“Pull the Trigger”
Bleeding profusely from the carelessly aimed gunshot, the creature stumbles across the forest floor, leaving a red clumpy trail of its innards behind.
Philip Hobbs, annoyed at himself for bungling the wide open shot, follows closely behind and finds the poor creature wheezing within the shrubbery, the leaves shaking from the bleeding beast’s agonizing trembles.
Philip raises his gun to finish the job, but as he looks into the surprisingly soulful eye of the vicious beast… he pauses. Even though he knows he needs to do this, and he can see what pain the poor creature is in… he can’t stand to pull the trigger. He just can’t.
Cursing himself for his selfish weakness, he stands there staring at the wounded beast as the blood seeping from its open wound soaks into the forest floor and mixes in with the dirt and twigs, forming canals that slowly trickle towards Philip’s new boots.
For 3 hours he watches the beast writhe in agony, finally dying a painful and slow death, and for 3 hours he knows that he needs to put it out of its misery.
But still, he doesn’t.
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