Save One For Yourself
I can hear them outside the room, scratching, moaning, and gnawing at the door like mindless animals, but then that’s exactly what they are, aren’t they? Only the sound of their moaning and their incessant attempts to break down the door keep me company as my final candle burns low and begins to sputter out. I check the heavy revolver in my hand and frown at the single remaining bullet in the cylinder, wishing I hadn’t needed the other bullet to put down my friend when he began to come back.
“Save one for yourself,” he’d told me as he handed me the revolver just before he died.
As the first ghoul’s hand bursts through the splintered wood, I press the barrel against the bottom of my chin and whisper a prayer as I slowly squeeze the trigger, but my heart stops as the hammer clicks loudly against the dud bullet.
Oh, shit.
