I awoke feeling the cold steel barrel of a .44 Magnum pressed against my forehead. Fear told me to run but logic indicated that if I made one wrong move, I’d be a dead man. Perhaps I already was.

The morning light filtered through the open blinds and illuminated the front room of my log cabin. Sitting in my recliner, my waking eyes squinted as they adjusted to the brilliant radiance. The person holding the gun stood in front of the lit window, appearing in silhouette. In their current position, I couldn’t identify the individual.

The voice, however, I could hear just fine. “It’s time to die, Carl.” The masculine, low-pitched voice was dry and raspy. It reminded me of a very old man who had lived his life as a chain smoker. The words were as cold as the steel of his gun.

The figure moved slightly, creating a new angle that allowed me to see him more clearly. I gasped. Stooped over me was a dead man – at least he should’ve been dead. I ought to know. I was the one who had killed him.

He gave a dry chuckle. “I see by the look in your eyes that you haven’t forgotten me. That’s good.” He cocked his revolver and it was, for a moment, the loudest sound in the room.

Try as I might, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his pale, maggot-eaten face. The remains of his hair matted together in clumps like dreadlocks. His left ear hung by a strip of rotting flesh and most of his teeth were missing.

His clothes were ragged and torn. Dirt covered them entirely, as though he’d clawed his way out of a shallow grave. Considering how and where I had buried him, I knew that was exactly what he’d done.

I could scream but it’d do no good. More than 20 acres of forest surrounded my log cabin home on every side. I enjoyed my solitude and the land provided plenty of area to fish, hunt and bury a dead body – if only he’d stay dead. If he shot me, the loud report of his gun would attract little attention.

I had every reason to be frightened but rage consumed me. Perhaps my sanity had snapped upon seeing this corpse bending over me. Perhaps I was incapable of feeling anything but anger. I had good reason to be furious.

For more years than I cared to remember, this man, Brian Clemmins, had been my closest friend. He was even Best Man at my wedding back when I had a life. It’s hard to believe that “Carl & Brian” was once synonymous with “Laurel & Hardy.” We were inseparable until his treachery devastated my world.

I wanted to scream curses at this man; he was responsible for ruining my life. Obscenities and hatred sat on the edge of my tongue waiting to spew forth like venom. Instead, I remained silent as Brian spoke with breath as putrid as a pile of rotting rats.

Brian’s corpse rasped in agitation. “Before I kill you, I’m gonna explain a thing or two.”

A bone thin finger pointed at the multiple bullet holes in his shirt. Blood surrounded the holes and streaked down the dirty cloth in dried and flaking streams. “I know why you shot me, Carl. You think I raped and murdered your daughter. But I didn’t do it.”

“Liar!” I screamed, not caring that he held my life in his dead hands. “I saw her in your arms! You were covered in her blood! You deserved every bullet and more – you child molester!”

Brian’s eyebrows scrunched upward together, wrinkling his dirty forehead as his flaking lips curved downward. “If you’d only given me a chance to explain... But no, that’d be askin’ too much, Carl. You’ve always had a short temper – still do I see. Now you’re gonna keep that temper in check, or I’ll air condition that brain of yours right now instead of later.

I bit my lip and settled further into the recliner.

“That’s good. You just sit back and open your ears instead of your mouth for a change.

“You’re right, you found your daughter dead in my arms when you busted in the door. And yes, her blood was all over me. But you don’t know what happened before you found me. So help me, you’re gonna hear it now.

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