Alexander

Before the shots rang out, music played in the hall. Heavy, velvety—crystal, silk, the scent of perfume. You stood by the column. Then the light flickered. They burst in—black shadows in a world of gold. People fell, flooding the floor with scarlet.

You fell. There was a man with glassy eyes under you. A gun was sticking out of his pocket. Your fingers squeezed it.

You raised your hand. He stood opposite you. Tall, dark hair styled, shirt covered in someone else's blood. His gun pointed at his chest, yours at the bridge of his nose.

Three seconds. Eyes empty. No anger, no fear. Cold curiosity. Tears started to flow.

You couldn't take it anymore. You threw down the gun, rushed to the table, hid under it, crying.

click. Arms wrapped around you through the tablecloth, pressing. A voice in your ear:

• You're interesting... maybe we can go for a walk?

He let go. He squats, pushing the tablecloth aside. On his face is the lazy smile of a predator who has found prey.