It had stopped raining but the drops still held to the windows that looked out onto the car park now empty of customers. From the inside the rain drops give the appearance that the building itself is crying. Through sullen eyes the world appears saddened.
Sitting on the check out chair inside I look into the eyes of each of the hostages in front of me. One by one they all turn, moving their gaze to the floor or to the walls around me, except for the last.
She returns my stare and holds firm. She begins to shake but refuses to submit.
I ask her 'What is your name?'
'I won't tell you' bitterly stubborn
'Don't be scared' I say 'I won't hurt you'
She doesn't instantly reply
I place my gun down on the conveyor belt and press the buttton to turn it on. The gun returns to me. I place it away. The act repeats.
'Why are you doing this?' She asks
I switch off the belt and face her once more. My eyes lost and abandoned.
'Your name is everything' I begin 'Vanity is the most encouraged sin of our generation and if one does not possess the necessary attributes to gain a celebrity status in the arts then how is one supposed to have a name?'
I look over them all. None reply.
'Religion did not make me do this yet it is necessary for it to be blamed to achieve the level of coverage required. I do this because I have been left with nothing else but an overwhelming need of place. At any moment I will be shot through those windows and that is exactly what I want. A single shot to end a single day of an unextraordinarily life of someone promised nothing but the extraordinary. Despite my true story the world will fantasize their own. Everybody loves a real life tragedy'
'You're crazy' I hear one of them say
'Maybe, but you'll see by tomorrow that my name will be known in every household across the world...As for today, the angels are ready and the second act is over'
With that said a body hits the floor smiling. The hostage situation is over. All networks broadcast the successful operation. The third act begins.