Two Feet From Paradise

This story is an entry for a 15-day contest. You get a daily prompt and have to write for 15 minutes.


It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. He had felt like one bad ass motherfucker running through that crowded mall firing at random shoppers.

Jesse looked over his shoulder at the window. He hated that fucking window. He hated what it offered to those that weren’t like him; souls that had somehow been deemed worthy by some unseen myth he used to believe in way back in the day.

Jesse’s life had been filled with bad choices. He never felt like he was given a fair shake. It was always someone else’s fault. He just seemed to get one bad break after another. A discount baggy labeled “miscellaneous” purchased from the local dealer had set off his last binge of bad luck and cascading casualties. Anonymous pills with a tequila chaser could make a lot of things seem like a good idea.

Now he squatted naked on the floor shivering. His fingers and toes were blue from the cold. His teeth chattered nonstop; his bare arms hugged his chest. What he wouldn’t give for a nice big coat.

People had screamed and ran in all directions. It was a beautiful thing. There was blood everywhere.

Jesse lifted his head for the millionth time and looked around at his home for the next thousand years. The walls, floor and ceiling were so white; he couldn’t make out the corners of the room. He sat with his back to the window and pulled his knees up close. Fog formed with each breath. The shivering went on and on.

Jesse’s rampage had come to an abrupt end as he rounded a corner where a security guard stood waiting. He remembered the sudden feeling of surprise as the bullet caught him between the eyes. The next thing he knew, he was here. An eight foot chain mated him to the floor.

Jesse stole a peek over his shoulder. Ten feet away was paradise.

There is no place colder than hell.