Staring down the barrel of a gun is not the most pleasant of experiences.
In his case, it was outright horrifying.
The steely glint, the dark hue and the cold metal that heralded the uneasy prospect of impending doom, were enough to send him to such heights of fear as he had never known.
Shiny beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead, the sudden dryness of his throat was making him swallow very hard and he could feel every inch of his body screaming hoarse - " Run! Run like you have never run in your life!"
But he couldn't move, not with the gunman's finger on the trigger threatening to exert that little extra pressure that would fire the bullet straight through his heart.
He managed a wan smile, contemplating the irony of his being at the receiving-end of the kind of death that he had meted out to so many people.