Alive

I was not a killer. I'd always considered myself a good person. I had a high set of moral standards, and I had never thought that there would be a day when I would point a gun at someone, thinking that he deserved to die. Still, I couldn't take away his life... But I wanted him to suffer. I aimed at his right shoulder. Adrenaline sharpened my senses, making me more focused than I had ever been in my whole life. The oddly funny fact was that I had problems with hitting the target board, but I knew exactly where the bullet would hit the second I pulled that trigger.

Caishen growled in pain, the knife held in his right hand falling to the ground. "You bitch!" he yelled, stomping my way.

I shot again, this time aiming at his thigh. The second bullet made him collapse. I watched him fall to the ground, his hands reaching to press the wound on his leg. I smirked coldly. I must have hit an artery since he was bleeding out fast. None of those shots were lethal, but they were enough. He lost.