As his senses were slowly returning to him, Philipp was looking around the room. It had dark wooden panels on the walls and a big piece of furniture containing several folders and books. In front of Philipp on the desk was a book with handwritten notes. There were names and monetary amounts listed next to them. But something was wrong, Philipp only had one right arm, and it didn’t look like his. A big green carpet was stretched out on the wooden floor in front of a big wooden desk, behind which a man was sitting leasurely filling out some forms. Once in a while he paused sipped brandy from a glass on the table. Philipp started feeling a great sense of hatred and fear towards this man. All he knew was that he must kill this man, that he simply has to kill ham no matter what.
Inside the room, we played out what happened in the dream. It went something like this:
On the far wall of the room there is a coat rack on which one leather coat has a gun in it. Philipp rises from his chair and walks over to it. He picks up the gun, a Walter PPK with a little SS symbol on the handle and loads a bullet into the barrel by keeping it between his knees while pulling back the handle with his hand. When hearing the sound of the barrel being pulled, the man looks up. Philipp is aiming at him.
Unfortunately for you, the gun is not loaded. Try jerking it up and down, you can tell by the weight.
Philipp pulls the trigger and a dry clicking sound is heard. Nothing happens.
Who are you? Philipp asks. The man looks startled.
I am Boris Poliakoff, your employer. Did you expect me to give a deeper answer than that?
Philipp tries to run, but his legs wont let him. Suddenly it is like a dream again. One of those where you can’t move from the spot, but it feels very real.
I know you’ve been wanting to kill me for the longest time. You’ve imagined yourself doing it any number of times, am I right? You have been waiting for the moment when I’d finally slip up and leave my gun – that you know I always keep loaded – somewhere within reach. And I thought I told you not to use your imagination too much on the job…
There’s a little pause. Boris smiles and opens a drawer from his desk and picks up something from it.
It doesn’t matter. There’s simply no way you could kill me anyway. I’ll give you a chance. This is no trick.
He opens his hand to reveal two cartridges.
These are live rounds. If you really want to kill me then this is your final chance. I’ll let you load these into my gun, take aim and fire. Remember you only have two chances. Do you want them?
Philipp nods. Boris throws the two shells towards Phillip. They land in front of him, and Boris watches with a smirk on his face as Phillip takes out the clip and tries to load the bullets into it, which is not easy with just one hand. He has to keep the clip between his knees while slowly squeezing in the shells without pushing the clip out from between his knees. All the while his hands are trembling nervously as Boris watches slowly.
Finally the clip is in place and Philipp takes aim. He pulls the trigger once and the sound is deafening. A clock on the wall behind boris is hit and pieces of glass fly everywhere as it falls to the ground. The bullet has passed right above Boris’ head.
Take steady aim now. It’s your last bullet.
Boris smirks and points to his forehead with one finger. Philipp aims the gun at Boris’ contemptuous demeaning smile once again and calmly squeezes the trigger. Another loud bang echoes throughout the room and plaster from the wall flies in all directions. Boris is unscathed. Philipp runs towards the door and tries to pull it open but he’s stuck; again he is unable to move.
Boris gets up from his chair and walks slowly towards Philipp.
There is simply no way you could have killed me. It’s not that your aim was off or that you’re a bad marksman. You’re just not qualified to kill me.
Boris extends a hand towards Philipp expecting to have his gun returned. Philipp does nothing. As Boris puts his hand on Philipps arm, Philipp tries to throw a punch at him. The dream ends…