At the top of the stairs a panicked and horrified Dr. Polynice froze in his tracks. The look in his eyes was pure horror. Nothing like out-crazying the crazy. He didn’t know what to do when he saw me with blood pouring down my face, flaps of skin hanging off my shoulder, and a big shit-eating grin plastered across my mug. He had three ways to go; up to the other floors, back into my apartment, or right at me. No matter what, he was mine.

Polynice chose “apartment,” dashing suddenly out of my line of sight. I was on him in a split second and almost ran throat-first into his scalpel. Sliding underneath the doctor’s clumsy attack, I rolled to my feet next to the couch where all my toys waited. I thought about grabbing the brass knuckles, but snapped up the gun instead. I had it on him before he could take a second slash.

Polynice dropped the scalpel and raised his hands. “You’ve got me. I surrender.”

I shot him in the kneecap, and when he hit the floor I put another slug through his shoulder.

Dick.

The cops were pretty decent about this arrest. They usually gave me a hard time, being an ex-cop and all, but the whole state had been looking for Polynice since he’d escaped. He had killed four guards and a nurse just to get his vengeance on me. What an idiot. For a doctor, someone who was supposed to save lives, Polynice had destroyed quite a few.

Plus, the bastard bled all over my apartment. There were holes in the hardwood floor from the shots I’d fired. The window was shattered. Rain was blowing in and the whole place had a thick layer of gunpowder and body odor floating right at nose level like milky fog.

Just then my landlord, Judy something-or-other, decided to stop by for an impromptu inspection of the building with some people who were along to assess for refinancing or some such shit. Judy was a dried up, little old lady—a strip of overcooked bacon in a jogging suit.

In the past, I’d managed to keep her at bay. I had “avoiding the landlord” and “pretending not to be home” down to an art. But when the cops dragged Polynice right by her, bleeding and squealing like a stuck pig, she would not be denied. The jig was up.

I smiled, but she didn’t notice. She stepped through the open door and slowly scanned the blood, smoke, and broken glass. Her face slowly turned red, starting at her shriveled neck and climbing right to the top of her small, bulb-shaped head like mercury up a thermometer. I dropped the smile. What was the use? She had me, dead to rights. It didn’t help that I was three months behind on rent.