Nina held her single 9mm up beside her as she pressed her back to the wall at the end of the corridor. It had been silent only a short while, but still her heart pounded against her breastplate. She had not experienced this before. In all her years she had never taken anyone on she had the slightest concern for. However, Ricky was different, he was a past lover - and a good one - and with the knowledge of just how prolific a killer he used to be, she realised this was the test all her experiences to now had been leading toward.


Malcolm came to the foot of a flight of stairs, leading to the third floor. He was out of breath and in considerable pain. He held one hand clutched to his thigh, steadying himself against the handrail for a moment.

"Why are you doing this, you idiot?" he asked himself, then with an intake of breath, he began to ascend.

Suddenly he heard gunfire and froze. He looked to the top of the stairs apprehensively.


Nina backed off down the corridor, and fired three times. Ricky at the other end, moved aside as three bullet holes appeared in the wall. He grinned, blood soaking his jacket around his shoulder, and he raised the UZI, and then unleashed another rapid burst. Nina rushed to a door and kicked it open, entering a bedroom, immediately heading for the adjoining door. She opened it and entered another room, then paused. She looked around, then saw some make up and a wig on a dresser. Approaching quickly, she grabbed a nail file, taking it between her teeth, then rushed to the next door, opened it inwards, then poked her head out.
Gunfire tore apart the doorframe and she pulled herself back in, then holstered her gun in her belt, taking the nail file from her mouth. Suddenly she dived into the corridor, and flung the nail file towards Ricky, who looked around, startled, then the nail file imbedded in his thigh. He cried out in pain, dropping the UZI, and as Nina got up and returned two more shots with her 9mm, he hit the wall hard; the file breaking off on impact, leaving part of it still in his leg. He gasped; gritting his teeth, then took the shotgun from over his shoulder, aiming it straight at her.
Nina looked, and then moved away as a shell blew a hole in the wall beside her. Then she turned and fled, just as Ricky re-loaded limping after her.

Malcolm reached the top of the stairs, panting again, then proceeded on, looking all around for any sign of Nina. He had begun to perspire, showing he was in need of help.

Nina reached a water-cooler beside a desk. She looked back down the corridor for her opponent, then took a second to check her gun. She was rapidly running out of ammo. She began to regret discarding that other 9mm. Then suddenly the plastic water bottle on the cooler exploded, and she was sent crashing and sliding across the floor, Ricky having taken a detour, come out of a door ahead of her and fired.

It was as if he knew the place better than she did.

Quickly she scrambled to her feet and ran back the way she had came, trying doors along the way, until one handle was blasted off as she went to grab it. She looked back. Ricky reloaded fresh shells into the shotgun, and it gave her enough time to dart around the corner, rushing back into the open bedroom door. She stopped at the dresser again, but of course, there was not going to be anything else she could use. She stood still, then turned and aimed her 9mm, knowing that she may only have a few bullets remaining.

Silence lingered in the air. She was noticeably trembling.

In the corridor, Malcolm proceeded, half-sliding against the wall, and as he turned the corner, he saw Ricky enter a room. Stopping dead in his tracks, Malcolm struggled to find an answer to the question in his head. If he was trying to help Nina, how was he expected to take on this hit man?

"Raven...figured it out yet?" came Ricky's casually threatening tone.

Nina then looked to the door at the other end of the room, and cursed herself for forgetting her own detour. She should have realised Ricky would use it against her.
Then he appeared in the doorway, shot gun ready, gripped by both hands.
She lowered her gun slowly; a finger still poised on the trigger, showing that she still wasn't ready to give up the game. She exhaled as if in rhythm with her own body.

"So this is how it ends, is it Ricky?" she asked, stalling.

Ricky smiled, "How other way can it be. We live by the gun, we die by the gun." he replied.

Nina closed her eyes.

Malcolm came to the door of the other room. He paused, holding his breath as he saw Ricky from behind, a few feet inside. What he wouldn't give to take a gun to that bastard's head and make it all stop. But he had quit believing in miracles a long time ago.

Then suddenly, Ricky fired, and Nina hit the floor, crashing against the wall beside where the door stood open. Fragments of glass from a shattered dressing table mirror showered her, then one large piece of glass imbedded in the floor, grazing her neck in the process. Nina's eyes opened wide and she saw her face reflect back to her. Letting out a gasp of relief, she sat up, and then a shadow covered her. Ricky had entered the room, and the smoking shotgun was lowered to his side.

"You're fast." he said, then stared at her inquisitively, "But perhaps, not fast enough."

Nina frowned, and then felt a cold wetness on her neck. Applying the tips of her fingers, she then raised her hand for inspection, only to discover it was soaked crimson. She went to cry out, but gurgled as blood filled her mouth and began to pump from a cut that had appeared across neck just under the bar-code tattoo. Panicking, she moved from the wall, sitting up on her knees with a hand grabbing at her throat, but nothing could stop the spray, as she found herself bleeding to death right before her killer's eyes.

Then Malcolm entered the room, and he saw Nina and cried out.

"No!!!" he yelled, grabbing Ricky's attention, who then turned and aimed the shotgun.

"Hold it, friend - you're coming with me!"

Malcolm forced himself to look away from Nina as she collapsed, her body convulsing as blood splashed the wall and quickly formed a thick pool around her body. He backed off as he stared at Ricky, shaking his head in denial.

"No way you mother fucker, no way!" he cursed, then turned and fled.

Ricky snarled, then rushed after him, colliding with the doorway, and stumbled into the other room. He saw Malcolm exit, and hurried after him, now also growing weaker as more blood soaked his upper arm, and he had to discard the shotgun just to grab it in sheer agony.

"Come here you fuckin' cunt! Come here!!" he yelled.

A desperate Malcolm, unable to comprehend what he had just witnessed, moved quicker than he ever thought possible, turning the corridor and rushing onwards. Visions of Nina's death plagued his mind, and as he moved faster and faster, Ricky was gaining and gaining in a slightly better state to walk, but bleeding badly from the gunshot wound to the shoulder and shard of metal in his thigh.

"You have nowhere to run, fucker!" Ricky was heard saying, "You're just prolonging the inevitable!"

Then suddenly, Malcolm reached a door, turned the handle and went to thrust himself inside, only to find that the room within had no floor, and as he held onto the handle, he went swinging in the air. Ricky reached him, and then lurched forward. Then as the door opened wider, separating Malcolm further, Ricky over-balanced, then stepped off to plummet three floors down. The door creaked on its hinges, and a final thud sealed Ricky's fate.

Malcolm swung gently on the door, then flung his feet forward to reach the corridor, before pulling himself back to safety. He waited until he could breathe again, before glancing back down to the floors below. Ricky's body had landed in a bathtub, his legs twisted and his back probably broken. His wide staring eyes confirmed his death.