Everything goes black. Everything goes black. Always the same. Always the fucking same. You panic and I pick up the slack. Always the same! Jesus, killer you need to learn how to man up and finish a job. Fine! I'll fill in the fucking blanks.

I watch the man on the other side of the mirror turn off the flashlight and vanish into darkness, I sigh to myself as the two pigs exit their car and mutter to themselves walking towards the bar. I decide it's better to take control of the situation and wake this fucker up. Like before when killer here passed out in the alley, I focus myself and join the party. I pick myself up from the floor and dust off my trench-coat, cracking my neck and wrapping a tight grip around the heavy flashlight. I open it up and take the batteries out, I look at the dead hipster cunt in front of me and stuff the batteries into his pocket. Don't want my new BFF snooping around anymore.

I keep hold of the flashlight itself, still heavy enough to bash in a skull if need be. I hop over Jack and Sally Skellington and dash into the back before the cops get any closer. I open up the bathroom and enter, closing the door behind me. I dig my hand into the back pocket of my pants and take out the keys I 'borrowed' from the owner of the bar and lock the door. Happy the other guy didn't find them, shit our body is so numb surprised he felt the flashlight hitting his thigh. After locking the door I stand against the wall, if the door does get opened up somehow, I'll be hidden behind it; ready to jump the stupid fuck who decides to break and enter. Cops are low-lives these days.

I hear three loud knocks on the glass and the cops shouting something. Open up, police, got a doughnut? Blah blah blah. Around a minute of silence passes before I hear glass shattering. Like I said, low lives. I place my ear closer to the door and try and get a better listen, I hear footsteps on the wooden floor. Loud. One of them is heavy-set, maybe both from the racket they're making. One of them shouts some obscenity, found the bodies. Shit. Just my luck, of all the cops in New York, I had to get the ones that could do their jobs. I tighten my grip around the flashlight and raise it head level and continue to listen.

They've stopped moving, some radio chatter. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Ambulance is fine, reinforcements will be problematic. The two murmur for a few seconds followed by the distinct sound of the clasp around a holster being unhooked. Music to my ears. The two try and sneak I guess, their on their tippy toes or some shit but still loud enough to hear them come my way. No, just the one. The other is by the bodies, hopefully looking around the bar. The door handle rattles on my side, adrenaline rushes through my body, I focus hard to control myself from shaking. The handle stops shaking, a step back from the cop. Now comes the fun part.

One.

Two.

Three.

The locks snaps and the door swings open, good kick, fucker almost knocked me out hahahaha. I ready myself, hand against the wall, improvised weapon held firm as I stare past the door. He creeps in slowly, the light from his flashlight hitting the filthy cream tiles. Didn't notice the mirror above the sink before, if he looks left he's gonna see me. Fuck it. I'm ready for anything. I see the barrel of a 9mm pistol come into the room first, followed by the fat white hand of our boy in blue. Wait for it Hastur, don't get impatient now. He steps in, I barely see his nose before I jump in front of him and swing the flashlight into his cranium. Nice crack and he goes down, blood pouring from his forehead. The pig falls to the ground with a thud followed by a loud clang from his flashlight hitting the tiled floor. No more need to be sneaky.

I take the gun, making sure it's loaded and not on safety. Good and good. I ready the weapon and peek around the corner, shoving my shoulder against the door frame. I see a cone of light hit the dart board and turn to me, I raise the pistol. Can barely see past the light.

Part of me wants to try my luck and say 'Yeah, I'm fine' but I was never good with voices. Decide it's better to wait for him to get in my line of sight. Head is hurting, killer is fighting back for control. Selfish bastard. Don't ruin this for me! Footsteps, he's coming.

Carl's unconscious you stupid fuck! Get closer! Get fucking closer!

Keep fucking moving! Get the fuck in front of me you dumb piece of shit! WALK! - - - The light gets brighter, keep it together. Keep moving, just turn the corner buddy. Find your friend, officer. All you need to do. It's brighter, I see the silhouette of his shoulder against the streetlights outside. This is it! I stand out of cover and pull the trigger. The music! Hahaha!!! A bang followed by the tune of metal piercing the air, the delicate fabric ripping apart and the bullet tearing into flesh. Blood pours from the wound, splats hitting the floor like raindrops. Again, I must hear the music again!

A second pull of the trigger. And a third. Fourth. Fifth. My own Lacrimosa. Ending with a crescendo, a round crashing the glass window and the body falling to the floor. Then silence as I smile. Proud that the instruments were tuned to perfection and the maestro's fingers flowed like water as he conducted the orchestra. A round of applause echoes through the bar, I take my bow and give the audience a short encore as I aim the pistol to the cop slumped in the bathroom.

A final bullet in between the eyes. The crowd throws roses at my feet. Best not to linger, leave the fans wanting more.