His hands felt nervous and awkward around the handle of the gun.  He bought it at a pawn shop, but had no idea if it was a decent one.  He had never even held a gun before, let alone shoot one.

But here he was, tucked away, in a dark alley, watching people pass by.  How would he choose?  Who should he kill?

He didn’t want to.  But his time had finally run out.  The doctors gave him 6 weeks to live…on the outside.  He had to do this.  He needed more time.  Time to do all the things he had always wanted to do.  All he had to do was choose someone, anyone, and kill them.

Because in this world, if you killed someone, you receive all the time they would have had left.