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A minute to pray, a second to die.

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There’s a silent scream that couldn’t be tamed. Bouncing off the walls of drifting mind and echoing in dying conscious. Seeing a lullaby to the last shred of humanity remaining in one’s soul.


There’s a scream, and it’s called murder. The muted sound only grows with the action, deafening the morals and ethics until there’s nothing left but a shell of a man with a drive of a rabid dog.

A state of absolute freedom that reduces even a God….


                  ….. to a mere savage.


Sweaty palm banging against the window, car rocking violently. You’d think there’s some Titanic level of funky action’s going inside there.


Muffled sound inside the black sedan, only drowned by orchestral performance of rain. You’d think the sky’s been mourning his fate already. No sound of Angel’s or signs of any help.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned…” But could he hear that accent rich voice with all that blood flooding in his ears and arteries? Cheeks and throat swollen. One hand desperately tried to break through the wire that tightened around the throat while other smashed against the window like foamy waves at shore. 


“For I have stayed from righteous flock of my merciful lord, neglecting his blessings and took down an idol made in his image, which is life.” A powerful yank from the rear, and the brawny bloke’s slamming his victim’s back again the driver seat. 

“I beg you the same mercy…” The gargling noises broke over his words. “The same mercy and forgiveness upon my enemies that you’ve graced the saints with, for I’ll have none.” One last choked gasps, and the hand stopped patting at the window. Body twitching once….Twice… before it finally collapsed into an external rest. The wire unwrapping from his reddened throat.


The door opened as heavy rain splashed inside the car. Blond bloke emerged from the back, into the pouring rain. Just one second, and he’s already drenched. Stepping away from the scene in the dead of a rainy night.


The flesh of dead would bulge and bloat at face….Chest…An eye falling out… Hands expanding and shrinking before the corpse explodes into a screeching confetti of dead snakes scattered inside the car. Once disguise as a humble preacher man…


“For a minute, I thought you actually pitied the fucker and prayer was coming from the heart…” A gentleman in a suit, clean, neat and dry under his black umbrella. Stand nearly a mile away from the scene. Gloved hand offering an envelope to the soaked brute marching his way. The brute would rudely snag the envelope from his employer and shove it inside his trench coat. “Tell me Kingbreaker, if that’s even your real name…Is it the money or sick sadistic pleasure that keeps you motivated?”

      But there was no answer.



The brute kept going forth.


“Ah, I guess it’s a professional secret mister Kingbreaker,” the gentleman would glance over his shoulder with a smile.

“Ya kno’ what’s funny, mate? When The Snake seduced Eve ta eat th’ apple he thought he was free from consequences himself, but Yahweh punished the nasty thing ta crawl on his belly for rest of his life in submission. No one’s free from their sins. So I tell ya what lad.” The Kingbreaker would turn around good few feet away from the other man. “Ye got a minute ta pray, for it’s only thing that’s keepin’ ye alive so far.” His snagging a pistol from the holster. Hollowed barrel staring down at the widened eyes. “A minute to pray, a secon to die…”


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