(no subject)

[vicarz]

Oh. You're probably wondering why I just shot myself.

See, up to this point you're not sure if I have bad aim and settled to see you writhing like this. That would show my lack of planning or skill, opening the door to rescue and life. Perhaps you think while I obviously enjoy seeing you suffer - if there is something you can say that will let you survive, you have a reason to hang on. I've heard what I wanted to already, wouldn't have mattered if I didn't, but now it's time for my favorite part. See, I know I'm going to die. I could choose to die quickly, taking my own life directly or through suicide by cop. I could even have chosen to rot away in jail. However, now you see my death, like yours, is immanent. I want yours to last as long as possible, and be as painful as possible. My problem is that as long as I sit here you still beg and holler with some shred of hope that I might change my mind, that I don't really mean to let you die, or that perhaps a rescue is on the way.

Don't count on that rescue. This jurisdiction lacks sharpshooters, the wall behind me is concrete, and the visibility here is excellent. Even assuming someone gets the call by now, response time is at least 10 minutes, 20 to assess the situation, and the fastest someone could be called in from another jurisdiction is another 20 minutes. Feel like you have that long to wait? Even if I did get the unlikely flash grenade stun or sharp-shooter's bullet, you'll still die from this wound.

If I hadn't shot myself, you would try to rationalize your way into the possibility of living, desperately seeking some argument that would sway my course of action. You might also keep trying to enrage me, realizing that you're doing to die, but trying to anger me enough to take your life more quickly. You can keep trying that tact, but as you see you can't top the pain I can feel now. I've heard words for years - this pain trumps all of them.

See, by shooting myself here in the gut, you know that I am feeling the same pain as you are. I know that the acid from my intestines is spilling out and burning through the tender flesh. I feel that horrible aching pain myself, knowing that while yours is worse for the time passed that mine will grow to catch up. By doing this I've removed your last bit of hope - you know I'm determined to the point nothing will deter me, not logic, not emotion, not any hope of living myself. I know exactly what you feel, am feeling it with you (not as bad of course), and you know that like you, I am going to die. Because I am going to die, at my own hand, you know that you have no hope. There is no possible reason for me to let you live. I've erased them all, irretrievably.

Now all we have to do is wait. All we can do...is wait.