Bob reached out and drew the knife from nothingness. He slit the heels of Reagan and drove the blade into his chest. Two shots rang out into the air. The rest of the gunmen raised their arms to take Bob down. Bob rolled around and dashed towards the next masked man. He grabbed Bush and slit his throat, letting him take a few bullets while moving on to the next target. Lincoln and Nixon were next, both killed each other as Bob got between them both. He took a handgun and returned a few shots as he ran at some of the masked men by the truck, dropping them. Bob went after Obama by the counter. He dived over the counter, taking the bag that was slung around Obama. He snapped the man’s neck like a twig.
The feeling, the rush, the excitement… it was nothing like he ever experienced. He thirsted for blood but not for the blood of innocence like he once did. He looked around; there weren’t many left now. A few climbed into the armored truck and attempted to leave. Police had descended onto the scene and fired wildly at the vehicle. They were of no concern to Bob now. All that was left was Trump. He took a woman and child hostage, a knife to the child’s throat, and a gun pointed at the mother’s head.
“Don’t even fuckin’ think about it, bud. You don’t even know what you’ve gotten yourself into!” said the man in the Trump mask.
Bob slowly walked towards the man. “I think you have it all wrong. You don’t even know what you’ve gotten yourself into. You know you’re about to die, one way or another. Yet, you would jeopardize this woman and child to save yourself? Pathetic.”
“Don’t come any closer! I’ll fuckin’ do it!” shouted the man.
Bob shrugged, “Two lives to save around 30 or 40…those are odds I can live with.”
Trump was now backed into a corner. Police shouted on the loudspeaker to have the man stand down and for the advancement of police. “You’re completely surrounded. Don’t be stupid.”
“Hear that?” asked Bob.
“Who the fuck are you?” asked the scared Trump.
“Just another guy who is tired of being wronged by assholes like you,” replied Bob.
The man knew he was done either way. He motioned to slit the boy’s throat and pull the trigger. Time slowed down. Bob noticed this and took advantage of it. He moved the knife up to the man’s throat and raised the gun to his head. He pulled the boy and woman away, dislocating their shoulders in the process by the jerking force. Bob stood with a grin on his smile as time played back to its normal speed.
A bang and a sudden gasp for air. The man laid crumpled on the floor in a bloody mess. The mother and child cried out in pain and shock.
Police advanced into the bank. Having pulled some men out of the armored truck alive. Shame, Bob thought.
The knife disappeared, and Bob fell to the floor. Some blood poured out from underneath him onto the cold marble tile. Life didn’t leave him, he fought, this time, trying to keep hold of what mattered the most to him.
“Show me your hands!” an officer shouted as he approached Bob.
Bob slowly raised his hands above his head, legs sprawled. The darkness was coming.
“He saved us!” some people cried out.
Bob last heard the police calling out for medical personnel to come over before passing out. The last thought he was, Being the hero for once was nice.
For Episode 8 – The Last Action Hero [Part 1] Click here.
For Episode 8 – The Last Action Hero [Part 2] Click here.