A man sneaks around cars – it's a fancy parking lot with fancy vehicles. Sweat pours from his brow as he frantically searches the area for threats. He sees none. He quickens his pace. Quicker and quicker he makes his way through the lot, then begins to sprint to the nearest door.
The lights were flickering causing him to see blinking shadows as movement. He stops to point his weapon towards the darkness. “Just shadows.” More running. Rain starts to fall. First a few trickles, then enough to expect an ark full of animals and a family of eight. He worries the sound of his steps will give him away, but reaches the door and swings it open.
A shot rings out. The man crumples to the ground, laying on the cement clutching his stomach. He groans and pulls his gun. Another shot and his weapon flings from his hand.
“You shot at me, Mr. Baker,” says his assailant.
“I was just doing as I was ordered,” he gasps and groans.
“Do you know what it's like, Mr. Barker?”
“Baker.”
“What?” He asks.
“Baker. You just said it,” even through pain, he could be irritated.
“For fu…” he throws up his hands, “Okay, Mr. BAKER. Do you know what it's like?”
“Being shot at? Yes, you just shot m-”
“No!” He snaps, “being made fun of for having a large Adam's apple.”
“But, I…didn't…”
“Oh, I know. You stole from my employer,” he taps him on the head with his gun, “but there was a guy in high school. Such an asshole. It was awful. I was destined to be a killer. Do you know what that's like?”
“I guess…I was a band ge-”
“BAND!?!? Those bastards were the worst. Did unspeakable things to me.”
“Hey, man. If you let me live, I'll listen to all your pr-”
“Once…in band…a kid blew his trumpet spit on my shoulder,” he hangs his head, “it was terrible. You have no idea the pain that made me who I am.”
“Dude, honestly, that doesn't sound so ba-”
“What the hell do you know about pain!?!?”
The victim rolled his eyes. “You fucking sho-”
“They called me ‘spit shoulder!’ ‘Spit shoulder big apple!!’ Do you know how that feels!?!?”
“Okay, honestly man, just kill-”
“And this girl – my first crush – she told my parents when I showed her porn.”
“Well, that one sucks. What teenage boy doesn't look at po-”
“I was seven,” he wiped a tear away, “my whole second grade class called me ‘Porn King’ and didn't ever stop…for a few days.”
“That's…too ba-”
“You ever black out while eating and wake up with everyone dead?”
“WHAT THE F-”
“Well, I had a dream that happened…” he chuckles slightly, “I've had a disturbing life.”
“Man, gimme the gun. I'll kill mys-”
“Spit shoulder…” he whispers through gritted teeth, shaking his head, “big apple...”
“Dude, seriously, I'm ready to d-”
A gunshot rings out. “Hmm..,” says the killer to himself, “they always say that.”
