Whisper to the Sky One Final Prayer
THE OLD APARTMENTS
Just after midnight, Day 12
I'm walking out of town, back to the decaying apartment complex that serves as home. The firestorm of anger flares hotter as I walk past the Tavern of Hell. Even all these hours later, the anger is a blaze. It's a different kind of fire, though. It has had time to seep through me, to blacken, to become viral. I need a release. I have to do something to extinguish the anger and regain my focus.
Out on the road, I meet a very tired and slightly buzzed man, wandering. He's incoherent mostly. All I get from him is, “I'm trying to find home. Gotta sleep. Gotta sleep.” I offer to take him to the apartments. There are plenty of spare rooms and a few of them even have beds left. I really hope this guy is just a drifter.
I take him into the apartment building and almost feel bad that he's so gullible. Almost. The room we're in is missing most of one wall and half its ceiling. There is enough light from the moon for me to see the hook lying on the floor. The chain attached to it rises up to the ceiling, disappearing into the shadows. The other end of it is coiled on the floor a few feet away.
The man, Jerry, asks why we're in this shitty little room. He sees my fist too late. The punch catches him on the side of the neck and he collapses to the ground, groaning.
“Get up,” I say quietly. He pushes himself to his feet, protesting. I hit him again, this time on the collar bone. The blow staggers him against the wall and he curses at me. He comes at me, swinging both fists. I block one, take the other in the chest, and slam him back against the wall. The drywall cracks and crumbles. He falls to the floor again and coughs. Now, I'm ready.
Picking the handcuffs off the ground, I clamp them down too tightly and he cries out as the metal cuts into his wrists. I slip the handcuffs over the hook and grab the end coil of the chain. I pull hard, hearing the chain slide through the pulley above me in the dark. Jerry lifts off the ground as I tug the chain down hand-over-hand. I secure the chain to the tent spike I drove into the cement floor.
Despite the cool air tonight, sweat rolls down my back and I'm beginning to feel overheated. I pull my shirt over my head and toss it to the side. I step up to Jerry, his feet dangling six inches off the ground, and, with my fist, strike him hard in the ribs. The anger has already started to simmer down, but I will see this through to the end to regain complete control.
==================================================
After thirty minutes of treating Jerry's torso as a punching bag, I release the cable and let gravity take him to the ground. There's blood on his lips. His sternum and nearly all of his ribs are shattered. I sit down against a crumbling wall and light a clove, watching Jerry breathing in raspy gasps. He struggles up to his feet and I'm shocked he has the strength. Stumbling to the doorway, he coughs and I think I see blood fly to the ground. He's out the doorway before I stand. I pull Tempest from where she's sleeping in the waistband of my jeans at the small of my back.
[OPEN to Karina]
[WARNING!!! Bloody, violent behavior ahead]
CLOSED
Just after midnight, Day 12
I'm walking out of town, back to the decaying apartment complex that serves as home. The firestorm of anger flares hotter as I walk past the Tavern of Hell. Even all these hours later, the anger is a blaze. It's a different kind of fire, though. It has had time to seep through me, to blacken, to become viral. I need a release. I have to do something to extinguish the anger and regain my focus.
Out on the road, I meet a very tired and slightly buzzed man, wandering. He's incoherent mostly. All I get from him is, “I'm trying to find home. Gotta sleep. Gotta sleep.” I offer to take him to the apartments. There are plenty of spare rooms and a few of them even have beds left. I really hope this guy is just a drifter.
I take him into the apartment building and almost feel bad that he's so gullible. Almost. The room we're in is missing most of one wall and half its ceiling. There is enough light from the moon for me to see the hook lying on the floor. The chain attached to it rises up to the ceiling, disappearing into the shadows. The other end of it is coiled on the floor a few feet away.
The man, Jerry, asks why we're in this shitty little room. He sees my fist too late. The punch catches him on the side of the neck and he collapses to the ground, groaning.
“Get up,” I say quietly. He pushes himself to his feet, protesting. I hit him again, this time on the collar bone. The blow staggers him against the wall and he curses at me. He comes at me, swinging both fists. I block one, take the other in the chest, and slam him back against the wall. The drywall cracks and crumbles. He falls to the floor again and coughs. Now, I'm ready.
Picking the handcuffs off the ground, I clamp them down too tightly and he cries out as the metal cuts into his wrists. I slip the handcuffs over the hook and grab the end coil of the chain. I pull hard, hearing the chain slide through the pulley above me in the dark. Jerry lifts off the ground as I tug the chain down hand-over-hand. I secure the chain to the tent spike I drove into the cement floor.
Despite the cool air tonight, sweat rolls down my back and I'm beginning to feel overheated. I pull my shirt over my head and toss it to the side. I step up to Jerry, his feet dangling six inches off the ground, and, with my fist, strike him hard in the ribs. The anger has already started to simmer down, but I will see this through to the end to regain complete control.
==================================================
After thirty minutes of treating Jerry's torso as a punching bag, I release the cable and let gravity take him to the ground. There's blood on his lips. His sternum and nearly all of his ribs are shattered. I sit down against a crumbling wall and light a clove, watching Jerry breathing in raspy gasps. He struggles up to his feet and I'm shocked he has the strength. Stumbling to the doorway, he coughs and I think I see blood fly to the ground. He's out the doorway before I stand. I pull Tempest from where she's sleeping in the waistband of my jeans at the small of my back.
[OPEN to Karina]
[WARNING!!! Bloody, violent behavior ahead]
CLOSED