The movie played on as people gagged on tear gas and shotgun blasts tore into flesh.
But despite all the pandemonium, Pierce O’Farrill says he could hear the gunman’s footsteps — slow, methodical and menacing.
“It was just an absolutely dark, evil presence,” O’Farrill recalled from his bed at University of Colorado Hospital on Wednesday.
O’Farrill, who works for the Denver Rescue Mission, sat in about the third row, one seat from the aisle — near the emergency exit the assailant came through wearing body armor and a gas mask, and armed with a shotgun, a 40-caliber Glock and an assault-style rifle. He saw the man throw a canister of tear gas. It flew across the screen.
“I saw him pull a shotgun out, and he held it at his waist, and he opened fire,” O’Farrill said.
O’Farrill took a shotgun blast to his left toes and shotgun pellets sprayed his chest. “I just felt like it blew my toes off,” he said.
His friend, Carey Rottman, took a shot from the Glock above the knee in his quadriceps. “Pierce, I’m shot, ” Rottman cried out. “I’m shot. I’m shot.”
O’Farrill dived to the ground and curled into a fetal position, intense pain gripping him, as he put his arms around his head. Then he took a bullet from the Glock that fractured his humerus, sending waves of agony through his body. A blast from the rifle hit near his small toe.
“The entire left side of my body from the waist up was in agonizing pain,” O’Farrill said.
As O’Farrill stayed on the ground, arms around himself, blood began to pool around his head and flow into his mouth.
Then the shooting stopped.
Rottman realized there was time to make an escape. He shook his friend, and they began to make their way toward the exit. But the pain was so intense that O’Farrill could go only a few steps.
“My strength just left me, and I collapsed on the floor,” O’Farrill said.
Unable to help his friend, Rottman fled to safety.
Moments passed, and O’Farrill realized the gunman was nearby.
“My thoughts were swirling at that point,” O’Farrill said. “A part of me was thinking I was going to die right there. He was standing just over me. I could feel his shadow, his presence over me. I could feel his boot just inches from my eye. He was standing right over me. I closed my eyes and thought that was it. I thought he was going to put a gun to my head and finish me off.”
Deeply religious, O’Farrill felt at peace. He was ready. Then he thought of his brother, Andru. He didn’t want his brother to blame God for his death.
Suddenly, the man stopped firing. He just walked away.
“I could feel that dark presence leave,” O’Farrill said. “At that point, I believe his gun jammed.
“Honestly, I believe at that moment, God made his presence known. I could feel the darkness leave and the light and the hope come in.”
All around him were the wounded, people frantically using their cellphones to call 911.
Police arrived and began to help the wounded.
As he left the theater, all O’Farrill could think of was Andru— and calling him to let him know he had been shot. His brother was in Boston, his cellphone set to silent, but he saw the phone light up.
“I honestly thought I was going to die because the pain was so bad,” O’Farrill recalled. “I wanted him to know I loved him, and that I was at peace, and if God was calling me home, I was ready to go.”
O’Farrill, scheduled to be released from the hospital later Wednesday, now walks with a crutch but is expected to make a full recovery. The gunshot to the arm shattered the bone but missed the arteries and veins. He can make a fist now, although there are pins and a rod stabilizing the arm.
“I just want to tell my story,” O’Farrill said. “I want people to know that although the darkness is very real, the light shines bright, and the light will always win, and the light has won.”
Christopher N. Osher: 303-954-1747, cosher@denverpost.com or twitter.com/chrisosher
