The Kill
I felt the metal point penetrate his flesh. It was a powerful feeling, flicking the sharp metal into his first, then second layer of skin; I waited a long time to catch this one, but I had him now. I held on to the grip, knowing the titanium in the metal was giving me maximum strength-to-weight-ratio. My adrenaline was pumping as I felt him jerk against the blade. He kept trying to slip out of my grasp so I had to force his head into the bend of my arm to secure my hold, adjusting my stance yet again.
Suddenly, he arched his back and began to flail with resistance, his whole body straining, as if he was using every ounce of strength he had left. I had to put more of my weight into the struggle, anticipating and compensating for his every move.
He was giving in. I could feel it.
I looked down at him when it was over. His eyes were looking past me into a landscape only he could see, his body no longer twitching, his chest no longer heaving or fighting. I rested the toe of my shoe on him while I worked the sharp metal free. Now that he was still and lifeless, I had a chance to stand back from him, taking in the full view. He was finally at rest on the wooden planks.
It’s done.
