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An Occupation Bathed in Blood

An Occupation Bathed in Blood - student project

He found the right key on his third attempt and unlocked the old, creaky trunk. The acrid mildew mingled with a metallic tang of rust. It made his nose twitch, crinkle, and his eyes water. The stale smell hinted at long years of neglect. Cleaning chemicals sat beside a spare tire. Wrapped in a large picnic blanket, he uncovered several small arms. A few pistols, two revolvers, and a compact submachine gun. He scanned the alleyway. Every shadow was a potential witness to his dark intentions. The stillness around him only amplified his racing thoughts. Frustrated drivers' horns beeped. Shoppers and businessmen chattered. A distant police siren sang. It reminded him of the crime that had haunted the city since its construction. He took out a revolver. It weighed as heavy as a life in his hands. He checked the revolver’s load, as a surgeon prepares his scalpel. A Ruger was a useful weapon for a quick kill; it was compact, drew with speed, and was reliable enough to complete the job. Satisfied, he tucked it into his waistband and closed the trunk. He left it unlocked, planning to return for the chemicals. He clenched his fists and breathed only shallow breaths. His actions weighed on him. A mix of dread and excitement filled him. Memories surged to the front of his mind. They reminded him of the day he had silenced the monster that was his father. The sound of his mother's scream was still fresh in the background of his mind even all these years later. He wiped the sweat from his brow and shrugged. What's one more grave? He slipped into the building on his left, the weight of the revolver still fresh in his mind. Silence. Tension thick in the air. Then—bang! A sudden gunshot shattered the stillness, startling the pigeons resting on the roof. He emerged. Crimson stained his hands—a grim testament to his resolve. He changed into a spare suit he kept by the tire and took the chemicals into the building. By morning, the police would find the car, its trunk abandoned and charred—a ghost in the city haunted by its sins. He was only another shadow among them.