pistol flying from his hand and skidding across the road. A glimmer of steel flashed in the streetlight as he stepped from the car.
Damn, he had forgotten how fast he used to be.
He stumbled to his feet and staggered to where the gun lay half buried, head spinning and the crunch of racing footsteps in the snow. His survival instincts kicked in, and falling forward he reached for the weapon and rolled onto his back bringing it to bear on himself and fired off two quick shot.
As the shells hissed in the snow he crashed down on top of himself, the knife falling from his hand. Lying on top of his killer his younger self looked into the eyes of the man beneath him, and in that moment a look of recognition flashed across his face.
“Oh Fu…” Damien said as he felt his younger self go limp, his body already disappearing into nothingness…
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