• Aron sat on the cold concrete ground outside, three alley ways down from Troy’s Tavern, the local bar that Mister Hex was always seen going into. He stared at the ground. ‘Am I really going to do this?…Is it wrong for me to want to so badly?..’ Aron’s head buzzed with questions he himself kept giving up, and he could get no conclusion to put his thoughts to rest. Suddenly he heard the bell hanging over the door ring, signaling that someone had either entered or exited. He fingered the 42 caliber pistol under his jacket as Teddy’s father, Mr. Hex, walked into the alley way. The man gave him a weary look, but, paid no more attention than that, and walked on by. Once the man was a few feet away, Aron slowly got to his feet. He turned his back to the man, as if he was going to head out the other side of the alley, and then said, “You are a sick b*****d, mister Hex.” The man suddenly stopped, and turned around, glaring at Arons back. Aron doubted the man could tell who he was. “What the hell did you just say?” Was Mister Hex’s reply, the words sliding off of his tongue like Ice. The large bear growled lowly. “Who the hell are you?” Aron didn’t turn around, but, he kept his grip on the gun under his coat.
    “You sit around all night and drink to your hearts content. Trying to drown out the fact that you are a failure as a father, and, a failure of a man.” Aron spoke calmly…Confidently. He knew he spoke the truth. Mister Hex growled and turned fully to face his back. The man growled furiously. “Who the hell do you think you are?! You don’t know a damn thing about me!” Aron found himself chuckling lowly as the man yelled back at him. “I know that you beat your wife and son Teddy. He comes to school with bruises daily…Tell me, why do you do that to him Mister Hex?” The man didn’t reply. He stared at Aron’s back, a growl in his throat and a glare in his eyes. Aron continued on merciless. “Is it because you know deep down that you are indeed a failure? So you treat your son as one, because you can plainly see that he is better than you, and you want him to feel as you do? Worthless?” For a moment, the expression on Mister Hex’s face faltered, turning into a startled look. However, the fire returned quickly.
    “Shut up! You don’t know anything about me!” Aron laughed contemptuously.
    “Teddy never does a thing to you, and you treat him like dirt.”
    “I said shut up! Or do you want me to break your face!?”
    “Cant come up with anything better then that? I’m sure Teddy could…”
    Mister Hex growled loudly. He suddenly turned around and began walking off, his feet shuffling across the ground. Aron growled lowly. “Don’t walk away from me you son of a b***h!” Mister Hex stopped his walking and turned around again, anger plain in his face.
    “Piss off! What I do is my business, none of yours!” Aron growled.
    “That’s where your wrong. You see, your son, Teddy, is a very good fiend of mine, and I grow tired of seeing him hurt everyday, and blaming it on his own ‘Clumsiness’. Teddy is a pacifist for Christ sake! And you beat him for nothing!” Mister Hex stood there, not knowing what he could say. Aron frowned, still not facing the man. Mister Hex knew it was true. Then, Aron spoke again. “I have another friend, who’s father is just like you. However…That friends mother solved the problem, after he son stepped up for her. However…Teddy wont strike back because he does not believe in violence. Though, I am sure he could tear your slimy hide to shreds…And his mother wants him to have a father, though, I don’t see you as much of one…” He gripped the gun tighter. “I have found that the only way to deal with people like you is rather simple actually. You can not be fixed, for nothing is broken. You simply do things differently. However…Your different is wrong.” Aron slowly pulled the gun from under his coat, the metal shining in the light of a street lamp. Mister Hex saw what it was, and quickly turned and began to run. Aron growled, spinning around and holding the gun in a perfect position. In that same fluid motion, he fired, the bullet shooting right through Mister Hex’s leg. The man yowled loudly in pain, and fell, rolling across the ground and sliding with a thud. The smell of fresh blood quickly filled the air. Aron slowly walked towards him, a cold look upon his young face. Mister Hex scrambled backwards, vainly trying to escape. He found himself backed against a wall. Aron loomed over him. He found himself enjoying the sight of the large man so frightened. Slowly, Aron raised the gun and pressed it against Mister Hex’s forehead. The man cringed, and seemed to draw in on himself, fresh tears beginning in his eyes as he felt the cold metal against his forehead.
    “Please…” He begged, sniffing. “Please don’t do this, I’ll do whatever you want. You can take my money or whatever, just please, don’t kill me!” Aron growled, before taking the gun back, and striking the man on his large nose with his other fist. Mister Hex yelped at the pain, and tried to shuffle back some more with no avail. “Shut up…” Was all Aron said before he returned the fire arm to the mans forehead. Mister Hex continued to cry, tears streaming from his eyes. “W-why?…” He spoke so lowly, so afraid. Aron found it pitiful.
    “Why? You want to know why?” Aron pressed the gun against is head harder, causing Mister Hex to squeak in fear. It was a rather strange sound for a bear to make. Arons tail lashed behind him furiously.
    “I bet Teddy asked that question so many times as you struck him as if he were a grown man! And what did you ever say to him?! What made his punishments just? Why did those blows have to be dealt? Because you felt like it?!” Mister Hex would soon feel another punch to his face, before the gun was placed back on his forehead again, more aggressively this time. Aron snarled viciously at him. “You don’t deserve an explanation…Besides, you never gave Teddy one, so, why should I give you one?” Mister Hex whimpered lowly, pitifully. Aron almost felt bad for saying what he said next.
    “And now, Mister Hex. I am going to kill you. Don’t worry, it wont hurt. I don’t miss…Goodbye.”

    Aron pulled the trigger, and the barrel pulsed. He felt the shake of the gun, as it fired. There was a blood curdling scream from Mister Hex, before, nothing….
    Aron frowned at the now motionless body of the man who used to be Teddy’s father. Aron reached up and wiped some of the blood spatter off of his face with the trench coat. Mister Hex’s lay still, a large bullet hole in his forehead. His eyes still looked frightened. They would be forever petrified like this. Blood streamed from the open wound in his head. Aron crouched down and, using two fingers to close the mans eyes. They would never open on their own again. Never again would this man raise a hand to strike at Teddy or his mother. No, never again. Aron had made sure of that… The fox slowly stepped away from the body, before sliding the gun back into the coat. He found it unsettling at how easily the trauma from killing a man seemed to fade… He felt no regrets, or remorse, for what he had done. ‘I did it for Teddy and his mom…They were helpless. I just did the right thing…I think..’ He was confused as to weather he could say what he had done was right. Either way you look it, he had killed a man. What made it worse was that he had done it in cold blood… ‘No…I am better then him…People like him have no place in this world…Not in my eyes, and in my heart, I know what I did was right. For Teddy and his mother…’ Aron slowly turned away from the corpse, the sound of police sirens ringing in the distance. It seemed as though the authority’s had already been notified about gun shots. Aron slowly walked into the bar, calmly, sitting at the counter. The bartender looked at him with a small frown. “You older than eighteen kid?” Aron sighed lowly, staring at the counter. “I have money sir. And besides that, the legal drinking age is twenty one. I’ll have a dry scotch.” The bartender sniffed contemptuously, before turning around and getting Aron’s drink. Aron picked it up and drunk, welcoming the buzz the alcohol gave him. He would also welcome the numbness it would bring him later. The man looked at him, quirking a brow. “What happened to your head?” Aron suddenly realized he had missed some of the blood. He slowly reached up and wiped it off with his jacket sleeve. He looked up at the man and a small smile appeared on his face.
    “I tripped.” The man sniffed again, before returning to cleaning glasses. Aron sat there in silence, drinking his scotch as the roaring of Police sirens drew closer in the distance.