Genocide - The Best Kind
Chapter 7
"Let's get down to the basics," I say to the blonde as her hair whips my face. "Who are you?"
She merely shakes her head and keeps walking at a fast pace. I follow closely behind, amused by the fact she looks both ways before crossing the road; it just seems strange coming from a woman so strong, so entertained by pain, that I have to restrain myself from smiling. I then frown, realising she hadn't answered my question.
"You expect me to watch as you tear a co-worker apart as if it's made out of lego, without telling me who the hell you are and how you know who I am, and then follow you to an undisclosed location where you can do God knows what?"
I blink, utterly confused when I had finished my question. Firstly, I used a reference to the human safety blanket, 'God'; and secondly, I sounded so... afraid. My voice never quivered, nor rose above its normal pitch, but to my surprise you could sense fear coming from inside of me. I haven't felt like this for a long time. Felt so belittled. Felt so out of place. This woman is doing things to me I would never have imagined.
Man, she's good.
"Yes, that is exactly what I expect you to do. And if you want answers then you'll shut up until we get there."
I grunt in return.
After a few blocks we turn into a long, winding road, packed with posh houses and cars, and as I look around the fancy street, rage starts to build within me once again. Everything reminds me of how selfish human beings can be.
The houses stand at least three stories high, with evident basements below; large, perfectly trimmed, green gardens spread out in front, boasting exotic flowers, trees and plants. Each one a monument of self-importance standing individually from another, keeping at least 200 yards distance from their neighbour. Every one of these houses would have taken longer, would have used more resources, would have used more money to build than any others. This is a street for the ignorant.
I open my mouth to ask why we're in such a place, when I quickly remember to be quiet. It's not as if I'm scared of her, I'm just scared of... Well... Actually, I don't know.
I shudder. I don't know something. And it's going to drive me insane.
After passing a lot of curtain twitching houses, we finally walk up to a grand, modern looking house. As we stand on the porch, the blonde pulls out a small, metal key fob and waves it in front of a sensor by the door. A short buzzing sound tells us that it's now okay for us to go in and she heaves open the heavy, oak doors, stepping aside to let me go through.
"Wipe your feet!" She screeches at me as I raise my foot to walk off the mat.
I look at her like a rabbit caught in the headlights and lower my foot, starting to shuffle both feet to scrape the remnants of the street off my shoes. Finishing this, I look up at her again for permission to move, and she smiles kindly, waving her hand to point to the lounge.
Cautiously, I move in the direction of her hand and around the corner, anticipating another command to be thrown at me. When none comes, I edge my way to the stripy green couch, and sit down. I furrow my eyebrows and stare shocked at the floor. My heartbeat is racing, and I can feel cold sweat forming on the back of my neck.
How does she do that?
She merely shakes her head and keeps walking at a fast pace. I follow closely behind, amused by the fact she looks both ways before crossing the road; it just seems strange coming from a woman so strong, so entertained by pain, that I have to restrain myself from smiling. I then frown, realising she hadn't answered my question.
"You expect me to watch as you tear a co-worker apart as if it's made out of lego, without telling me who the hell you are and how you know who I am, and then follow you to an undisclosed location where you can do God knows what?"
I blink, utterly confused when I had finished my question. Firstly, I used a reference to the human safety blanket, 'God'; and secondly, I sounded so... afraid. My voice never quivered, nor rose above its normal pitch, but to my surprise you could sense fear coming from inside of me. I haven't felt like this for a long time. Felt so belittled. Felt so out of place. This woman is doing things to me I would never have imagined.
Man, she's good.
"Yes, that is exactly what I expect you to do. And if you want answers then you'll shut up until we get there."
I grunt in return.
After a few blocks we turn into a long, winding road, packed with posh houses and cars, and as I look around the fancy street, rage starts to build within me once again. Everything reminds me of how selfish human beings can be.
The houses stand at least three stories high, with evident basements below; large, perfectly trimmed, green gardens spread out in front, boasting exotic flowers, trees and plants. Each one a monument of self-importance standing individually from another, keeping at least 200 yards distance from their neighbour. Every one of these houses would have taken longer, would have used more resources, would have used more money to build than any others. This is a street for the ignorant.
I open my mouth to ask why we're in such a place, when I quickly remember to be quiet. It's not as if I'm scared of her, I'm just scared of... Well... Actually, I don't know.
I shudder. I don't know something. And it's going to drive me insane.
After passing a lot of curtain twitching houses, we finally walk up to a grand, modern looking house. As we stand on the porch, the blonde pulls out a small, metal key fob and waves it in front of a sensor by the door. A short buzzing sound tells us that it's now okay for us to go in and she heaves open the heavy, oak doors, stepping aside to let me go through.
"Wipe your feet!" She screeches at me as I raise my foot to walk off the mat.
I look at her like a rabbit caught in the headlights and lower my foot, starting to shuffle both feet to scrape the remnants of the street off my shoes. Finishing this, I look up at her again for permission to move, and she smiles kindly, waving her hand to point to the lounge.
Cautiously, I move in the direction of her hand and around the corner, anticipating another command to be thrown at me. When none comes, I edge my way to the stripy green couch, and sit down. I furrow my eyebrows and stare shocked at the floor. My heartbeat is racing, and I can feel cold sweat forming on the back of my neck.
How does she do that?
♠ ♠ ♠
I think this was too descriptive, and not a lot really happened, but bare with me?I'm just not too sure how to do this, if you've read my journal about why this is so late, you would know I'm all about the killing scenes; the plotline....iiis less important in my eyes. So I'm trying to get it out the way.
You subscribers rule!