Michael ran through the dark hall. He couldn't see anything and he was tired. He has been running all day from this madman. He wanted Michael dead. Michael went through everything just to stay alive. Michael began to drag himself down the never-ending hallway. He tried to push himself to keep running.
�� "You can run for miles, but I can still catch you. You can go and hide, but I will find you." Mistic, as he called himself, had told Michael. This was the exact person that wanted him killed.
Michael collapsed when he reached the end of the hallway. His lungs burned. Michael looked up from where he lay to find a small room, and a wall.
A dead end.
Michael swallowed the lump in his throat and slowly tried to stand. Someone grabbed him from behind and covered his mouth. Michael could feel the cold pistol at his temple.
�� "You promise not to scream? Not that anyone would hear you, it's that I find it annoying."
Michael nodded.
Mistic took his hand off of his mouth. He pushed him into the small room and closed the door.
�� "Please don't kill me," Michael pleaded softly.
Mistic smiled. "Don't kill you?" He backed Michael against the wall and grabbed his collar. He was about to say something but then he smiled.
�� "That heartbeat of yours. Do you know how bad I want it to stop?"
Michael swallowed hard. Tears formed him his brown eyes. "Please,"
�� "I wanna see you laying on this cold floor in your own puddles of blood, just waiting for death. Hoping for death because the pain is too much." Mistic snickered. "I love you so much. Do you love me back Michael?"
Michael was silent. Mistic aimed the gun at his head again. "I know you hear me!"
�� "Yes! Yes!" Michael cried. Mistic smiled and moved the gun back to Michael's temple.
�� "I could shoot this gun. You die instantly, your brains all over me, all over the floor...."
Michael was trembling, almost to tears. "Please, please don't kill me..." he begged.
Mistic pointed the gun towards Michael's mouth.
�� "I could easily put it in your mouth. But there is no chance you'll feel any pain that way."
He pointed the gun slowly at Michael's chest.
�� "Shoot the heart? uhhhhh too simple."
Mistic then aimed it just below the chest at a specific angel.
�� "You know what this shot is Michael?" Mistic asked. Michael shook his head and swallowed. His hair flew in his face. His round eyes looked up at Mistic with terror.
�� "It's a shot that I made up. It goes into your body so that you won't die instantly. And you can feel everything."
Mistic looked up at Michael and saw he had stopped begging for mercy. But tears were running down his face.
�� "You're quiet."
�� "I'm tired." Michael confessed. Mistic's smile reappeared again.
�� "You're tired?"
Michael's eyes went to the floor. "Yeah," he nodded.
Mistic backed away. "By all means, go to sleep."
Michael hugged himself nervously and gazed around the small empty room. He looked up at Mistic. Michael wanted to lie down, but he was too scared to with Mistic in the room.
Mistic snickered. "You're not as tired as you though, huh?"
Michael said nothing.
�� "Come here," Mistic ordered.
Mistic was standing in the center of the room. Michael hesitated but then began to walk forward until he was standing in front of him. Mistic removed the stains of hair in front of� Michael's face.
�� "God, you are so beautiful. No wonder millions of fans admire you."
Michael didn't make eye contact with him.
�� "Tell me you love me again." Mistic ordered.
Michael refused.
�� "Damn it, tell me!"
Michael shook his head. "You're crazy," he whispered. Right when the words came out of Michael's mouth there was a loud thunderous crackle that echoed through the room. Mistic smiled.
Michael's eyes widened and he gasped. Mistic lifted his gun and said, "Aaahhh, perfect shot."
Michael collapsed into Mistic's arms. Mistic hugged him.
�� "I love you sooo much Mike."
Michael kept gasping for air and his fingers dug into Mistic's back. The pain from the gunshot was like no other...
�� "Take it easy, my love." Mistic told him. He laid Michael on the ground. Blood had smeared all over Mistic's clothes. Michael trembled on the floor as if it was below zero in the room. Blood soaked his shirt. Mistic kneeled down to him.
�� "Do you want to die?" he asked. Michael rolled on his back and grimaced in pain. He gasped again and again. "I said, do you want to die?"
Michael opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He only took in a shaky breath of air. He needed to focus on breathing. He closed his eyes and whispered, "Yes"
Mistic snickered. He kneeled down to him and stroked his head.
�� "You'll just have to wait, my pet."
Michael was clearly loosing a lot of blood. It was making a puddle on the floor.� Mistic took his hand.
�� "Take it easy. The pain isn't going to go away. So relax. Stop trembling. I'm telling you this out of love."
�� "Why..." he gasped. "Why are you doing this?"
�� "To be notorious. I'm killing to most famous guy in the world!!!"
Michael took a deep breath and then tried to relax. He closed his eyes.
�� "Everything will be alright. It'll be over soon."
�� "No," Michael said. "I meant..." He stopped. "I meant why are you being..." He couldn't finish.
�� "Why am I being a crazy?" Mistic looked at the floor to see more blood. �� "Because I have nothing. It's not fair cuz you have everything. And millions love you. You have a purpose!" His voice rose. "I just want to be wanted! That's all I want!" He broke into tears.
�� "Do you think you'll be wanted by doing this?" Michael whispered. Mistic shook his head.
�� "But that's one less person to envy."
Michael sighed and closed his eyes.
�� "Michael?" Mistic said. �� "I'm so tired." Michael said, in barely a whisper. Mistic didn't say anything for a second. He grabbed Michael's hand and in a low voice he said, "Okay."
Mistic clearly had guilt in his eyes. When Michael fell asleep, Mistic, still holding Michael's hand, lay next to Michael and closed his eyes. Mistic awoke by Michael's grip tighteing painfully hard on his hand.� He sat up. Michael was a deathly pale and he was struggling to breathe.
�� "Michael...." Mistic whispered. Michael's almond eyes didn't look frightened. They were blank with pain, staring straight into the eyes of death.
�� "Is this what you wanted?" Michael gasped. He held Mistic's hand tightly.
��� "No, no! No, I didn't!" Mistic cried.
Michael desperately fought for air. It was as if he was being strangled.
�� "Michael stop! No!" Mistic cried. Abruptly, the sounds of air entering Michael's lungs ceased. Gurgling noises from the pit of his throat was heard. Michael was choking on his blood. His hand slowly began to go limp in Mistic's.
�� "Michael please! I didn't mean too!" Mistic didn't want to except the fact that it was too late. "Michael please. Squeeze my hand to tell me you won't die. Please."
But Michael's body fell limp. His eyes stared into nothingness. You could see the blood in his mouth. Mistic slowly stood and looked at the bloody mess on the floor.
�� "I didn't mean too," He said softly. He walked around the corpse staring at the dead. Michael's blank eyes stared back. Mistic kneeled down and closed Michael's eyelids.
�� "AAAHH!!!" he screamed outloud. His voice echoed the room. A cold feeling of isolation surrounded him. It was only Mistic and Michael's remains. Mistic grabbed his gun and aimed it at his chest. Tears fell from his eyes.
�� "No one will miss me," he sobbed.
He pulled the trigger.
One.
Two.
Three times.
Mistic collapsed beside Michael's corpse and died there.
Not even giving anyone a chance to want him.
END