|
|
|
She watched as his heart hammered out a uneven beat, and his breathing, even with the mask, came out in irregular gasps. Only a little while longer.
She watched and waited and remembered.
"Do you remember," she began silkily, "when you used to run the gang, and everyone feared your iron fist?"
"Not now, Lena," he rasped out between coughs. She ignored him, continuing.
"Do you remember when you found me? I was just a child, you said, and you were old enough to be my grandfather." He had no response. Lena pressed on. "And my parents. Do you remember what they looked like, with bullets in their chest? Do you?"
The machines next to him flashed, multi-colored lights blinking. With a shaky hand, he picked up the coffee on the table in front of him, bringing it up to his lips. It spilled down his shirt, and he scowled.
"Shut up," he growled, grabbing for his gun. "I said shut up, Lena." She knocked his hands out of the way, caressing the soft metal of the pistol.
"I`m not done asking," she held her hands up innocently. He jumped up, then grabbed his chest and moaned. Lena aimed the gun at his balding head. He slowly settled back into his seat.
"Where were we?" she laughed, cruel. For once the power in her hands. It felt so good. "Do you remember the day you claimed me as 'yours'? When I was stripped of my identity and became this, this beast?"
She pushed the gun into his chest and laughed again, "Well do you?" He made no response, her victory souring. She shouted, screamed, "Do you, old man? Do you remember? You ruined my life!"
She pointed the gun at his head, pulling the trigger. He let out a moan, that cut off abruptly as Hell devoured his soul.
She sighed, dropping the gun back on the table. She had gone through all this work, this deception to make his death the worst it could be. She had ruined it.
She glanced at the body and cackled. Not completely.
She looked one last time at his limp face, and slowly began taking out the wires, one by one.
Her hearing went with one, her eyes with another. After the next two, she couldn`t move anything but her pinkie finger. She pulled the last one free, dropping to the floor with a thud.
Over, finally over.
She only wished it had ended sooner.
Mascara Maniac · Sat Jul 30, 2011 @ 11:03pm · 0 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|