Fredrick and the 10 dogs part 6
"there is so much work to be done, and so much to learn, and so much to achieve. I don't feel lost, I don't feel alone, I don't feel invincible, and I don't feel scared. I still don't quite feel direction, but I'm starting to think that looking for direction doesn't help you get on path, it just keeps you looking. I remember driving to places with no directions and finding the destination regardless. This is no different. There's so much more to look forward to. I only hope I don't leave to many people behind in pain, that's never been the goal, nor will it be."
or
"let's define the dues ex machina a little more clearly"
"why are you doing this, who are you, what are you?"
"well, I'm a dog, I thought that'd be obvious to you"
"dogs don't talk, or call themselves a pack of 10 without actually being in a pack"
"well, that can't be entirely true now can it?"
"my guess is that you're from hell"
"incorrect"
"then another planet?"
"does it really matter?"
"apparently not, but why the killing. And if your overall goal is to kill as many people as you can, then why only 10 dogs, why not cause more havoc by being other creatures, using nuclear weapons, poisoning water supplies? why not something bigger. Don't you think 10 dogs is a little pathetic by evil standards?"
"who is to say evil is anything less then pathetic, that's for you to interpret, that's for everyone to interpret for themselves."
"well people these days and most days are prone to fear, but still, 10 is a pathetic number"
"look, I don't have to be the evil scientist who goes into the detail about the butterfly effect or some other bullshit like that. We all know that a drop in a bucket of water makes ripples. If there was only one of us, and we only managed to kill a few people before being put down we'd still have made our impact"
"so you're going for a ripple effect. Are the people you're killing of any significance to your plan?"
"you make it sound to well choreographed. These people aren't significant to us, but they're significant to the people close to them, a single death throws a wrench in the gears of so many people. Some never recover. You should know that well enough given your fathers death and all"
"oh, so you're omniscient evil as shit talking dogs then"
"I don't know if you're in a place to call us evil. You're a killer to, and you haven't been treating people all that well since you've been hunting us down, us poor little animals, just doing as nature tells us to"
"he deserved it, every bit of it"
"well so did the little girl I tore to pieces. She had some negative thoughts about her family, and can you believe she once pushed a cat off a high table?"
"I am not one of you, I am not purely sinister, I am not purely evil, I am not out killing for fun.."
"oh, killing for purpose is the way to go then, I see. Well I'll just buy an appointment book and then we should really have nothing to quarrel about"
"you don't kill anyone, I accept that my life is over, I accept what I've done, I accept that I've been losing my damn mind since this started"
"well, if you're losing your mind then this all makes sense. I'm a figment of your imagination. After all, dogs can't talk"
"well you can, and lord knows, if your goal is solely to affect people negatively, then my goal is put an end to you, cause it's one form of negative bullshit I can control, I can take care of"
"well then what are we waiting for, you've got it all carved out in black and white, I'm bad, you're good, it's all defined, lets' have at it shall we?"
"it will be a pleasure to kill you"
"it's been a pleasure to meet such a fool"
"well if you're whole thing is impact.."
and before I could finish my sentence, which to me would've been as close to an "hasta la vista" or an "I'll be back" as I could've ever hoped for he lunged at me. Straight forward, no fancy darting no nothing, just a huge forceful leap.
my reflexes were top notch and I brought the crowbar right down on his head. With one loud splatter it seemed as if the deed was done. He lay on the ground panting and bleeding from his head, and I took to bashing in his left leg with short choppy swings.
"ahhh, here you go with the leg breaking routine. This is kind of your trademark isn't it. A calling card of sorts" he growled through his bloody fangs
"I hadn't even thought of it as a stylistic thing. I guess old habits die hard, but I suppose if I have 8 more to go I should mix it up"
"and how many more criminals are you going to personally put to justice while you're out hunting your dogs? what if she was lying?"
I wailed on his whole body for a minute. Blood, screaming, growling, tearing or flesh and bodily organs.
I knelt down by his ear.
"listen up lassie, everyone gets their justice dealt to them in due time. I will get mine. Just as you will get yours. And if this is all made up in my head, then I can end it anytime can't I? huh? I'll take that as a yes. If that's the case, then we all know how stories end right? When times get tough the deus ex machina comes down and saves everyone. Well my machine of god is this crowbar and it has saved how many people, or drops of water as you think of them?"
"you're rambling, but for the record, that crowbar is not much of a machine"
"its machine enough for me"
"well speaking of machines of god, here's mine"
And from out behind me it came. Jaws locked into my back and I was hit hard.
I can't remember a lot of details of this point. It's hard to describe feeling every bit afraid, and every bit in agony while having every bit of adrenaline, piss, anger and venom run through you all at once.
Apparently it wasn't my time, but the clock was held down in front of my face for awhile.
a blur of the order of events rushes through. I was dragged, there was no more crowbar, there were new teeth marks and scratches added to my body every few seconds. There was a struggle, I forgot that they didn't play fair, I thought about sex for a second and how I might never experience it again. Life never flashed before my eyes, but mud and blackness and blood did.
Why the dog never went in for an exceptionally critical hit is beyond me. Maybe he wanted to play with me a little more, maybe I was doing all the right things defensive wise, maybe he was an awful killing dog. There was no deus ex machina, but I think there was a lucky flailing arm that happen to punch the dog in the genitalia of god, cause for a brief second I had the opportunity to spin around and take control of the situation, and I did.
I never knew how destructive I could be. I don't think I got off on gouging the dogs eyes out, or the sound of its yelping even after I had ripped its tongue out. You couldn't blame me for a little hysterical yelling as I started to fully realize how cut up my back was and how much pain I was in while I rung my hands around the dogs neck and dragged it to the ground, cursing, telling it how bad a dog it was and how I had to take it for a walk.
Dragging it back to where its friend was I started to lose steam. My body started to feel like it was going in shock. Tears rolling down my face, piss rolling down my leg. It was everything short of a kodak moment.
even though the dogs weren't in much of a position to remain alive for much longer I took it upon myself to retrieve the crowbar and pound away at their bodies with everything I had left in me for what felt like hours.
It occurred to me as I fell to my knees in front of piles of dog bones and guts how there might be a third one waiting. Maybe all the rest of them watching me. I tried to ration that they'd have already attacked me if such was the case, but either way my body was shutting down and I was falling into the mess I had made and I was going to close my eyes and pass out.
clearly the god machine was malfunctioning, or I had lost my usage privileges somewhere along the way.
or
"let's define the dues ex machina a little more clearly"
"why are you doing this, who are you, what are you?"
"well, I'm a dog, I thought that'd be obvious to you"
"dogs don't talk, or call themselves a pack of 10 without actually being in a pack"
"well, that can't be entirely true now can it?"
"my guess is that you're from hell"
"incorrect"
"then another planet?"
"does it really matter?"
"apparently not, but why the killing. And if your overall goal is to kill as many people as you can, then why only 10 dogs, why not cause more havoc by being other creatures, using nuclear weapons, poisoning water supplies? why not something bigger. Don't you think 10 dogs is a little pathetic by evil standards?"
"who is to say evil is anything less then pathetic, that's for you to interpret, that's for everyone to interpret for themselves."
"well people these days and most days are prone to fear, but still, 10 is a pathetic number"
"look, I don't have to be the evil scientist who goes into the detail about the butterfly effect or some other bullshit like that. We all know that a drop in a bucket of water makes ripples. If there was only one of us, and we only managed to kill a few people before being put down we'd still have made our impact"
"so you're going for a ripple effect. Are the people you're killing of any significance to your plan?"
"you make it sound to well choreographed. These people aren't significant to us, but they're significant to the people close to them, a single death throws a wrench in the gears of so many people. Some never recover. You should know that well enough given your fathers death and all"
"oh, so you're omniscient evil as shit talking dogs then"
"I don't know if you're in a place to call us evil. You're a killer to, and you haven't been treating people all that well since you've been hunting us down, us poor little animals, just doing as nature tells us to"
"he deserved it, every bit of it"
"well so did the little girl I tore to pieces. She had some negative thoughts about her family, and can you believe she once pushed a cat off a high table?"
"I am not one of you, I am not purely sinister, I am not purely evil, I am not out killing for fun.."
"oh, killing for purpose is the way to go then, I see. Well I'll just buy an appointment book and then we should really have nothing to quarrel about"
"you don't kill anyone, I accept that my life is over, I accept what I've done, I accept that I've been losing my damn mind since this started"
"well, if you're losing your mind then this all makes sense. I'm a figment of your imagination. After all, dogs can't talk"
"well you can, and lord knows, if your goal is solely to affect people negatively, then my goal is put an end to you, cause it's one form of negative bullshit I can control, I can take care of"
"well then what are we waiting for, you've got it all carved out in black and white, I'm bad, you're good, it's all defined, lets' have at it shall we?"
"it will be a pleasure to kill you"
"it's been a pleasure to meet such a fool"
"well if you're whole thing is impact.."
and before I could finish my sentence, which to me would've been as close to an "hasta la vista" or an "I'll be back" as I could've ever hoped for he lunged at me. Straight forward, no fancy darting no nothing, just a huge forceful leap.
my reflexes were top notch and I brought the crowbar right down on his head. With one loud splatter it seemed as if the deed was done. He lay on the ground panting and bleeding from his head, and I took to bashing in his left leg with short choppy swings.
"ahhh, here you go with the leg breaking routine. This is kind of your trademark isn't it. A calling card of sorts" he growled through his bloody fangs
"I hadn't even thought of it as a stylistic thing. I guess old habits die hard, but I suppose if I have 8 more to go I should mix it up"
"and how many more criminals are you going to personally put to justice while you're out hunting your dogs? what if she was lying?"
I wailed on his whole body for a minute. Blood, screaming, growling, tearing or flesh and bodily organs.
I knelt down by his ear.
"listen up lassie, everyone gets their justice dealt to them in due time. I will get mine. Just as you will get yours. And if this is all made up in my head, then I can end it anytime can't I? huh? I'll take that as a yes. If that's the case, then we all know how stories end right? When times get tough the deus ex machina comes down and saves everyone. Well my machine of god is this crowbar and it has saved how many people, or drops of water as you think of them?"
"you're rambling, but for the record, that crowbar is not much of a machine"
"its machine enough for me"
"well speaking of machines of god, here's mine"
And from out behind me it came. Jaws locked into my back and I was hit hard.
I can't remember a lot of details of this point. It's hard to describe feeling every bit afraid, and every bit in agony while having every bit of adrenaline, piss, anger and venom run through you all at once.
Apparently it wasn't my time, but the clock was held down in front of my face for awhile.
a blur of the order of events rushes through. I was dragged, there was no more crowbar, there were new teeth marks and scratches added to my body every few seconds. There was a struggle, I forgot that they didn't play fair, I thought about sex for a second and how I might never experience it again. Life never flashed before my eyes, but mud and blackness and blood did.
Why the dog never went in for an exceptionally critical hit is beyond me. Maybe he wanted to play with me a little more, maybe I was doing all the right things defensive wise, maybe he was an awful killing dog. There was no deus ex machina, but I think there was a lucky flailing arm that happen to punch the dog in the genitalia of god, cause for a brief second I had the opportunity to spin around and take control of the situation, and I did.
I never knew how destructive I could be. I don't think I got off on gouging the dogs eyes out, or the sound of its yelping even after I had ripped its tongue out. You couldn't blame me for a little hysterical yelling as I started to fully realize how cut up my back was and how much pain I was in while I rung my hands around the dogs neck and dragged it to the ground, cursing, telling it how bad a dog it was and how I had to take it for a walk.
Dragging it back to where its friend was I started to lose steam. My body started to feel like it was going in shock. Tears rolling down my face, piss rolling down my leg. It was everything short of a kodak moment.
even though the dogs weren't in much of a position to remain alive for much longer I took it upon myself to retrieve the crowbar and pound away at their bodies with everything I had left in me for what felt like hours.
It occurred to me as I fell to my knees in front of piles of dog bones and guts how there might be a third one waiting. Maybe all the rest of them watching me. I tried to ration that they'd have already attacked me if such was the case, but either way my body was shutting down and I was falling into the mess I had made and I was going to close my eyes and pass out.
clearly the god machine was malfunctioning, or I had lost my usage privileges somewhere along the way.