Mark — Rebel — Implication

“It was you!!!” shouted the voice across the crowded room.
The implication cut through the noisy space like armour piercing rounds. Heads turned in my direction, as told to by the accuser’s pointed finger.
I took a sip of my drink, holding his gaze. A rebel in his own right, there was no need to be drawn down to his level. Keep calm, buy time.
“Have you nothing to say?! Has your tongue swelled with the truth of my words?!” Mark, had a tendency to fill a silent void. Let him. It would lead to him bringing about his own downfall.
“Ha! Here stands the public knight, elevated by his popularity, his commonness!” He looked around the room, trying to whip up those who caught his eye. Manipulating them with pure blunt words that held no decorum.
“What say you, MAN?” He spat the words at me, after not finding the support he was looking for.
I turned slightly, facing him square on. A gap had appeared between the crowds, creating a duelling lane, with many a bystander lining the boundary.
The smoke from my gun disturbed my view, but I knew the bullet had taken him in-between the eyes.
The crowd reacted; it moved and twisted. Shock rippled throughout. Some stared at the body, as if still hearing the dull thud as it hit the floor.
“Poor fool” came a hushed female voice.
“I know,” I said.
“Not him… you.”
