Ten Paces by Terence Gallagher

“Ten paces, then turn and shoot. Ten.”

How did I get here?

“Nine.”

An argument with a fool in the saloon.

“Eight.”

All I wanted was to attract no notice, be invisible.

“Seven.”

I feel my fear peaking. The change—it's starting.

“Six.”

I don't want to hurt anyone… do I?

“Five.”

My feet expand, shredding my boots. Some onlookers seem confused.

“Four.”

Distending muscles rend my corduroy shirt.

“Three.”

Horses buck and bray. People run for cover.

“Two.”

It's too late.

“One.”

I turn and snatch the fool's bullet midair. My vision turns blood red.

This town's already dead.