[ WP ] A hero and a villain team up to get revenge on a common enemy . The hero turns out to be much more devious than the villain .

My eyes opened, despite having closed for the last time. Through all the white light, I could see the same man that shot me standing above me, offering me his hand. When I walked into that store, I believed it to be an ordinary day, just grabbing some routine groceries, but as I went to pay, things changed. The man in front, the same one now helping me to my feet, pulled a gun on the clerk and demanded for whatever was in the register. I don ’ t know what kind of nerves this guy had, but as soon as I tried to leave the store, he lost it. He started screaming about how he was going to shoot someone, and I just wanted to get the hell out of there, so I opened the door. All of a sudden, his trigger finger must have been real itchy, because I had three bullets in my back and blood across my shirt. He didn ’ t seem so bad now, though. The pain in my back was gone, and he was smiling at me. 
 
 He sat me down and said that I should hear him out. Apparently, he had been here before, at the crossroads between life and death. He said there would be someone along shortly to speak with us. Next thing I knew, a woman in all white strolled into view. More talking followed, and I started to get an idea. 
 
 Now, this woman said that based on our virtuous deeds in life, we were granted things. Wishes for the wholehearted, and small gifts for the meek. Nothing but death for those who were vile, though. The man I was with told me he was close to death once, and had a wish in store, which he used to see light once again and hold his daughter close to him. Now, though, he was caught dead by the police in an armed robbery with a murder on his hands. He wasn ’ t going anywhere but down, even though he seemed plenty nice now. 
 
 I had a wish and a gift, according to this woman. They were mine to do with as I pleased. My killer begged me to use the gift for him, and offer him one more chance to repent. I had other ideas, though. 
 
 I whispered in the woman ’ s ear, she nodded solemnly, and I closed my eyes. The world spun back into view, and my back was fiery with pain. I had used my wish to come back, just as the other man had. I looked over, and the shooter was sprawled on the floor, barely breathing. Good. He had this coming. 
 
 The news reports weeks later finally declared him dead, after almost a month of suffering in intensive care. Perfect. I sat at home recovering, and he sat there, dying slowly, as he should. Wicked people deserved nothing but pain, and I swore on my life that I would cause that man as much torture as I could before he passed. The gift I gave to him, I knew that it went through. Alive enough to feel pain, but dead to anyone that knew him, just as any criminal ought to be.
