him. It had hurt. It had
hurt. It had hurt. It still did hurt. It had been an awfully bitter
pill for Jack to swallow, and no matter how much he had tried to
swallow it deep, no matter how much Happy he took to block the
painful misery away, the pill came back and chocked him. If
ignorance was bliss, Jack should have been in heaven right now. He
knew after killing Eliza that this would be the case.
He turned onto
a quiet alley and passed what looked like a Requiem eating the
remains of some ex-mortal thing. The Requiem looked up at Jack with
a mouth full of blood and guts, dripping down its chin. Jack
paused, frozen with terror as the Requiem inspected him in its
dreamlike consciousness. He was just about to grab for his new
switchblade knife, when the Requiem turned its head back to the
remains of the feast before it.
Breathing a
large sigh of relief, Jack continued his hate rampage, wondering
why on earth the Requiem hadn’t attacked him. Jack had so far had
to kill five Requiem, if you could call it killing them. The
‘official’ term was disabling, although, that wasn’t really
official. It was just what everyone called it. Disabling their
movement by removing the head. Or making them practically useless
by damaging the legs.
The last time
he’d had to disable one had been a close call. He had been in bed
when one unexpectedly shattered its way through his flat’s window
and attacked him. It took several battered looking items from his
cutlery drawer and an ancient looking vase that had been on his
shelf for what seemed like an eternity to stop it. He then threw
the damn thing out of the broken window, where it landed and
continued to find life again and begin its attack of terror on
someone else.
How dare she?
How God damn dare she ditch him? How dare she even consider leaving
him? How could she? Why? Why? Why, why, why, why, why?
Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy!!?? His mind had fumed on the word why so
much, he had lost the meaning of it. It felt alien on his tongue,
as though the word had lost its meaning, as though the word was now
not of the land’s native language, but of gibberish made from the
figment of his imagination. It became the pinnacle of his hatred.
Why had she done this to him? Why!?
Off the lone
back alley and back onto a busy street. This one appeared more
chaotic than the last, Enforcers attempting to control the masses
surging angrily to the Leader’s large residence with their riot
shields, stun weapons and actual guns. Jack thought that there may
have been a day when people were proven guilty of breaking the law
before killed, as he saw a six year old girl’s brains get blasted
from hear head by a high speed bullet from the gun of an Enforcer.
He stared at the Enforcer who had committed such an appalling act
of heartlessness. He appeared not to have noticed; maybe he had
been aiming to shoot someone else. The amount of mistaken killings
of innocents before the riots and rebellions really began was what
Jack considered to be insane. So the amount now was clearly going
to be disastrous.
Six year old
female blood sprayed across his face. Jack closed his eyes and
heard the unmistakeable potato-sack thud of the girl’s corpse
hitting the ground. She had probably been on her way to the
education offices. What the selfish world was doing to children
infuriated Jack even more.
Surely a better
system of just instantaneous killing would be better, Jack
pondered, stepping over the child’s body and into the packed
street. Surely a system where you were held in an Enforcer cell for
a while whilst they gathered proof that you had committed such a
crime would reduce the number of unnecessary killings. Jack knew a
system like that was already in place, however it was only the
seriously wanted criminals who get to benefit from it. It was
something Jack found hard to believe, that Neo-Terrorists such as
that guy who liked to be known as the letter ‘J’, who killed many
of the lands citizens for no
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