Zero and Beauty's Breath (A Satan Sniper's Motorcycle Club Series Book 3 - 4) novel Chapter 43

Present

Death, the only part of our life already predicted from the moment our fetus is formed. The how’s, when and where’s may vary, but we all eventually die.

Death is the finale of moments, only when that moment comes it’s lasting. The one thing in our lives that is meant to last for eternity and even then, we aren't sure.

What comes after death? Now that is debatable and depending solely on the one who is doing the answering.

The believers might say heaven or hell. A few religions may have some varieties on the name but the places are the same. One meant for the good ones and the other meant for sinners. Some might be convinced in the reincarnation of the soul or like the Atheist believe- the black space, nothing.

But who on this earth really knows anything but for the paths, we take to get there?

Now, while those paths we take may seem similar to others and we have that moment where we delude ourselves into thinking that this person or people can relate to what we have been through, it is still our path. Our moments made up of our choices.

The circumstances leading to those choices might very well be due to other people, but they are null in the bigger picture, devoid of relevance in the final outcome, death.

This, here, now, in this open parking lot with a gun in my hand, I pull the trigger, shortening his story. A sudden death, more than he deserves.

I tell myself reasons be damned of why I shouldn't do it. In my case, the one with the gun in my hand, I can honestly say that my reasons are the only thing keeping me going.

My eyes don't leave his shocked gaze as his hand goes to his stomach, so I pull the trigger again. The impact causes my arm to jerk back as the second shot gets him in his chest.

He would never understand how my heart shrivelled when he killed my babies. The burning sensation that takes him before death does, is the closest feeling that mirrors my own torturous loss I have felt because of him.

Yet, even now, watching his fall, there is no victory felt, no relief of the sweet revenge promised by the minds game of vengeance after the knight has its revenge. For after that moment like all sweetened treats, there is a price that must be paid.

I look up into the bright Southern sky, waiting for something, a sign. But the sun doesn't call to the sounds of murder, it does not hide behind the clouds screaming that this death was different.

Truth is, it is not some precious moment, it is just a life-altering one for me- the girl with the gun,