text: *I just wrote this relatively short short story, however I am not sure how I feel about it. I would really appreciate any input you might have! -- “Don’t fucking go down there.” The man said to me. I ignored him as I opened the door. As I open the door I look down and see a rickety wooden staircase, going down into a black abyss. The only hope of light came from a bare lightbulb hung from the ceiling. “Listen you little fuck, don’t take one step down those stairs or you will regret it.” He spat. I stared into his eyes. His eyes were angry, meanwhile mine were blank. HIs eyes had fire in them, a desire to stop me from going downstairs and ruining his life. “Look, I know you people don’t take bribes, but I have money. A lot of money.” The man bargained. They always bargain. One step down “You will regret this!” The man got up and reached for his gun he had tucked in his waistband. He walked to the top of the staircase and aimed the barrel of his pistol at my eyes. I continued to stare at him with my left foot about to fall onto the stair below the one I was on. If my intelligence is correct then there is no way I can let this man get away with whatever insidious crimes this man has been committing. Rumors have it that there are several children hidden in that basement. This man needs to come to justice and I will be the one to serve him that. “Please man. I’m begging you.” The man drew the hammer back on the gun, making that cliche gun sound you always hear in the movies. The man wasn’t going to shoot me, we both knew that. I walked down two more stairs when I heard the gunshot. That loud crack that leaves a ringing in your ears, making yourself wonder if you are still in reality or if that was the end. The same gunshot I hear just about everyday. I looked up at the man, who was lying in a pool of his own blood by now. I let a brief sigh of relief out as I continued down the steps. As I made it down to the bottom of the stairs I turned on a light to see something worse than I was expecting. Children. Dozens of them. All sitting down, some of them shaking, most of them crying. This is why I do this job, to get scum like this off of the streets. To cleanse the world of people like this. It is not a beautiful job, nor is it an easy job, but it is a job that has to be done. I continued to stare at the children, counting them, and then began to make my way to the top of the stairs. “Good shot, Dieter.” I said to the man who killed the damn swine that was hiding these despicable children, “We got a 22 children downstairs, all appear to be needing of cleansing.” I said with a smirk on my face. “I think we have room on the train for 22 more!” Dieter laughed.