Genocide - The Best Kind

A virus.

A sword.

A bomb.

A nuclear weapon.

Think.

I clean the eating utensils absent-mindedly, dreaming of ways I can kill every last stinking human being. My finger flies up into the air as I mentally draw out the list of features the form of death must have. I completely ignore the soapy liquid flying off my hands and concentrate.

It needs to:

Be painful.

Protect other creatures.

Be disastrous.

Protect the land, sea and skies.

Take long enough to let the fear sink in.

Wipe out as many landmarks left by the foul beings.

Help the-

A bell rings and knocks me out of my train of thought. How could someone be so inconsiderate? I growl quietly as I already know the answer.

Humans.

A high-pitched laugh flows from inside the restaurant and into the kitchen. I blink. There's something behind that laugh. Something different. Something...Disturbed. It's like listening to a madman after he's carried out some deranged plot.

I smile.

No. Wait. What?

My eyebrows furrow as I evaluate what just happened. I was plotting the death of the human race, only to be disturbed by a human, which annoyed me; I then create no punishment towards the human and yet something about it made me smile.

Something's gone horribly wrong.

I dash to the kitchen door and look around. The small diner is pretty empty compared to the usual Friday. I shudder. Fridays are normally the worst. They all pile into the tacky place and gather around the bar. Shouting drunkenly at each other, at the bartender, starting fights and falling on top of each other. In the end none of them will remember anything, and no one really had fun. It's just one of the many sights that drive me on to do what I do.

Today however seems to be different. There are only a select few standing around the bar, smiling, talking, being pretty quiet in general...

The sound of a high-pitched giggle floats through the air once again and my heart lifts. I blink again. What the hell is going on?

I follow the sound and soon see its owner. A scrawny blonde, dressed in a formal nylon jacket and skirt, sitting cross legged on a stool by the bar, throwing her head back as the manic laugh erupts once again. She's accompanied by a rather large woman, also dressed in a formal suit, with brown hair pulled back into a tight bun. Obviously a co-worker. Still, they're a very strange pair to be sitting together. I shrug it off. It's just another boozing bunch waiting for my cue to die.

I move to turn back to the kitchen when suddenly I notice something. The blonde woman is looking directly at me. Staring into my eyes with ones of stone. Niether eye blinks nor turns away.

No one looks at me.

Humans can't even do it when I'm serving them. Guess some sort of old animal habit tells them subconciously I'm dangerous. But this woman is still staring at me with eyes, trying to communicate with me. This woman knows something. This woman knows...me? I shake my head and go back to my duties. It's nearly the end of my shift anyway. I'll just have to follow her home.

Plunging my hands back into the sink of now cold water, I close my eyes and start to calm myself down. I start scrubbing the metal tools blindly. It's just my brain sending too many of the wrong chemicals into my system. That's all it is. A small blip.

I smile to myself and open my eyes. Everything's fine.

A white tissue with something scribbled across it is mysteriously sitting by the sink. It wasn't there before. I dry my hands on my disgusting striped shirt and pick the surviette up. Black eyeliner contrasts the white spread, reading just two words:

"Follow me."

* * * * *

The co-worker gags and shoves its hand over its mouth and nose. It soon figures out there's no way to block out the stench of death. Shame it won't have time to get used to it though. I'll soon see to that.

But for now, I'll just watch from my corner, shielded by the darkness as the strip-light on this side died out weeks ago.

I watch as the blonde bolts the door shut and expertly flicks all the locks to the closed position.

I watch as the blonde strides forcefully towards her co-worker.

Watching as the co-worker backs into the steel wall behind it.

I watch as the blonde reaches up and grabs a meat hook hanging from the ceiling.

I watch as she leans her hand on it, swinging playfully on its chain.

Watching as with a quick flash, the metal drives towards the co-worker's shoulder.

I watch as the hook digs into the shoulder blade, the sound of flesh being sliced spreading around the room.

I watch as the blonde walks back and grabs another hook.

Watching as she runs at the co-worker with it, digging it into its right shoulder blade.

I watch as the blonde finds the opposite ends of the chains.

I watch as she heaves on the chains, dragging the co-worker into the air.

Watching as the smile on her face widens with the ever increasing screams from the co-worker.

"I do this as a sacrifice towards our savior. A sign of my appreciation."

I watch as she stares directly through the darkness and into my eyes.

I watch as more chemicals flood my system.

Watching as I calculate my next move.