“So this is what it’s come to.”

He stared down the barrel of the gun, not a hint of fear in his eyes. Just sadness. Lights flickered here and there. Doors were torn off their hinges, windows were smashed and smoke drifted through the air. Blood was everywhere.

The hand holding the gun was shaking. The sound of ragged breaths echoed in the emptiness of the hallway. “This is what it was supposed to come to.” His voice was harsh, as if he were holding back tears. He wiped away the sweat that soaked is forehead with his free hand, his eyes never leaving his victim.

He cocked his head. “Then why haven’t you killed me yet?” He waited for an answer, but all he got was a frightened glare. “You’ve killed enough people so far that you shouldn’t have a problem with me.”

The one holding the gun couldn’t keep it in any longer. Tears streamed from his eyes. “What have I done?” His entire body was shaking, and it was all he could do to keep the gun trained to the head of who he thought was responsible for everything that had happened. Everyone that had died, everything that had been destroyed, and everything that was lost.

“Go ahead and shoot me. I got nothing left to lose.” He closed his eyes and waited for his adversary to pull the trigger.