As I was walking through the halls of a high-rise office building, I encountered several men standing outside one of the office doors and pointing guns inside. The men were plain-clothed, but appeared to be police officers. I stepped up to the door and looked inside. The room was crowded with perhaps 50 people sitting in chairs and looking at a man standing and holding a gun on a stage at the front of the room,

The man appeared to be Latino; he had black hair and was probably about 30 years old. He had already shot two or three people who were lying in front of the stage and he was preparing to shoot more. The police began shooting at him through the open door, but they were nervous and couldn't hit him. They even seemed afraid to shoot. The situation was grim. I stepped up to one of the officers and asked for his gun. Without hesitation he handed it to me. I took careful aim at the head of the man on stage and fired – but I missed. I fired twice more and twice again I missed. Another officer handed me a double-barreled shotgun which I aimed at the man. I fired the first barrel and yet again I missed. The man on the stage seemed to be growing more defiant. He was aware I was shooting at him but he made no attempt to flee. I fired the other barrel.

The second shot hit him and he fell to the ground. We all rushed in and the people inside rushed out. A few remained. I went to the man. I had hit him in the face. He was severely injured but still alive. I didn't know what to do with him. A man in a light-gray trench coat walked into the room. He was only about 1.3 meters tall and looked like a child. I had met him before. His name was Tim and I said hello to him. I asked him if he were the detective on the case and he said he was. He wasn't friendly. He asked me why I hadn't called an ambulance or a hospital. I exploded that I didn't know what to do – this wasn't my job. I had never shot anyone before. A woman who had remained in the room took up my defense and told the man I had done a good job. I told Tim he could take the case now, I was leaving. I hurried out of the room.

I walked through the halls. I thought I would at least try to notify a hospital. I thought Baylor hospital was located on this floor. I saw a couple women who might know, but I didn't ask them. Then I saw a woman and approached her. She listened then started backing away until she down backwards. I began trying to help her, even though I didn't know what was wrong with her.

As I knelt beside her, I began thinking that everything that was happening seemed like a story which I could write down. I might even be able to make a movie out of it – a detective movie. Maybe I would even start writing detective movies. I might also write some super hero movies. Maybe I could even somehow interrelate the two genres.