Shoot Them In The Head
“I'm telling you it's not just for zombies.” Maksim Nikitin
said as he screwed the silencer into the .38 pistol. “Shooting them in the head
should be a universal rule” he said with a last twist. They were driving down a
two-way street deep into some national park or other. Maksim always forgot the
strange names Americans give things. But he always remembered a good place to
bury a body.
The gentleman driving was one Igor Sokolov who was known among the Bratva as
Uchenyy Myasnik or The Scholar Butcher. Not because of his education or wit but
because he liked killing educated people. He thought since they were smarter it
was always more fair since they could outsmart him, but up until this point
none had. “What about ghosts?” Igor asked, his question sounding more like a
demand. A thumping sound from the trunk made him glance back for a second. “I
have it on very good authority that head shots do not work against ghosts”.
Maksim laughed a deep Russian laugh “And where did this very good authority get
his information and who is he?” Igor looked over at him with a serious
expression on his face “It's me. The ghosts of the people I killed come to
haunt me sometimes, so I have to shoot them and scream their name to drive them
off. Out of all the times I have shot at them I have never noticed a head shot
doing any more or less damage. Hell, most of them do not have heads because I
sawed them off.” Igor slapped Maksim's shoulder while laughing as if Maksim was
in on some shared joke.
Maksim gave a nervous laugh to make sure he did not offend
Igor even though he did not care for the joke. Maksim was a Derzhatel Obshchaka,
a businessman, who occasionally had to kill some people to ensure the pipeline
of money did not get clogged. He did not enjoy it and always tried to find a
profitable way to avoid it or pay someone to do it. For him it was business,
but for Igor, for Igor it was enjoyable and something he sought out in every
situation. A muffled scream and more thumping from the trunk brought Maksim out
of his thoughts and back to reality. “Shut up back there!” he yelled at the
back of the car. “What about a majik bullet?” he asked of the driver as they
turned onto a dirt road. The thick trees on either side of the road dissected
the rays of the full moon like a black and white stained-glass window. What
moonlight slipped through the pines created shadows the looked like claws
sliding down the hood of the car. Igor contemplated the question “You mean like
blessed by a priest”. When Maksim shrugged and mumbled “I guess” Igor stopped
talking for a moment. He did not want Maksim to know that the question had
stumped him. He also thought about how much a priest would charge him to bless
some bullets. “So, who is this asshole we are killing?” Igor asked. He really
did not care as it made no difference to him, but he wanted to distract from
the fact that he did not have an answer to the blessed bullet question. Maksim
always sounded so smug when he knew he had outwitted Igor and Igor knew killing
Maksim would be fun but really not worth the trouble it would bring. It was
disappointing to Igor but Maksim outranked him so that was that.
“Some asshole.” Maksim replied “He was dating the Pakhan's
daughter. Things got rough and he bit her and left a mark and now the Pakhan
wants him dead.” Maksim said this with no emotion attached to it. While he did
not like the violence the Pakhan had asked him to handle this one personally
and that meant it was going to be done no matter his preference to violence.
Everything in the Bratva was a test of loyalty that you only ever failed once.
“He would have done it himself as the Vory v Zakone dictates but he has too
much heat on him right now with the feds watching him. So, he sent us.”.
Maksim motioned to pull off on the side of the road and Igor
backed in with the trunk facing the woods. The creaking of the car door sounded
alien among the insect and bird sounds of the forest. A hush fell for a moment
as they slammed the doors closed. “Bozhe moi” Igor grumbled. “I cannot stand
someone who would hurt a woman”. Maksim was taken aback by the statement. “I
find that surprising with the number of people you have killed”. Igor chuckled
“Don't get me wrong. I am a great lover of violence, but I abhor sexual
violence. There is no reason for that shit!” Maksim nodded in agreement as he
opened the trunk. “What about demons and devils” Igor asked “They have those
big horns, so it does no good shooting them in the head. Plus, they are
supernatural so normal weapons won't work. Maksim was looking down at the body
in the trunk, He was a thin young man of pale disposition. One of those goths
that get college age girls excited. “Getting through the horn would just be a
matter of caliber” Maksim stated factually “But supernatural all goes back to
the majik bullet. If you have a majik bullet, then a head shot will work.”
Pulling the young man out of the trunk Igor let the body hit
the ground with a wet thud and a muffled curse. Thin as he was the little prick
had put up a viscous fight. He had left Maksim with a black eye and Igor was
pretty sure his ribs were badly bruised if not cracked. It took both grown men
to get him down and get the cuffs on him and the bag over his head. After the
bag went on, he just stopped fighting for some reason and seemed to let the 2
men put him in the trunk with no more struggle. They had a distance to walk and
neither felt like carrying him, so Maksim made the command decision to take the
hood off and let the kid walk the rest of the way.
In the melee before Maksim had not noticed how young the kid
was. Probably no more than 20 with white, blond hair and ice blue eyes. Unlike
most of their abductees the kid showed no signs of having been crying or
wetting himself. He was not looking around fearfully and when Maksim suddenly
decided to take the tape off his mouth, he found a wicked smile waiting behind
it. He looked from one man to the other with what Maksim would call amusement,
but Igor knew when someone was sizing him up. “Silver” the kid said with a voice
that sounded like the songs of the nigh and the weight of time.
“What?” Maksim asked as he pulled the kid to his feet and
started moving him forward with one hand, the pistol held in the other. Giving
Maksim a polite nod the kid started walking forward “The answer to your
quandary about the ghosts and demons being killed by shooting them in the head.
The bullet must be made with silver to begin with and then treated in different
ways. Such as a demon’s bullet must be pure silver that has been dipped in an
oil made from the circumcision of an unbaptized male child. Ghost killers must
be dipped in holy water and blessed by a priest over 80 years old.” The kid
stated these things with all the confidence of a scholar talking about his
entire life's study.
Maksim looked over at Igor who shrugged in response. “How do
you know such things” Maksim asked with some amusement in his voice. “Oh, you
know, you pick some things up as you travel around” the kid said matter of
factually, his voice calm with just a slight hint of excitement. Igor was about
to ask how someone so young had traveled anywhere but his mother’s house but
decided he didn't care enough to find out. Beside the fact they had crested the
hill where they had dug the kid's grave, so further conversation was
unnecessary.
“Oh” said the kid. “Is this not one of those dig your own grave scenarios?”
Maksim smiled a smile that could almost be called friendly. “It is a courtesy
we extend to our clientele. All we ask is when you get to heaven you let them
know that you had polite executioners. Also, the last time we tried that the
crying annoyed Igor and he whined about it for a week”. Igor made a noise of
disgust “Help me, don’t kill me, not in the face. My eyes” Igor waved his hand
as if dismissing the story. The kid gave a chuckle that sounded like dried
leaves blowing through an autumn night. “My thanks for the kindness. I always
found the practice overly cruel and barbaric. I shall try to return the
favor”.
There was an audible clink of metal breaking as the chains
of the handcuffs broke away and the kid spun around. His ice blue eyes shown in
the moonlight like a wolf’s. Two large fangs descended from the roof of his
mouth and a hiss that sounded like steam escaping from hell came from the kid's
mouth. Before he could strike with jagged claws there was the thump of a
silenced pistol and a hole suddenly appeared in the kid’s forehead. The kid
staggered for a second before stammering “Head shots...not work…vampires”
before falling over. “Unless it is silver poured with ground garlic and cured
in holy water” Maksim said with smoke coming out of the barrel of the gun. “It
is 2022, do you not think everyone knows what a vampire bite looks like?” He
knew the Pakhan would be pleased and the duo had proven their loyalty to the
Bratva.
Looking at Igor Maksim said triumphantly “I told you, head
shots work on everything!” With little fanfare Igor walked over and rolled the
kid into the hole. Going to the truck he pulled the gas can out of the back and
poured it into the hole. “You know what else works against everything?” Maksim
asked Igor who was lighting a cigarette “Fire?” Igor asked throwing the match
into the hole igniting it. “Fire” Maksim said nodding. “Except ghosts” Igor
said, “Bozhe moi” Maksim exclaimed “You and your ghosts. You need to kill less
people.” The argument lasted next to the warmth of burning undead until the
dawn turned it into dust.