Today
"You'll never get away with this," I say.
The figure standing behind me, the one with the gun pressed against the back of my head, laughs. "That's what they all say. And you know what, Chris?" The gun presses harder against my skull. "They're always wrong."
I have a second, perhaps two, to wonder if I should make a move, throw myself forward, dive to one side, maybe even drop back and try to knock the gun out of his hand… but a second is too long. I hear a thunderous explosion, I feel a sudden pain...
...and then I know nothing more...
19th place (out of 43) in the 12th Annual Interactive Fiction Competition.
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