In the depths of the Amazon
Three loud crackles in a row, three defining sounds that could only signal something dark. They were not joyous bells, nor festive fireworks. They were the call of the now familiar to all, the black-robed porter of Hades. And the tired but unstoppable boatman and traveler did not miss the opportunity. Death was once again present.
Meli came violently out of her dream journey. She saw the box fall from Gary"s hands and three spinning bullets lodged in his head. His eyes were wide open and shocked by the unexpected fatal blow he had received.
One bullet to the head was enough, but the hand holding the murder weapon felt that two more were needed. Did three pulls of the trigger finally provide the shooter with some kind of pleasure? Only he knows, just as the
