8. Almost An Eighth Murder
I turn around and put my back against the wall. Maybe he didn't see me. I turned my head and watched him as he came in front of me.
"What did you see?" He asked firmly.
"Why did you kill that poor guy?" I asked sobbing.
"Tell me what all you saw...and I might not kill you." He said pointing the gun at my chest, "It depends." He mumbled.
"Urm...I saw you and him fighting...then I saw you go to your car and then you shot him." I said.
"Do you recognize me?" He asked. I wasn't going to admit he sounds just like him. I mean, he couldn't be him. He is not a killer, but this guy obviously is.
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"Do you think you know who I am?" He asked.
"You're the serial killer of course." I said, frightened.
"Yes but do you know who I am?" He asked.
"Well, you do sound like L-"
"You're done." He interrupted and I heard a click from the gun.
He put his finger on the trigger and I closed my eyes tightly. I waited, but nothing happened. I hear him groan. I open my eyes to see him pulling the trigger but nothing happening.
"No bullets." I mumbled happily.
"Shut it!" He yelled, "I'll just have to kill you with my bare hands." He said. I gasped as he squeezed my neck with his hands.
"No." I mumbled breathlessly.