cypress △ d7 fin

"Hey, kid, let's you and me make a deal!"

I dangle the bag in front of his face, the promise of candy making his eyes light up like a damned Christmas tree. So easy, too easy. And yet I let the toothy grin consume me. Stupid children. You'd think someone would teach them not to take "candy" from strangers.

"This bag for one little favor? Whatcha say, kid? Simple as that."

He nods, reaching for the bag with chubby, eager fingers. Disgusting, really. Gloves are necessary for more than just covering up evidence when working with children. Do they ever clean themselves?

I waggle my finger at him, moving the bag out of reach.

"Shake on it."

And as his palm sticks to my leather gloves, I feel a heat radiate through my hand and up my arm. It's as if we had sealed the deal with fire, his fate sold to me like a soul to the devil. I'm thankful for my shades or else he may have seen the glint of deviance in my eye.

"Atta boy!" I chuckle, tossing him the bag. He unravels the string in front of me, plunging his hand into the bag without even the slightest glance at the contents held within. The smile on his face once so obnoxiously bright slowly shifts into something like pure terror, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

I laugh.

"What is it, kid? It's a prize! Enjoy it!"

He drops the cat's head and it bounces and rolls to my feet. He stumbles backwards over a tree limb, his chubby little arms and legs too frightened to move. I chuckle again, letting the cats head—"You called her Socks, right, kid?"—crunch and ooze under the heal of my boot. And though I was silently hoping for a scream, the silence that follows is just as satisfying.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" I pause before I get to him, taking the time to enjoy my own joke.

As the kid tries to run, I yank at the collar of his shirt and pull him to the ground. With one swift and calculated movement I pull my lighter from my pocket, holding the flame close to his face. Sweat glistens on his skin, tears drip down the sides of his face.

"Where do you think you're going, kid? We made a deal," I growl at him, making him whine. I stand and press my boot to his throat to keep him still. I straighten, pulling the tablespoon from my jacket and holding the flame to the metal, waiting patiently for it to glow red. The cat's blood drips down the sides of his neck.

"The bag," I grin, as he begins to squirm more vehemently. I let my weight fall heavier against his neck. "For a small favor."

The glow of the spoon and the smell of hot metal makes me shiver. Oh how great it feels to be back! I've spent too long in a cramped, dirty cell with peasant rebels. I take a deep breath and lean in close, holding my free hand over his mouth. Oh how I've missed the sizzle of flesh, the scent of fear. I groan in anticipation as his eyes glow under the red hot light of the spoon.

"The bag for your eye. Simple as that."

His muffled screams make me laugh.

"Damn! Pain is hilarious!"

---

Apparently turning children into corpses without the pretense of a game the government runs is frowned upon? Whispering sweet nothings in their ears as they toss and turn in their sleep is apparently warrant for arrest and 3 years in the Detention Center. Three long years having to deal with petty thieves and idiot rebels—though I will admit listening to them scream brought me a bit of entertainment.

I escaped during the riots of course. All that madness? EXHILARATING! I really couldn't have drawn it up better myself. Thousands of prisoners poured into the woods on that fateful day and I certainly wasn't about to stay in that dump any longer. Had I really deserved to be put in there anyway? I was only having a bit of fun after all.

Of course there are a few worthless flesh bags in this world that don't understand the meaning. A few who seem to think they can stab me in the back and get away with it.

I wouldn't say he was ever a friend, merely a pawn like the rest. But a very useful pawn. A very fun pawn. With strings attached to his skin—strings under my control, invisible strings I had skillfully stitched into his pale flesh when he wasn't looking—I made him dance for me. A puppet under my control, he did my bidding while I enjoyed deceiving him. Together we made deals—little did he know he was staring into the eyes of the devil.

He turned me over to the Peacekeepers thinking I wouldn't know. It's funny how dumb humans are.

He's got small humans that he cares about now. They've got big dreams, but little do they know they're all part of the plan. My plan. I call it chaos. And I simply can't wait to make them the pawns that tear the universe into pieces. That'll teach they're halfwit, useless piece of trash uncle to fuck with me. He thought I was a mad man before? Can't wait to show him what I've really got in store.

So let's have some fun, shall we?

[ illuminati ]