Coccinellidae

There's a gun I could use to force my way out of here, unfortunately it's empty and I sure as hell wouldn't know how to bluff a turd into gold. Ain't much of a gambler and only played one game of poker since my day of birth. It had cost me a month's salary and a furious hurricane in the form of a woman. 

My woman. Ladybird. Never saw a lady so goddamn' good-lookin' and have such character that'll make you think twice on when to break another heartbeat. Her eyes are the color of a high noon sea, you'd drown in your mind if you stared in 'em too long. Her black hair'd convince you there was no god capable of ruining such a pretty sight. 

No god could, but man did. 

In his infinite stupidity man somehow sees himself fit to blood the rivers of beauty and strangle an earthbound angel, only to define the personality he needs to conquer a fictional world. His own. I have joined the brotherhood of stupidity and easily found a purpose to die. 
My vengeance never tasted sweet, but I cut off all hope of regaining any previous chance to live in grace, long ago. And now I can cut off all hope to die in grace as well. 

From behind the altar I stand up to meet the vendetta and take down to hell all greedy consumers of divine beauty. I don't feel the bullets, I don't feel the pain. I break a neck and stab a heart. Drain life from lives I do not care about. The light dissipates through the stained glass from behind the alter as I suddenly remember for no obvious reason some old nursery rhyme. I feel the cold iron barrel of the gun against the back of my neck. I do not shiver.

Ladybird, Ladybird, fly away home 

Your house is on fire and your children are gone

All except one… 

click.