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Pitfalls Of The Famous – Short Story

He places the revolver on the arm of the chair and collapses back into it, staring across the room into her cold dead eyes.
“So this is how it ends, this is how the bloody bank settles its final debt is it!” He says as he lets out a violent cough that forces him to hunch over in agony, clutching at him stomach.
“Fucking bitch!” He screams, spit sprays from his mouth tinged lightly with red.
“We had a good thing, a solid deal, numbers on the board. I was going to be someone. I was going to be a name. Why the fuck did you have to come here and spoil it all? What the hell was it going to do for you?” He says letting out another violent cough, this time deep dark red spit flies from his mouth and he screams in agony, clutching at his stomach once again.
She sits unmoving, as the dark pool of red that sits beneath her lifeless corpse slowly congeals.
“You know you’ve fucking killed me, don’t you? You know that! You fucking know it, RIGHT?” He screams.
“Don’t just fucking sit there, answer me! You owe me that at least!” He says as he forces himself to his feet, as he does he accidentally knocks the revolver from the arm of the chair to the ground. He sways uneasily from side to side for more than a few minutes before finally taking an awkward step forward, followed quickly by another. Suddenly he feels his legs give way and he crashes to the ground in a heap, landing in the sticky darkness that once pumped through her veins.
He lies there for moments upon moments, trying to grasp at a breath only to find it refusing to venture down his throat. He panics as he tries in vain to suck breath after breath down into his burning lungs, but nothing comes, except for the darkness, as it tears at his arms and legs dragging him down into it, and the last thing he hears before his own screams is her laughter.
The doors to the room crash open and three uniformed police officers rush into.
“Holy shit, they weren’t lying were they, it’s definitely Jimmy Calhorne,” one of them says as he looks down at Jimmy’s pale corpse.
“The rest of the apartment is clear, Calhorne’s the only one here,” another officer yells from elsewhere in the apartment.
The three officers come back to the center of the room and stand above Calhorne’s lifeless body, while his dead eyes stare up at them.
“You think it was self-inflicted?”
“Well the doors latch was locked from the inside, all the windows are locked and besides that, the room’s been under constant surveillance for the last seventy-two hours, so if anyone entered we’d know about it. I guess in the end he knew everything was catching up with him and the only way out of this mess was at the end of his own bullet.”

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