Daily Flash Fiction Challenge

Trask paces the room agitatedly, fingers flirting absently about the handle of his revolver.

DeTulio’s eyes follow him, blank and exhausted. He doesn’t even tug at the ropes that restrain hands and feet to the chair.

“That’s everything I know,” he says through loosened teeth and swollen lips. “Everything.”

Trask spins around angrily, his face painted red at cheek and ear, and ice-white everywhere else. “More lies, Benny,” he spits. He can hardly bear the sight of his former friend.

“Virg—“

“Don’t. Call me that,” Trask seethes, head throbbing, teeth clenched. He draws the revolver stalking forward as if to continue pistol-whipping DeTulio, who flinches. But Trask merely aims the gun between DeTulio’s blackened eyes, cocking the trigger and letting cool metal kiss hot skin.

“Where is she?” he demands quietly. DeTulio flinches again, but doesn’t break eye contact. “Where’s Catherine?”

“I swear before God—“

“Leave God outta this.”

“—and on our friendship—“ Trask barks out a laugh. “—I don’t know where they’re keeping your wife!” DeTulio’s pleading eyes still don’t look away. His body is taut like piano-wire.

“Then I don’t need you anymore, do I, Benny?” Trask asks gently, and DeTulio’s eyes widen in their bruised hollows.

“No—Virgil, don’t—“ he stammers, frantically straining away from the now warmed metal of the gun. “Please, don’t—“

“’Bye, Benny.”

The gunshot, muffled though it is by flesh, is still loud in the empty space. Trask doesn’t so much as blink as bits of flesh, bone, and grey matter go splat against the wall.

He wipes the revolver clean on DeTulio’s shirt—Protect and Serve, his badge proclaims—reholsters it shakily.

It’s nearly an hour before he’s sanguine enough to think, let alone act.

Finally, adjusting his own badge, Officer Trask exits the room, going back to square one without a backward glance.

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"We admit that we are like apes, but we seldom realise that we are apes."--Richard Dawkins