Potshot

"Movement has been detected on your front porch," the notification on my phone says. I have a camera in my doorbell that sends me a message every time someone is on my porch.

Cursing, I pull up the camera feed on my phone. Sure enough, it's that owl again, pecking at my doorbell. It almost looks like the mascot for that one language app. You know... the one that teaches you how to speak Spanish and whatnot. But I haven't used that app in years. Maybe the owl's angry because I've missed so many daily lessons?

Well, I'm going to teach that OWL a lesson. My face contorts into a sneer as I pull my pistol out of my pants and click off the safety. I march over to the door and stick my pistol over the doorbell.

"Eat lead and DIE, motherfucker!" I shout, pulling the trigger.

There's a loud bang. I hear wings flapping. A second later, the owl appears outside my window.

Only there's not a scratch on it.

I'm flabbergasted. Could I have missed it? How? I got it at point blank range.

Maybe it's not even there in the first place?

I hear a pained yell outside. I look out the window to see a man lying on the ground a few feet away from my front porch. He's clutching his arm and rocking back and forth. I guess I accidentally shot him in the arm. There's another man stooped over him, trying to comfort him.

The man on the ground suddenly gets to his feet. He and his friend both march over to my door and rip it off its hinges.

"You trying to KILL us, motherfucker?!" the man I shot demands. He's clutching his bleeding arm with one hand.

I hold up my hands. "No! No, gentlemen! It wasn't me! I was just trying to shoot-"

"Shoot WHAT?!" the other man demands.

I wince. "The... the owl?"

I point out the window.

Only the owl is gone.

The men don't even bother looking. "A likely story!" the wounded man snarls. "You're OURS now, motherfucker!"

I aim my gun at them. They knock it out of my hand and punch me in the face, bowling me to the ground. Then they both bend over me and start beating me senseless with their bare hands.

"What did you do?!" the wounded man demands, breaking my jaw with his powerful fist. "What did you do, huh?! What did you do?! You gonna talk now, or what?! What did you do?! Yeah! Yeah!"

The two of them are shattering every bone in my body one by one. I release a gargled cry from my throat. My head lolls, and my gaze wanders out the window.

The owl is back. And it's giving me a shit-eating grin.

The men finally get bored. One raises his foot over my head and brings it down. I feel my skull fracture into pieces. There's a sudden, hollow silence.

---

Credited to MalumLibrum958

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