Part 11 — The Gun

"You have to be fucking kidding me..." Zap looked out the apartment window as he saw two people dressed in black walk up to the door of his room, at 2:30 in the early morning. He then began to hear a shaking noise at the door with some confusing whispering. "Well, measures are measures." He lifted up his pillow and grabbed his pistol. Walking down the steps, he heard faster shaking and more whispering. He walked a few feet in front of the door and readied his pistol.

The door quietly opened and the two black-dressed people quietly stepped inside, unaware of the figure behind the door. They closed the door and saw him, pointing a gun at them. "Woah, kid! What are you doing with that?"

"Get out of here," he said.

"Hey, we're just—"

"Get out of here! Leave!"

"You don't—"

"Get out!" Zap removed the safety and placed his finger on the trigger. "Now!"

"Okay, okay! Just put that thing down..."

Zap straightened his arm. The man and the other person quickly left. "What the fuck were they thinking, waiting so long?" Zap looked at the gun in his hand. "Best sell this before..."

Eventually, with rubber gloves, Zap was able to wipe off the fingerprints on the gun. Walking back to the gun store, he sold the gun and its ammunition. Walking back home, sighing, he walked upstairs to his bed. He looked again on the glass box on his desk. "I still don't know how she managed to do that..." He lifted his pillow and saw one single bullet that fell from the box of ammunition. "What...?"