I shot him next and then each of his companions. The image was like a deadly film loop that kept repeating over and over and over.My lives were filled...with violent confrontations. There seemed to be a never ending line of killers trying to hurt those that I cared about, only to be replaced by more predators, who showed up to ruin those few moments of peace and sanity in whatever life I lived at the time.The slideshow of death wouldn’t let up.There seemed no way to erase the images of the people. I was tired, but I lay in bed for hours thinking about Chastity, listening to the voices in my head arguing over calling her. Part of me wanted her back, the other was afraid to expose my wounded heart to another break. My thoughts swung like a pendulum from one side of the argument to the other. An old question came back. “Where did the love go?” It had troubled me constantly for months after Chastity left. Gallons of alcohol and a parade of willing women hadn’t rid me of it. Lying in bed. The entry into Luna’s cunt was far rougher this time and she gasped with her mouth hung open again and bulging eyes. Cricket grabbed her lower jaw with one hand, the back of her neck with the other and proceeded to fuck as if she were trying to bore another hole through her vessel. The clapping of buttocks was so meaty and sharp, Luna didn’t recall ever hearing them hit such a high decibel range.“Fucking FUCK ME, CRICKET! Oh my GOD!” Drool escaped and her eyes rolled until she croaked audibly. He was not quite 17, but he had already killed a man; in fact, he had killed several, but he didn't count those because he was simply shooting back at Indians or bandits. It bothered him sometimes, but he was puzzled by why it bothered him.He was raised in a church where the ten commandments were taken seriously, and "Thou shalt not kill!" was high on the list. Yet, he was not bothered by having killed a man, he was bothered by not being bothered by having killed a man. He wondered why he just.
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