Genocide - The Best Kind
Chapter 11
My heart swells and fills my mouth with a gory grin, penetrating the darkening sky with a screaming glee. This is what my life is about. This is what I'm here for.
I bring my knee up to my chest, breathing in deeply. Wait for it...
The soon-to-be corpse's eyes slowly come to focus and stare at the black boot raised above them. They dilate as fear strikes their heart and... SMACK
One kick.
Knee up. Breathe in.
SMACK.
Second Kick.
A scream. Blood starts to appear.
SMACK.
Hands raised to protect face.
SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.
I laugh with every hit, the sound bouncing through the cold desolate atmosphere of the residential area. Trying to control the laughter, I bend down and grab the sweaty, blood speckled hand of the body, and start dragging it over to the neat pile I began this morning.
Sweat is still pouring down my neck; working so hard all through the day and the adrenaline running through my veins from such a wreckless task is too much for one human body to cope. Damn my inability to separate myself from the rest.
I scoff.
"'Inability to separate myself from the rest'! Ha!" I spit.
"What a joke! But I tell you Savior, there's one person who I don't think can separate themselves from the rest," I stand upright and rub the crook of my back. "that bloody Camilla girl. If you're the only one who knows what to do, then what the hell is she doing, eh? You really haven't thought that through there, have you?"
I shake my head.
"No," I sigh. "that I haven't. She's come through though hasn't she?" My eyes scan the area.
"That's not the point," They spot a shovel stood against a wall. "Have you not stopped to think what she could possibly gain out of this? You know what you have to do in the end, but does she? She might have other plans..."
My feet automatically walk over to the metal topped tool. "What do you mean 'other plans'?" I grab the handle.
"What I mean is," thwack "She doesn't know you're gonna kill-" thwack "every-" thwack "human. She probably thinks you're gonna do some weird Hilter shit and start 'the perfect race'" I turn the shovel so its head faces the head of the bloody body now lying, whimpering, on the ground.
"You don't really think she thinks that do you?" I push roughly on the handle and watch as the sharp edge dives through the flesh, splitting the supposedly 'tough' oesophagus below. "Oh who cares? As long as she gets those negotiations with America and Russia going, the world will be damned anyway. If she can get that done, who cares what she thinks?"
"But what if you fall in love with this woman Saviour? What will you do then?" The eery voice that spills out of my mouth makes me stop eyeing an old man trying desperately to run way in fear across the yard.
"Love? But I couldn't possibly...."
"It's happened before. You know you're not as different as you like to believe."
I fall silent and drop the shovel.
"Get rid of the girl."
I bring my knee up to my chest, breathing in deeply. Wait for it...
The soon-to-be corpse's eyes slowly come to focus and stare at the black boot raised above them. They dilate as fear strikes their heart and... SMACK
One kick.
Knee up. Breathe in.
SMACK.
Second Kick.
A scream. Blood starts to appear.
SMACK.
Hands raised to protect face.
SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.
I laugh with every hit, the sound bouncing through the cold desolate atmosphere of the residential area. Trying to control the laughter, I bend down and grab the sweaty, blood speckled hand of the body, and start dragging it over to the neat pile I began this morning.
Sweat is still pouring down my neck; working so hard all through the day and the adrenaline running through my veins from such a wreckless task is too much for one human body to cope. Damn my inability to separate myself from the rest.
I scoff.
"'Inability to separate myself from the rest'! Ha!" I spit.
"What a joke! But I tell you Savior, there's one person who I don't think can separate themselves from the rest," I stand upright and rub the crook of my back. "that bloody Camilla girl. If you're the only one who knows what to do, then what the hell is she doing, eh? You really haven't thought that through there, have you?"
I shake my head.
"No," I sigh. "that I haven't. She's come through though hasn't she?" My eyes scan the area.
"That's not the point," They spot a shovel stood against a wall. "Have you not stopped to think what she could possibly gain out of this? You know what you have to do in the end, but does she? She might have other plans..."
My feet automatically walk over to the metal topped tool. "What do you mean 'other plans'?" I grab the handle.
"What I mean is," thwack "She doesn't know you're gonna kill-" thwack "every-" thwack "human. She probably thinks you're gonna do some weird Hilter shit and start 'the perfect race'" I turn the shovel so its head faces the head of the bloody body now lying, whimpering, on the ground.
"You don't really think she thinks that do you?" I push roughly on the handle and watch as the sharp edge dives through the flesh, splitting the supposedly 'tough' oesophagus below. "Oh who cares? As long as she gets those negotiations with America and Russia going, the world will be damned anyway. If she can get that done, who cares what she thinks?"
"But what if you fall in love with this woman Saviour? What will you do then?" The eery voice that spills out of my mouth makes me stop eyeing an old man trying desperately to run way in fear across the yard.
"Love? But I couldn't possibly...."
"It's happened before. You know you're not as different as you like to believe."
I fall silent and drop the shovel.
"Get rid of the girl."
♠ ♠ ♠
Right, so unsure of how easy to understand this is, but I thought I'd give the newly named 'Saviour' a little more depth, no?So sorry for the lack of update in FSM knows how long, but GCSE year, and so much coursework to do lately it's unbelievable. That plus a tonne of social things of course -shifty eyes-
Hope you like it...^.^,