Dealing with a dead body

 I didn't want to be out. Well, nobody wants to be out on a chilly December night, with a cold breeze, unless they're deranged or a bunch of show offs who like to show how depressed they are. I am neither. I had to be out.

It was about 2am. I had gone out to take a piss in the yard. I didn't go to the bathroom because I didn't want to have to maneuver through rooms as I was bound to knock something over in the darkness and my half slumber as I had done on many occasions. So, yard it was.

It was, like any usual night, dark. The village was asleep. It was quiet. There were no sounds, not human ones anyway. There was chirping of crickets and howls of far away wolves and occasional hooting of owls. It was a usual night in which I had to take a piss and go back to bed, except it wasn't. Today, I had to drag a body.

I don't remember him sneaking up on me. I was busy. Sometimes, and you must have noticed it too, while peeing it gets weird. You get a tingling sensation of bliss as the pee comes out. Pee orgasms. So, I was lost in that sensation of bliss and didn't notice him coming behind me and pointing a gun at the back of my head. It was only after I finished that I felt someone was at my back. 

I slowly turned. In the darkness I couldn't see his face, which was covered with a hood anyways, but I did see the barrel of the gun clear enough, which was pointed at my face.

For a moment, I froze. I couldn't think. All my thoughts were gone, everything was gone, except me, him and the barrel of his gun in my face. Then I straightened up.

"Don't move," he said and I could hear a slight fear in his voice. I could tell he wasn't experienced. I recognized his voice, barely. I knew he was from the village, just not who he was. And I could tell that he could barely handle that gun.

"Not a fucking move or…."

"Yeah, I know," I said,"you'll blow my head off."

It seemed like a long time, me staring down the barrel of his gun, listening to his shaky breath and my fast beating heart.

Suddenly, I felt hot, a blood rush to my head, I felt my brain pounding and I made my move. He wasn't fast enough. In an instant, I wrestled the gun out of his hand and pointed it at him. Now it was his turn to freeze. 

"Please…," he said "I am…."

The pounding in my head hadn't subsided and before I could think I pulled the trigger. 

There was a loud bang and in the flash of the gun I saw his eyes go wide as the bullet made a hole right between his eyes. He fell backward and dropped, dead. The bastard had kept the gun cocked.

I heard footsteps coming from my house and quickly hid the gun away and pulled the body out of sight in the darkness as my father turned on the light and came out.

"What was that?" He asked.

"No idea," I lied.

"Sounded like a gunshot," he yawned "and not far at that."

"Maybe. I don't know."

"Hmm. No one else is awake. How could they sleep through it?"

"Guess they don't wanna bother themselves in the cold."

"Yeah," he yawned again, "why are you up? Because of the shot?"

"Nah, I just came to pee."

"Alright. I'm going to bed now. Don't stay out for long in the cold."

"Yes, father."

He went in and I started wracking my brain wondering what I would do now. I couldn't just leave the body there. I had to get rid of it. 

There's a nahar not more than 30m from my house. I got to work. I went over to the body, took off his jacket and wrapped it tightly around his head so as to prevent the blood from gushing out. I tried to lift him but he was too heavy. So, I dragged. I dragged him over the grass and on yard and got him on the track. I dragged him all the way to the bridge. Current was strong. I could hear the churning of water. I lifted him with effort and rolled him over the bridge. I heard the splash his body made when it reached the water. Only then I realized that I was exhausted and shaking pretty hard. I couldn't tell if it was due to fear or the cold. I waited for it to pass. It didn't but I still had work to do. I got up and walked towards the house. As I got off the bridge, I glanced back at the churning water. There wasn't anything to see in dark. I walked home.

I took a flashlight and in it's light poured a few buckets of water on the spot where he had died. There wasn't too much blood, his cap and hood had prevented the blood and brains from leaking out. I washed them off carefully with plenty of water. Then I looked for the drag marks. There was almost none on my yard because of the grass. Some of it was on the track. I took care of those. 

I couldn't sleep that night. I lay awake turning the gun over and over in my hands. Fear had subsided and though I had killed a person, I didn't feel guilty. I felt relief and pride of a task well done.

As the light broke out, I got up and did a survey again. There was no blood on my yard, no drag marks and no blood on the track. I got to the bridge and looked in the direction of the current. He must have drifted far by now, that is, if they hadn't kept the next dam closed. Even if they had it was far enough. I smiled and walked towards home. I kept the gun.