The gray, swollen clouds thicken into a bruised blue-black, swallowing the last scraps of daylight. Wind tears across the land with a ferocity that wasn't there moments ago, howling through the trees like a warning. A single bolt of lightning rips open the sky, flooding the world in a stark, icy flash—just long enough to expose the horror unfolding below.
The grey, engorged, cloudy skies converge into a dark blue-black mesh, engulfing the remaining bit of daylight. Wind bellows with ferocity across the land more harshly than it did moments ago, roaring through the nearly barren trees, warning them of the upcoming storm. For a fleeting moment, a single bolt of lightning flashes across the skies, revealing the horror unfolding below.
Timmy raises his palms as he continues to back away. "There must've been some misunderstanding," he stammers in a weak, childlike voice.
"I didn't misunderstand anything, kid, and this weapon proves it." With a quick flick of the wrist, he waves the gun around as if it were a weightless toy. Narrowing his eyes, he glares at Timmy and says, "You're just like your father, Timmy. You talk the talk but don't have the balls to back it up."
A metallic click slices through the tense darkness. A deep, cold, sharp voice says, "Is that right?"
The look-alike whirls around. His breath catches in his throat when he finds Tommy standing behind him, an AK-47 rifle leveled with calm precision. Tommy shows the type of self-control you would only find with someone who's been in the game as long as Tommy has. He then recalls what his boss had said about Tommy being the best sharpshooter in town. Within the next few seconds, the scenario suddenly shifts, unexpectedly, long before their racing hearts can flicker a single beat.
"Tommy, ah, hey, it's nice to see you again." The man stutters. His voice cracking with every syllable.
Tommy's expression hardens, making him look as if he were a statue carved from stone. "No balls, huh." Tommy aims his weapon at the man's groin and fires.
The man collapses to the ground as if the world had been yanked out from under him.
"That makes two of us now, doesn't it?"
The Goon instinctively clutches his wound with both hands. A horrified expression crosses his face as the warm crimson liquid seeps through his fingers, quickly puddling on the ground around him. His breath hitches, and color drains from the man's face when he finally realizes his mortality is quickly closing in.
Tommy ambles over. Reaching inside the man's filthy shirt pocket, he pulls out the phone, turns towards his enemy, and explains.
"Being my messenger is more important to me than watching you die." Tommy leans forward. He glares into the man's cold, soulless eyes. In a deep, chilling voice, Tommy says, "This mercy is only temporary."
Straightening his posture, Tommy punches 911 into the phone. The phone line clicks. In a deep, gritty voice, he says, "I found a man bleeding down by Miller's pond." Hanging up, he quickly wipes down the cell for prints. He tosses it beside him, then says, "Tell your crew Tommy is back."
A slow, gentle breeze sweeps across the land, causing small ripples shimmering across the lake's dark, mossy surface. Far off in the distant trees, owls harmonize their haunting calls while numerous night creatures rustle through the dense underbrush in search of food. Tadpoles eagerly dart to and fro on the shoreline, searching for their next meal.
The EMTs arrive at Miller's pond a short while later. Their flashlights cutting through the thick, unnerving darkness to reveal a body lying face down, mere inches from the water's edge. Kneeling beside the motionless figure, they carefully roll him over. The EMS specialist begins a quick assessment.
They first check his vital signs to find his pulse is weak and thready; his pupils are equal and reactive to light, indicating that he didn't sustain a head injury from his fall, which is always a hopeful sign. His breathing is slow and shallow, with occasional gasps;
One paramedic slips an oxygen mask over his face with practiced hands while his partner starts an IV. The third continues to work steadily, hoping to control the bleeding. The trio works unwaveringly despite the urgent situation.
The first EMT's eyes flicker towards the monitor to find his vitals are stable, nods, and says, "Let's move out."