Ace Of Spades
The cold hard lead pumped into the man’s body seemed excruciatingly gratifying to him,
and he did it again, and again, till his magazine was empty.
He turned around. The corridor was rapidly filling up with men with automatics, all out for his
blood.
If you like to gamble, I tell you I'm your man -
You win some, lose some, it's all the same to me!
He clenched his teeth, tightened his vice-like grip around the handle of his dual Beretta
92FM’s, and, overcome with rage, he opened fire on them. He could feel the sickening smell
of cordite, and it fueled him. He could feel the pistols growing hotter in his hand with each
successive shot. He relished the feeling. He could see their blood spraying, flesh torn to
chunks as the unforgiving lead bullets ripped through their bodies. He LOVED it.
Orgasmic pleasure. He welcomed the feeling. But he was not satisfied. He wanted more. More carnage, more,
more, and EVEN MORE! He must have more!
The pleasure is to play, it makes no difference what you say
I don't share your greed, the only card I need is the -
He cursed loudly, ducked behind a overturned desk, and started reloading his toys. As he
punched fresh magazines into his dual Berettas, feeling the adrenaline surging through his
body like never before, he kicked the desk out of his way. He was alone now, in plain sight,
far from cover.
The men came at him like a wolf on a lamb, seeing their prey utterly vulnerable.
Suckers.
He unloaded his pistols, not at the men, but at the fire extinguishers lining the corridor.
BOOM
The Ace of Spades
The Ace of Spades!
A series of deafening explosions rang out, blowing them to smithereens. The few that were
left were swiftly cut down by gunfire.
MORE!
His sadistic urges were satisfied with a fresh batch of cannon fodder, rushing out of the
double doors. There must’ve been at least four dozen of them.
The corners of his mouth twitched, and a demonic gleam came over his eyes.
MORE.
He threw away his dual pistols, and took up the M16 that one of the henchmen had dropped.
Showtime.
The bullets came at him like hailstones, tearing into shreds the walls of the corridor through
which he ran.
Playing for the high one, dancing with the devil
Going with the flow, it's all a game to me!
At the end of the corridor, he dived forward, and onto a conveniently placed trolley.
Time seemed to slow down as he shot past them, the trolley accelerating with his momentum.
They didn’t have a chance – he was too quick for them. Never once did he take his finger off
the trigger, and the bunch of them fell like puppets with their strings cut off, being shaken
like a rag doll in a macabre dance, as their bodies were riddled with bullets. He was only
aware of the blare of his roaring automatic, and the spent shells hitting the floor like rain.
Seven or Eleven, snake eyes watching you
Double up or quit, double stake or split!
As the trolley sped towards the end of the hall, he kicked up and dived off it, sending him
soaring into the air.
Time came to a standstill again as he reached the extreme point of his jump, his body
suspended in the air, in a magnificent arch, and a pack of bloodthirsty demons below. He felt
like an Angel of Death.
The Ace Of Spades!
The Ace Of Spades!!
Still in the air but diving forward, he was faintly aware of himself whipping out his automatic
and opening fire on the rest of them, and the distorted boom of the gun as it spat fire and
death again and again, at the men below. He maneuvered his firing gun, covering every angle
to his front and side, nailing every single one of them.
Pushing up the ante, I know you've got to see me!
Read 'em and weep, the writing on the dead man's hand again!
But he was falling too fast, and hit the ground with a thud, the impact sending his gun
clattering away.
But that didn’t matter. He had won. None was left standing but him. Staggering to his feet,
he pulled out his spare pair of Berettas, despite not needing them any more.
Click.
He turned around slowly, the barrel of a gun pressing deep into the back of his skull.
You know I'm born to lose, and gambling's for fools
But that's the way I like it baby -
He had missed one. Badly wounded, bleeding from innumerable new orifices in his body, but
still standing. And more importantly, he had his .357 pressed dead square on his forehead.
The man flashed a bloody grin.
I don't wanna live forever!
Immediately, before the man could even gauge what was happening, he raised the handgun
in his right hand and pressed the trigger.
Click.
The Beretta 92FM sputtered and died, the hammer crashing into nothing but empty cartridge.
The man was even more shocked than him, hardly believing he had won.
And then he started laughing. A sick and maniacal laugh, through a mouth leaking blood in
copious amounts.
He dropped the gun in his right hand, and joined him too, and they both laughed, the
booming sound echoing through the pristine hallway, now bathed in blood.
A morbidly hilarious moment before death.
He then raised the Beretta in his left hand and fired.
.....But don't forget the joker!
The laughter was still frozen on the man’s face as he fell - a neat, perfectly circular opening
to a bloody cave, in place of his former left eye.
The Ace of Spades!
The Ace of Spades!!
He threw the gun onto the dead man, walked into the elevator, and took it down to the
ground floor.
As he walked out of the sliding doors and onto the pavement, onto the ocean of humanity, he
pulled out his cellphone and punched a number into it.
“Yes. David?”
“Anna, I’m getting bored of this.”
“Are you done at Lexington’s Corporate headquarters?”
“TE and close, 38 minutes.”
“Excellent. I’ll notify Mr. Richards.”
“Yeah yeah…whatever…just tell him to find me a more challenging one next time, huh?”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Over and out, Dave.”
He put on his PB600 shades, lit a cigarette, and inhaled deeply. He immediately paused, took
a careful look at the brand name on the pack, and sighed, clearly disappointed at what he saw.
****…...forgot my herbal cigs again...
“Goddamn.....I hate these corporate hostile takeovers…...” - He grumbled as he kicked
his motorcycle to life and shot off into the night.
Copyright 2008 Prithwish
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