Neutralized
They didn't understand, they could not be blamed, not
with their small minds, their limited imaginations. Who could know
what it means to have the responsibilities of a God.
He lay back on the
bed. He looked around. See, nothing was as it seemed, even though it
appeared to be cut and dry it wasn't.
He had watched the man for a long time, things appeared to be
normal but, he knew his information to be correct. His information was
always correct. All of the others had gone without a fight, not that
they could fight with him, he had the strength of the Gods, he was a
God.
The man left each
morning at 6am, he returned each evening at 6pm. What human being was
that precise? He walked that scurvy mongrel of his each morning at 5am
and, each evening at 7pm. In the mornings he returned each morning at
5:30am and each evening precisely 8:00pm. He had never been late or
early. He walked from his house to the park two blocks away, sat on the
same bench. He sat for 10 minutes each morning and 15 minutes each
evening. He would then put the dog back on the leash and walk over to
the vender, buy a drink and a magazine. He had asked them, who is that
precise, every day for two years, it wasn't normal. It confirmed his
suspicions and the information he'd received.
There had been a
couple of evenings he had sat on the stoop of the brownstone, just so he
could look at his face. It was there, blankness, just like the others.
That had been the
worst part for him, how the faces changed. Before they knew him, the
faces had been blank, no eyes, no lips, no mouth or nose, just skin
covering a hole.
His work had been
tiring, it sapped all of his energy, it had to be performed at midnight,
only at midnight. The hardest part had been entering the homes. Most
of them locked up well. They had to protect their secrets, they hadn't
wanted the real people to know they existed. Still, no matter how
careful they had been, he always found a way.
It still amazed him
too, how they would fall apart once they knew he was there to neutralize
them. How they cried and begged him for mercy, suddenly all of their
features appeared, see, if they had been smart enough to do that before,
information would not have been sent to him. They would not have been
neutralized.
He didn't like the
straps holding his arms or his legs. He knew it was time for him to
take his place with the Gods. He didn't like the white gown they had
given him to wear. His body was holy and it should not have been
covered. He felt the prick and a slight sting. He stared up at the
ceiling, smiling as it spun into a pinpoint and then disappeared.
The file was
interesting, why had this man been allowed to roam the streets, why
hadn't he been under a doctors care, it was clear he was schizophrenic,
with homicidal tendencies, so many questions, but no answers. No
answers for the families of the 14 victims he had brutally
{NEUTRALIZED}.
