Death reveals its colors in black. The silver full moon shines on the gun and the cold wind caresses it, gently nudging its owner to keep it back in the bag, urging him not to use it this night. But the wind only makes his lust deeper, and the moonlight makes it stronger. Trepidation gives way to resolve. Fear gives way to anger. Hesitation gives way, finally, to tragic action.
Cold night with a colder killer on the loose. The pulse of nature, beating hard in this part of the world. From the outside, from up above as in from our plane or from the moon, Chicago looks neat, and sparkling. Bright specks of orange and yellow light pocking the dark landscape, glistening at every back and every forth of the chilly Chicago Wind. From here, everything seems calm and serene, but look closely in on 201 E Randolph St. Do you see the Millennium Park? And do you see the Cloud Gate glimmering in the night life? Watch closely, amongst the many visitors this night, there are 12 kids and 4 adults in front of the Bean. They are clicking pictures of themselves and they are clicking pictures of everything they see. The kids are super excited, it seems it is the birthday of one little girl in the group. How merry. Now, zoom out, pan right to the edge of the park, do you see him, the killer on the loose, waltzing towards the Bean, swinging in his arms, the black apparition of Miss Death?
Stop your horses. Stop the goddamn aircraft, Captain! I want to watch what happens. Will the shooter succeed, and will the kids die? I don’t want them to, Captain. What should I do for I am so far away, looking helplessly and, and Captain, looking haplessly? The Captain cannot stop the plane you stupid idiot. But, he is however banking the plane and circling the Bean from above. It seems, the Captain is interested in what is about to transpire, down below.
As our view circles above like a vulture, down below, the killer walks with pumped strides. Look only at him, one might even feel he looks like a fighter, but look at who he is going to kill and then one realizes, the killer is sadistic, a broken soul who isn’t supposed to be free, a tragic creation of God. Tell me, how can our God do this?
Sweat trickles down his armpits, tickling him and trying with every last salty effort to stop him from killing the kids. Poor bastard, all he needed was a proper childhood, a fuking decent upbringing and look what the Society made him do tonight? Captain, a little slower, he is about to enter the crowd of people, he is going to open fire any minute now.
The killer rises his Kalashnikov and points it up into the moon sky. Blast. Blast. Blast. Three bullets whizz into the night sky, and are racing towards us. Don’t worry, we are safe, The Captain, saw that. Watch, the crowd in the park have scampered and splayed on the ground, while the kids have huddled into a tight corner near the reflecting Bean. Do you see, that their reflections seem so tall on the Bean? And the reflection of the killer aiming at them, seems but a tiny black speck. Don’t kill them, please. Captain, do something, I beg you, the kids, oh the kids Captain!
Wait, who is that old man there? Some old beat cop prying for a shot at the killer from behind a tree? Yes! C’mon! Take the shot. Take it Good Sir, and kill that asshole!
Blast. Motherfuking Blast.
The killer is down. One head shot and a subsequent neck shot, not that the neck shot mattered but the killer is as dead as a rock. He is on the ground and his red blood is free at last. Watch, how the blood is spraying happily out of him. Yes Captain, we did it! The killer is down! The kids are so happy. Look, everyone, look at the kids. Look at the birthday girl! And look finally at the dancing reflections on the Bean. Chicago came through Captain!
‘Humanity came through, Boss.’ The Captain speaks the golden words.
‘Aye. Aye. Captain. Now stop the circling and get me to Las Vegas. The hookers are waiting for me.’
‘Yes Boss.’
The pulse of nature, lub-dub and another l.u.b-d..u..b, slowing down and relaxing at the thought of the many lives the Good Sir saved tonight. Look at Chicago, look at all of it. Orange and yellow lights pattering resiliently to reveal a Beautiful Chicago. From up above it looks good and down below, it looks even better. The cold Chicago Wind blows over the dead killer’s body with an ‘I told you so’ intent and finally swirls cheerfully around the kids hugging their adults for dear life. Moon smiles and the hookers in Vegas can’t wait to meet me.
