Death Has Its Heart in the Right Place | Teen Ink

Death Has Its Heart in the Right Place

March 14, 2009
By Andy Binker Cosen BRONZE, Buenos Aires, Other
Andy Binker Cosen BRONZE, Buenos Aires, Other
1 article 0 photos 161 comments

Looking down the barrel of a gun is a strange feeling, but after staring into Death's dark face so many times, Jack had become accustomed to the tickles and prickles that run across your spine. It had become a familiar, a common, an ordinary feeling. He almost liked it, the sensation, of Death looming about, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. To him, it was intoxicating. It made his heart race, his blood pump and adrenaline run. It was like being in love for the first time, and the last. Yet every time that the Reaper swung his scythe on the mob boss, he always seemed to stop, never finishing the job. It was as though he, Death, took pleasure in seeing Jack sweat under his blade. They both enjoyed the mad thrill, but it seemed that this would be the last time they would saviour it.
Bang! The thunderous roar of the gun shattered the calm night. It was over.
'Here. You can keep it,' the assassin tossed the smoking gun onto Jack's cold lap.
A sinister smile cut the killer's face. Raising his chin proudly, as a young boy does after winning a prize, the mercenary turned around slowly, savouring his victory. Now all he had to do was collect his pay and live comfortably on some exotic island for the rest of his life, without worries, without problems, without necessities, without ' Bang! A second shot.
The assassin's knees broke under the pain. One moment he was savouring glory and the next he was savouring the bitter sweet taste of warm steel, the killer kiss of a bullet. On all fours, he lifted his trembling hand up to his chest: his shirt was soaked in blood that was spewing out on both sides of his trunk. He was cold, weak, in pain. Frozen sweat poured down his face as his insides burnt in anguish.
Writhing on the floor with no strength at all, he turned around to see who the shooter was. Behind him, sitting in the same leather-cushion seat he had been sitting when the assassin came in, Jack sat. The only difference was that now his right arm was outstretched with his fingers curled around the gun. His eyelids were heavy upon his red eyes, but he still maintained them wide open.
'No ' Impossible ' I shot you ' I shot you in the heart.'
Jack licked his lips and explained slowly, enjoying every word, 'I am dextrocardi-ac.'


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This article has 612 comments.


jolly bell said...
on May. 23 2010 at 4:26 pm
Sounds very very very good

ab ueno said...
on May. 23 2010 at 4:25 pm
super duper

on May. 23 2010 at 4:24 pm
i need to admit that you wrote a fabulous piece of art

on May. 23 2010 at 4:23 pm
uau!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

on May. 23 2010 at 4:22 pm
Consisus and genail

katy holmes said...
on May. 23 2010 at 4:21 pm
bravisimo my dear

paul young said...
on May. 23 2010 at 4:20 pm
historic finding

paty k said...
on May. 23 2010 at 4:19 pm
This is incredible

fredy lamela said...
on May. 23 2010 at 4:18 pm
So good!!!!!!!!

chico said...
on May. 23 2010 at 4:18 pm
Good! Good! Good!

lulu said...
on May. 23 2010 at 4:17 pm
o my mother!

charly d said...
on May. 23 2010 at 4:16 pm
This mistery is great.

renzo said...
on May. 23 2010 at 3:33 pm
Supreme!!!!

clay said...
on May. 23 2010 at 3:32 pm
Bravescu, amici

justin choo said...
on May. 23 2010 at 10:05 am
It sounds the ring, it is time to fight in this war for flight to the top

lily said...
on May. 23 2010 at 10:02 am
dantescus!!!!

katu pecu said...
on May. 23 2010 at 10:01 am
brillant!!!!!

greg larson said...
on May. 23 2010 at 10:00 am
monumental

goldy said...
on May. 23 2010 at 9:59 am
This is a good example of fine art!

charly d said...
on May. 23 2010 at 9:58 am
perpetuos!!!