One Last Dance Across the Sky
by R.T. Allenson
Samson had killed a total of seven people already, including an old couple who couldn’t get away from him when he entered the restaurant. He was already drinking their blood when the police found him.
He held the knife firmly in his hand, toying with it as he remembered doing so a long time ago. An officer noticed this and raised his gun towards him. “I AM THE SUN!” Samson shouted.
They had him cornered, stuck between a wall and a squadron of police – guns poised and aimed at him. Samson had been running for some time now and if he hadn’t ducked inside the restaurant, he would have gotten away. But he was hungry, very hungry and the irony of him looking for sustenance in a restaurant was not lost to him; he wasn’t after something he could just order from a menu after all.
“Put down the knife!” The officer bellowed at him. He was aiming directly at his head now, subtly moving closer as the rest behind him followed.
“I ain’t telling you one more time, put down the f–“
In a flash Samson had pounced on the officer, pushing him down on the floor and on to his stomach. He knelt on the officer’s leg, pinning him to the ground as he pulled the man’s head upwards. He remembers doing this to a bull once so very long ago, and to him this was no different.
“This is easier.” Samson whispered into the officer’s ear as he plunged the knife deep into his neck. He then stared out the window as a hail of bullets stormed him and then, letting out a tired breath, he fell to the floor dead. The officers carried his body outside where they saw, to their surprise, the sun doing one last dance across the sky.
And there was nothing in the sky the following day, only darkness and a stillness that seemed to last forever.