MicroHorror

Jim thought: I wonder if the–

Wait a minute. How am I thinking? I’m supposed to be–

He began to claw feverishly at the earth above him and felt a scream rising in his throat.

There was a gun on the table. A gun I’d bought, which had passed through the hands of three killers. The odd thing is they never killed with the gun. Just displayed it like I’m doing. All three men dangerous in different ways. One could kill you with a smile, one with a laugh and one by whistling. Sounds like the setup to a joke, doesn’t it? The punchline is that when I picked up the gun, my own hand started to tingle. The sensation spread through my body. I felt… different.

Two people were dead by morning. I’ve never been able to whistle.