6 and 1 half minutes | By: Bryan King | | Category: Short Story - Dark Bookmark and Share

6 and 1 half minutes

There was a laugh, and a pop. then Trey lay on the floor.
"Bullseyeee," it was Lanson, the man that always carried 9 weapons.
He walked up to the dead man on the floor(trying to avoid the growing blood puddle), and pulled the brown handled knife from trey's forehead. This was typical Lanson; walk in with a man in hand-cuffs, tie him
to the banister, paint a target on his head, and see how many tries it took for the tip of his knife, or his bullet(it depended on his mood) to hit the bullseye, or 'bullseyeee', as he would say.

The inkeeper motioned for her giant son Kasiy, to take Trey's body outside to the back alley for the dogs to eat. The boy did so reluctantly; he hated getting blood and brain on his shirt.
Meanwhile, the inkeeper went to have a talk with the Sherriff.
"Now Lanson," She started taking no precaution of her tone to the man who had killed 21 people this week, "I know your situation. I know you like killing people...but do you have to do it in front of the whole inn, you
jelly-brained fool? Huh... do you,...I mean it's bad for buissness. People come here to eat, and they don't enjoy the sherriff getting blood in their soup! Now do you hear what I'm saying?"
Lanson smirked "Well Ms.Lou, i don't know about that, I don't think anybody minds getting some blood in their soup. And plus, the children enjoy the show. You're going to have to learn to lossen up a bit Ms.lo-" But she cut
him off quickly. "No Lanson, I won't learn to loosen up, now, this is my inn, and if you want to be in my inn you'll have to follow my rules." Kaisy had returned from the alley, and stepped up behind his mother. Lanson stood
seeing the giant boy approach. "Ms.lou, you better tell your boy here to sit down, cause if he gets killed won't be nobody to carry the bodies outside." he started to slowly slide his hands inside his cloak. When Ms.lou saw this she
quickly abbided the threat.
"Uh...he's right sweety go take a seat over there while me and the sherriff have a quick chat. In fact bring Lanson some Ale." The boy moved very slowly, no wanting to leave his mother beside this Killer. Eventually, he mande
it back to the bar, and poured Lanson some ale. He hated the man. Hated him for the way he treated his mother, hated him for being the Sherriff, hated him for the way he killed relentlessly...and a billion others reasons. And there
used to be nothing he could do about it. Used to be. As lanson shot a man in the leg for interupting him, Kasiy went over the plan in his head again. After about 10 seconds he chuckled to hinself and pulled the small flask he
bought from a trader from his pocket. He opened the flask and poured the contents into the steaming ale. He walked with a spring in his step back to the table. Lanson was sitting again and shot him a hard look. "Watch your back boy.
I don't want to have to do you like Trey here, since your mother is so nice," Ms. Lou put up a fake smile to try and lower the tension. "But I do have my limits," he finished.
Kasiy wanted to laugh, but he knew it would get him killed. Once Lanson drunk this it would be over in about 6 and 1 half minutes (according to the trader), and then he could laugh all he wanted to. He almost dropped the cup from excitment,
and terror that once he handed the cup over, it was done, there would be no turning back. Either Lanson would drink the ale, and see the results, or he would somehow find out about the contents in the cup, and kill Kasiy.
Lanson took the cup(still eying kasiy strongly) and drank in without hesitation.

That was 4 days ago. 4 days since the murder. The inkeeper stood at the foot of the grave, thinking about the events one last time before he was buried.

After Lanson drank the ale, Kasiy went and sat in the corner. He counted in his head. At 380 seconds, he went up to Lanson and said: "Hah, you idiot, I fed you posion in that ale. In 5 seconds you are going to drop dead. Hah!"
Lanson's eye's went wide. That was the last thing he was expecting to hear.
After 7 long seconds, though, Lanson pulled a gun from his belt. The smirk had returned to his face. "It looks like you are the idiot." And he puled the trigger.

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