Robert M. Miles hand shook violently, as held the pistol up to his right temple.
He thought, "Would it hurt very much? Would he die instantly?"
He was extremely frightened as he contemplated his impending suicide at his home that terrible cold night high in the Wyoming Rockies. After the servants had gone for the day, he had written the note precisely - so they would all know the truth tomorrow morning. He knew that 'she' would find it with his body, when she returned home later that fateful evening. It pleased him to think that she would be the one to see his brains and blood splattered all over his white leather couch and wall.
"The Bitch deserved it," he thought, "Everyone will know that it was her fault. ...That Slut! She would get her due now, when they found his body, and his note. It would be her that they all laughed at now, and not him anymore."
He had carefully redone his Will this morning with his Lawyers, while she was in town shopping, to make absolutely sure that she would not get a fucking penny out of him, ever again. Everything would go to charities. Her lover and her would never live in his luxury, as they had schemed they would. He had made sure of it. He had not invested and worked his balls off his entire life, to see her get a penny of it, now. He'd fix her ass good, and she'd be sorry afterwards, ...forever.
"She has really screwed herself good this time," he chuckled.
As Bob took another gulp of the bitter whiskey, he grimaced as it burned slowly going down his throat. He opened the 38 special again (for at least the tenth time) making sure it was loaded correctly. He looked at the six bullets, and he knew in a few moments the first one would be deeply embedded in his brain (or in the nearby wall).
He laughed, thinking about her. "She's probably screwing that lazy good for nothing asshole right now, and they're probably thinking that the gravy train will roll on forever, at my expense. Tomorrow, they won't have a fucking penny. I'll get my revenge, ...from the grave."
The smooth round end of the pistol felt cool on the side of his warm sweaty temple. His finger was on the trigger, ready to squeeze it at any second.
"One more drink of the whiskey, and while it was burning going down, ...I'll do it."
(The several Valium's he took earlier hadn't taken away his nervousness and anxiety, as he had mistakenly hoped they would have, and the booze had only made him tipsy, and even more frightened.)
As he drained the last of the whiskey from the glass into his mouth and started to swallow it, he nervously started to slowly squeeze his twitching finger on the stiff trigger of the pistol. He squeezed his eyes closed tightly, as he fearfully anticipated the impending surge of pain that would shoot through his head.
Suddenly, everything went black, and it was all over for Robert M. Miles. (The darkness from where he had come, overtook his short existence in the light.)
* * * *
Michael slowly eased his finger off the trigger of the gun, and laid it down on the huge nearby ornately carved wooden desk. He thought, "That fucking gutless wimp almost ruined this perfectly good body, ...before I had a chance to 'walk into it'. All over some whore? This man was so wealthy, healthy, and young, and he wanted to give it all up because some woman had hurt his pride. ...What a wanker. Well, he got what he wanted, (almost) and I got what I wanted; his unwanted and undamaged body, and most importantly, ...his Life, and everything that goes along with it!"
(The beasts of the dark abyss departed angrily, having not gotten what they had previously bargained for.)
Michael looked around the large room at all of the elaborate furnishings, and the well polished reddish brown tropical mahogany paneled walls - the best wealth could obtain. He chuckled and thought, "Not too bad. Just like his resume' had stated. This poor bastard had everything money could buy, ...but brains. I will need his wealth for my upcoming Quest. This makes it sooo much easier. Last time I had to acquire it all by myself, which took 20 years, before I had enough assets to start to track 'the boys' down. I do believe I'm getting better at this 'little game' of HIS. I think this time I'll enjoy some of the rewards for myself first, ...no sense in ending it all too soon, this time? Besides, (he smiled broadly) I have nothing better planned for the next ...? Well, ...actually, ...till the end of this millennia - at least."
* * * *
Just a that moment, Michael heard a noise at the study door, and he was momentarily startled back to reality. (But then he remembered that he was now the jerk off, and he did not have to be concerned.)
A breathtakingly beautiful, in her prime, woman, in her early thirties he guessed, opened the door to the Study, and she walked in. She was dressed exquisitely.
She saw Michael, and stopped.
He just looked at her, and she at him.)
No one said anything, as they just stared at each other for a few moments.
He thought, "The best money can buy!"
Then she said to him, "Oh ...Bob, you're still up, Hun? I would have thought you would have been asleep hours ago, but I saw the light under your study door when I came home?"
(Michael said nothing.)
She then observed the empty bottle of whiskey on his desk and the glass next to it, and she said, "Have you been drinking, Bob? This is sooo not like you. You know what booze does to you."
(Michael still said nothing.)
Then she noticed the gun on the table, and she became frightened.
Michael observed her looking at the pistol, ...and he slowly smiled.
After a long pause, he said to her, "I was going to blow your lazy boyfriend's balls off, ...but I decided not to waste a perfectly good bullet on him, ...I thought I would save it for you."
She just looked at him strangely, not knowing what to say at the sudden change in his normally meek behavior - which took her completely off guard. She attributed it to his drinking.
He sternly said to her, "Get your fucking ass over here!"
She just looked at him from the other side of the dimly lit room, that illuminated by the huge stone fireplace on the opposite wall, with a now frightened look in her eyes.
Michael repeated forcefully, "I SAID GET YOUR FUCKING ASS OVER OVER HERE, ...NOW!!"
She slowly, and timidly, walked over to him on her high heels, and shyly said, "What's the matter, Baby? This isn't like you to be so mad at me. I was just out with the girls again tonight, at another charity benefit. There's nobody else Bobby, ...I promise."
(It was at that exact moment, which Michael knew for sure, that he was in control of her, and she would willingly obey him.)
He slowly walked around her, looking her over from head to toe. She was slender waisted, and her breasts were naturally full and firm looking. Her legs were long and slender in her short black skirt and high heels. He thought, "She looks more like a statue of Venus, than Venus herself did."
"Her ass was perfect," he observed. "It would stop a herd of stampeding elephants dead in their tracks at a hundred paces. It's been quite a while since I've seen anything that looked this fine."
Her face was extremely beautiful, but at the same time, also cute. Her shoulder length black shiny well styled hair, radiated. Every pore of her body oozed beauty and sexuality.
He thought, "I've struck the Mother Load here. A real daughter of Eve herself!" He licked his dry lips, thinking about a delightful memory from the very distant past,
He walked up to her and forcefully kissed her on the mouth. At first, she instinctively tried to pull back, (as his breath tasted like whiskey) but then gave in, and opened her mouth receptively to him - hoping to calm his anger toward her.
He said to her, "Probably less than an hour ago, that lazy worthless asshole of yours probably had his tongue, or whatever, in your pretty little month?"
She thought to herself, "Is this the little wimp that I left home a few hours ago, to get away from, ...and to see Jack? If this is what whiskey does to this jerk, I'll make sure he drinks it EVERY night."
Michael forcefully said, "Take off your skirt, ...NOW!"
She questioningly and shyly responded, "Bobby ...please?"
Michael immediately responded, "I SAID NOW, BITCH!"
(She quickly removed her short black satin skirt.)
He observed her long beautiful slender stockinged legs, her creamy smooth thigh skin above the fancy lacy stretch top of her stockings, the white ruffled garter belt straps, and her exquisite expensive European silk lace underpants.
Michael quickly said, "And the underpants too, ...but keep the stockings and garter belt on."
(She obeyed.)