St. Frank

"The bullet popped"

Loud mumbles filled the bistro, loud masculine voices slurred.
"I owe you nothing, never have." A deep voice repeated.
"Fuck me, last I remember you stole all of my..." The voice stopped suddenly, the door was smashed shut. Drowning out the voice. Now I couldn't make out voices, not if they weren't howling. The door muffled their voices. Every so often a bang would occur like a hand hitting off the table or the wall was being kicked, nothing serious.

The voices were getting louder and clearer, the tables were being hit more. I felt tense sitting in the bathroom stall alone. Only the repetitive sound of the clock ticking, over and over. I could feel some sweat pouring from my skin. It was no bigger than a small cupboard, there was a sink and the toilet, it was decorated with floral wall paper and pretty vases with flowers or bowls with glass pebbles. I just kept making sure no one was near. I kept looking out of the small circular window.

The shouting got got louder and more ear piercing every minute. A loud shattering of glass suddenly occurred and I can't help but shiver and shake with fear. My fingers starting to tingle. The bangs of glass and things falling on the floor and the panic of this persons voice.

Everything went quiet. Only the loud thumping of my heart can he heard and the loud cries of pain filling the next room. I waited patiently. The breathing was slow and stretched out.
"Fuck you asshole! Fuck you!" A disgusting throat grab occurred, you can tell, you hear breathing one minute then horrifying gargling the next.
"Help" a quiet voice screeched, it was like the noise was trying to escape but with great pain and difficulty.
"Frankie stop it! Let him go!" Mr Amuro cried.
Cries of pain kept repeating, you know the noises of a man being punched and strangled.
"Frankie!" He screeched.
I couldn't bare his screaming anymore I flung the door open.

Frank jumped in fear and at the same time the bullet popped. It deafened my ears and I fainted automatically. The last thing I can recall the ringing, the deafening ring from the gun and the last noise of the man he has just killed. It was a cry, an ear piercing scream like a pig being slaughtered. The final cry, the throat cry, the gargling of blood. The squeal, the screech of pain. It will stain my soul and dampen my thoughts of love and peace.

The man was very beaten up, fat lip bruised eyes, he had taken a long and great beating. The blues and purples smothering his face and blood dripping. I could barely see his eyes and there were broken teeth and glass shattered across the room. Frank had just killed someone, my Frank.

The look on his face when he saw me walk in, he looked scary. He looked the angriest I've ever seen someone, the look on his eyes was psychopathic. His veins popping and his face red with anger. He was at that point, it was like a Rottweiler growling. The inhumane stare, the lips open slightly. It was terrifying.