Post by K. L. Henson on Jan 24, 2016 17:16:06 GMT -5
White...That was the color of the world, or at least the color of the city (maybe even the color of the system). The freezing air burned the exposed faces of the few bystanders walking around the city streets. Most people were in the comfort of their heated cars traveling at inadvisable speeds, creating an unfavorable breeze for those on their feet. Up ahead a few blocks was a dark green, box-economy car stuck in a snow bank with two or three people trying to push it out to no avail. The driver, who appeared to be a middle-aged, balding, white male, was trying to reverse the vehicle out of the mound, but the wheels didn't seem to have much traction; probably the reason he was in this position to begin with. What the other three were trying to do was time their pushes with his flooring but it seemed as if them and the driver were failing to get on the same rhythm. The individual an the right was a very skinny and young Latino with a very thick navy-blue Nike jacket and a black tall-hat with a small logo from some indiscernible company. He was the least effectual of the three as he appeared to be the weakest and his shoes were flat tops that didn't grip to the snow in the least. Every time he pushed, he just kept sliding back. The guy in between the two others was an Asian man in overly-efficient winter gear such as snow pants, puffy winter jacket, thick gloves and boots that dug deep into the snow. He was in an awkward position of needing to stand in the mound and lean himself parallel to the ground, using the unstable snow bank and the panicking car to keep him up. One could easily view the discomfort on his face. While on the other side was a clearly muscular black man in a beige leather jacket, skullcap, and thin gloves. He was the one trying to communicate with the driver to get the timing down but the driver appeared to be misunderstanding and missing the cues. The two were becoming frustrated with each other after a few failed attempts.
Leather Jacket: Hey man, you gotta do it in time with us.
Driver: That's what Imma tryin' to do! You need to let me know whats up and when!
Leather Jacket: Listen! I am yellin' out! On three! One...Two...Three!
NO KICK OUT! Wait...no, just the driver hitting the gas too soon. This frustrated the man in the leather jacket. He stepped away from the front of the car to approach the driver and it appeared to be a rather heated discussion. In the mean time, the Latino in the Nike jacket turned around and noticed someone behind them standing there watching. His eyes lit up as he made the common mistake that a fourth person would help the situation.
Nike Jacket: Hey yo, bro! Can you give us a hand here?!
And there stood Henson in a hoodie and jeans that were considerably thinner than what would have been appropriate for the weather, but it didn't seem to bother the Head of Talent of Relations as he continued to watch, almost mentally sucked out of any awareness of the windchill. Henson's face didn't flinch as, instead of answering, he leaned back against the light pole that was behind him; expressionless as always, almost as if he didn't notice the question was addressed to him. The man in the Nike Jacket gave him a look in irritated disbelief before shaking his head and directing his attention back to the vehicle.
Leather Jacket: I'm giving it one more shot but if you don't get it this time, I am leaving your ass and you can call a tow or somethin'.
The driver scoffed as the man in the leather jacket returned to the front of the car, passing a look to the other two as if he wondered why they all decided to help in the first place. Henson knew exactly was the issue but he wasn't going to say anything. There was a program of off-rhythm chaos going on. The Latino was pushing without rhyme or reason, unaware of the need for a cohesive one-go, as well as a lack of traction. The Asian had no foundation. So, there was almost no power in his attempt even if he was the biggest guy there, he is simply in the worst spot. And the black man wearing the leather jacket had all the right ideas but didn't have the ability to collect his random troop of helpful citizens. communication seemed to be completely exhausted. It was a question if it even could be fixed. But Henson continued to watched, observing what was going to happen next, even if it was predictable.
They got ready for one last push. Everyone arched their backs and bent their knees as they placed their hands against the front of the car, cupping it like a drawer they simply needed to push closed. They looked at each other one last time before the man in the leather jacket started counting. One!...Two!...Three! They started pushing and the driver actually hit the gas at the right time as it started pulling back. Henson was wide eyed with surprise as he was caught off guard by the progress...until...the winter appropriate Asian lost his footing and his feet slipped out from under him, causing him to fall forward and hit his head on the edge of the hood. The other two hesitated for a moment, but that is all it took. The car ended up sliding back into place. The two grabbed the fallen man and pulled him from the snow bank, softly laying him on the ground, checking to make sure he was okay.
The driver stepped out of the car, furious with the fact that he was almost out but ended up back where he started. He approached the three as his rage increased from the cold that he was now feeling more potently than the rest of them. The other two were too distracted with the fallen comrade to notice him berating them until the driver pushed the black man in the leather jacket which caused the two to bump chests like the animals they both were. The Latino stepped away from the Asian to try and separate the two but still being a rather weak individual, couldn't even seem to get in between them. He turned around to plead to Henson to help him.
Nike Jacket: Do something! You saw everything! We have to do something before they go at it!
Henson's face gained a crooked smile. He pushed off from the pole and approached the Latino who suddenly felt uneasy as it became apparent that Henson had no interest in helping. Henson grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in for a punch right on the chin, sending him to the ground. Henson stood over the Latino, staring down at him in silence as the smile slowly grew into a twitching full teeth grin and his eyes wide with blood lust. The driver and his five second rival quickly stopped their bickering and looked over in disbelief, stuck in place by shock. Henson reeled back his leg then swung forward with a hard kick to the young man's face. Then he proceeded to stomp him in the gut until the driver pulled out his phone and obviously dial nine-one-one. Henson stopped suddenly and abruptly turned and walked away, confident he wouldn't be followed.
I was not made in the image of Christ. What kind of ethereal path would allow such a person as me? And not just stop at a person like me who is more or less indifferent to one faction or another, but to go further and create the seedy underbelly of robin-hood.exe black market traders, integral-depravity.exe human traffickers, abusive-crack-fishing.exe pornographers, and the bloated belly buyers it all circles around. Doesn't bother me any but I am sure that The Christ would be rather disappointed; not in the people, but to find out he is not the man he thought he was. He is a molester! An enabler! A fucking profiteer on the weakness of his brothers! But most of all he is an uncaring, cognitively-dissonant, failure! Certainly not the son of god but the son of a random, half-witted man of the Earth. The only privilege of dying as a martyr is the fact that you don't have to die feeling like the rest of us. They refuse to accept to die in a pathetic, humiliating, puddle of mud, blood, and shit. That cross keeps them high above.
Don't tell me we have to do something! We don't have to do anything. Sleep well, sweet prince, we shall meet again very soon.
---(KLH)---
I might be taking part in Gein's War but I still had my own group of goons to deal with. What a land of misfit toys I had made for myself. It has grown a little ways since we last spoke. You can only be surprised how much hopelessness there is in this country of ours. Wandering no ones who couldn't find a place because they couldn't fit into the grand scheme! I guess this was exactly what Gein was talking about. But as it were, I decided it was my responsibility to collect these spare parts as they passed on by me, doing nothing better than sitting on their hands. It is a slow process because they didn't see it our way at first. To them, I was just a raving mad man and they were the sensible bystander who were supposed to look away. But I eventually, with hard work and persistence, got them to see it my way.
Most of them were unsuspecting enough to think that a few locks would be enough to protect them, to discourage the bastards and thieves; which is fair. But, sometimes you are chosen by the one person who only gets encouraged by it. We have gotten the process down to a science. We would put on the ski-masks then either break a window or charge down the door itself (sometimes we did both and raced to see who could get to the person of interest first). We would then ransack the house, smashing and tearing down everything in sight; making sure it looked like a bunch of hoodlums having a hoot and a howler for the hell of it. If we didn't have that kind of energy, which had happened a few times, we would just strike a match and send the place up in smoke. If there were other people in these homes?...Well, we didn't have a need for them, so I only saw one option there. Usually the captive would plead for us not to. They would sob and beg and try to talk us out of it, but they didn't know any better so I usually forgave them.
It didn't matter if the neighbors saw us or not because we would always be out of there before the cops arrived. Just remember that they always arrive after something terrible has happened. We would hop in the van and speed off. Afterwards we would burn all the clothes we were wearing and dropped off the vehicle in a land fill owned by a man inside Gein's circle.
We have become such a tightly knit team since it all started and almost every time the plan would go off without a hitch. Though whether or not these individuals we recruited would choose to see it our way was up to them. Some did, some eventually saw the light. The average time of the breaking point was usually twenty days; or at least that is the usual amount of time we would give them before giving up and tossing them out to the buzzards. It was a learning process for us. We practiced plenty of different methods and some proved more effective than others. The most important thing we learned was not to break anything that would only cause pain for a short term. Sure they would be saying “yes yes yes” but they wouldn't believe it! They needed to believe it! I wasn't doing this just to have them say what I wanted to hear! I found it was more effective do things that extended the burning and the stinging and the suffering. Eventually the long odyssey of pain they traveled would scatter their brain and it would regroup around the seed you been planting in them. Not a perfect system, if I could, I would open their skulls and reprogram them with my own two hands but that isn't how it works (though that doesn't mean I didn't try sometimes).
But even with our advancements and accomplishments, there were still plenty of issues with my little cult project. Kayla, poor Kayla, poor broken Kayla. There will be times she cries and sobs and she doesn't know why. She will just be sitting around as I tend to my work and she will just break out in a wale. Though, sometimes she will look at me and say things like “Why don't you love me?!” or “Is Katherine Phoenix your attempt to replace me?!”. You will have to excuse me if I don't go to comfort and reassure her. I am still a little bitter about the Stockholm syndrome thing. I realize she couldn't help it but that doesn't change the fact it happened; and I don't get bitter about a lot of things but my experiments are the closest I will ever come to having children. Davidson seems a little more annoyed by these outbursts than I do. He will start yelling at Kayla. “Shut up! Do you ever stop crying?!”, which will only aggravate the situation and cause Kayla to further break down. Plenty of times the situation would come to blows as Davidson would smack Kayla, throw her to the ground and start kicking her. Most of the time I would just sit there and stare. Sometimes I hardly remember the moment because everything will glaze over in a daze.
Honestly, I thought of throwing Kayla to the buzzards. I can't have a team that is always at odds. Though something is always alluring watching it break down, but then I always seem to be enraged after it is over. What is the use of being able to come together if you can't unify!
Some days I chose to stay in the office so I didn't have to deal with it. I am not a paperwork kind of guy but it was something else to do. But this last week Kat came to visit me in my office one night. She slowly waltzed in with her hips swaying visibly side to side, wearing her tight fitting skirt with a white button blouse that seemed to accentuate her “qualities” as some would put it. I knew she was trying to get me notice as I came to understand it. It always seemed like she was testing me for some reason to get an answer that I didn't know to give. I just kept to my work, because even if that is not what she was looking for, that was the truth of me. I am not sure if she understood that quite.
She sat at the edge of my desk, I looked up at her as she smiled down at me. The light over head behind her made it slightly difficult to see passed her silhouette. I took off my reading glasses and asked what I could do for her. She just laughed like she would and tell me nothing really, she was just checking up on me, making sure I wasn't losing it with all the paperwork. I shrugged and continued filling out the form I was currently on. She didn't move from the edge of my desk. A moment of silence passed as it was very apparent that she was trying to think of something to ask. She would do this once in a while. Try to probe me with questions but it was never anything that I cared to answer. “What is Koala Lions favorite color?”, “What do you do when you aren't here working?”, “What do you think is the best kind of cookie?”. I reply every time with a shrug.
Suddenly she asks me what K. L. stand for. I shrug.
She says that we have been dating for long enough that she should know what it stands for. I tell her it stands for nothing.
She looked at me with that twisted grimace and a cocked head which I have come to understand is her pouting. Sometimes I am not sure I understand her at all. But that seems to be what makes us work. We have very little understanding what goes through the other one's head and we both appear to be a little to odd for society's liking. We band together through the similarities we don't understand. This is comforting to me for some reason, until she starts prodding again.
She asks me if I believe in love.
I tell her “Love is just a chemical that urges us to procreate. It is lust that eventually turns into its own kind of Stockholm syndrome. It is only there so we bother to fuck and make babies. Do you think anyone would want a screaming little bastard if there wasn't a different kind of incentive in the way to create one? Nature has to trick us into it.”
“What if I was pregnant?”
“I would punch you in the gut.”
“Hmmm...Something doesn't make sense with what you said Koala Lion. If it is about making babies, then why does Tiffany date women? Two women can't make a baby...”
“Sigh. Well, one would say she is a mental deformity. Though aren't we all. Also, one could say that her chemicals are rigged to slow down population growth since we are growing at such a rate that our planet will be dried up very soon. Love is nothing but a systematic attempt to control the ebb and flow of humanity, much like anger, sadness, etcetera. It is all rules meant to make us act for a purpose.”
She obviously she wasn't listening! “How can you hate love, Koala Lion! It is so amazing and makes everyone feel so happiful!”
“I don't...Look, that is a bullshit argument. That is an example of an Ultimate-Freedom-Positive type argument.”
She looked at me with a similar look again but this time less grimace and more head cocking. I have come to understand this as confusion.
“Ultimate-Freedom-Positive is the kind of argument that faults the opposition as hating “good things”. The idea that Freedom and Love are inarguable and that anyone who questions it is instantly wrong. But let me ask you this! How can love and freedom be so great when so many people suffer because of it?! People are born to abusive any leverage to get! You have cheaters, liars, thieves, indignation and greed! On the chaotic pathway, people are constantly colliding with each other with no rhyme or reason because we think it is so important to let people “be themselves” and have them “choose their own path”. Freedom and love isn't going to lead us into this dreamed of utopia where everything is going to be okay! The only way to do that is the exact opposite and would be a path that so many have such a problem of admitting.”
“And what would that be?”
“That not all people are created equal! Some programs are not as well programmed as others! The Nazis might have been fundamentally mistaken but they had the right idea! People have to be ruled with an iron fist! They can't be left to their own devices or they will melt away into a toxic heap! You need to choose between a utopia where the suffering ends and we can eliminate every illness, crime, and murder from the world or fairness where everyone is allowed to continue to be a menace to others! The Nazis knew that to create a perfect and systematic world, they needed to destroy the difference! Destroy the contrasts! Destroy the inconsistencies! Eliminate the possibility of something moving against the grain! It doesn't matter if you have the one man who knows exactly what to do, when he dies and gets replaced by someone who wipes all that work away. You need to make sure that they have the same message and goal going on in every head! Reprogram them all until it is one consistent code!
"That is what makes our team work, Kat! We have the same goal in mind! Holden used to view me as the enemy! He used to be teamed with that asshole Preecha! But eventually he came around to see it my way! It is what separates us from the rest of them, Kat! You think such a mish-mashed team like DeMarcus, MacNeill, and White have that kind of unity?! No! Even if they weren't facing us, they would have a hell of a time coming together! They couldn't be more separate in mentality! We! We know what is more important! We aren't worried about our own individual success! We know it is about the sake of the group and our overall mission to reform WCF! We have important roles, being in control of Talent Relations! We are going to reshape this company into our image! No more chaos among the ranks! No more disrespect to authority! No more questioning our motives! We know what is best for this company and I am not going to let a group of random insubordinates make fools out of us! We are the power, we are the system, we are the mission! Anyone who doesn't flow us will be tossed out to the buzzards! If DeMarcus doesn't like the way that we work, we'll break him! If Tiffany White thinks she can just hit on you with no concern and no worries of consequence then we will train her otherwise! If Cormack...If Cormack...Ummm...”
A moment passed as I realize that Cormack had been entirely cooperative with our demands and has caused little trouble. He was just a thick-headed Scottsman of the MacNeill tribe. The only thing that could really be said about him was that he wasn't a bright fellow but I had an experience of dealing with the not-so-bright and they were always rather inceptive of my ideas if just given a little bit...That's it!
“He-he-he...Well, isn't that a chink in the armor. Tiffany and DeMarcus definitely feel the need to be opposition against our cause because it doesn't suit them. But Cormack, he doesn't mind one way or the other. He is an adjustable man who is more or less just willing to fight for the hell of it. But that will be their down fall! Don't you see Kat?! They are even farther from being a united front than I had originally noticed! HA! If they had the common enemy of us, I would be generally worried to an extent but they don't even have that to go on! On the great chaotic path, they are far from coming together! They are all pushing but not for the same rhyme or reason! They are all on their own rhythm while we will be coming in with the same beat in our heads! One, two, three, four...One, two, three, four! Yes! Three people down already! That is why WCF is so weak! HAHA! They are all scrambling everywhere to begin with! That is the reason #BeachKrew ran this place! That is the same reason we are going to recreate it! We will take away the one flaw this company has! We will take away the difference, the contrast, the inconsistencies! It will be a Henson and Phoenix utopia!”
I was standing now! Pacing back and forth in the middle of my office with my hands behind my back. I looked over to Kat who still looked puzzle which made me stop in my tracks, wondering what part she was not quite understanding.
She said “...So, you don't love me?...”
I approached her and cupped her face in my hands and pressed my forehead against hers. I finally knew the answer. “Kat, you are the most interesting thing I have ever come across. There is so much I don't understand about you and that intrigues me to no end. You are one of those things that encapsulates my thoughts. If that is what it means, then yes, Kat. I love you in the only way I can be bothered to love anything.”
...I looked into here eyes but the only thing I could think about was the idea of a marching army in my name. A banner held up high in demand of my words! Ultimate-Freedom-Positive no longer a problem, Ultimate-Punishment-Negative is the future. Heil Henson! Henson provides! Henson saves! The Christ has been reborned!
---(KLH)---
White...The world was still covered in the chill of the hiding Sun. It was 4 in the morning and Henson was leaning again a van marked with a plumber companies logo as he stared at the house across the street. The house was a one floor (not including the basement) beige, old, war-time house in the middle of a decaying neighborhood. A car pulled up to behind the van and out stepped Mr. Holden, Mr. Davidson and a few others Henson had recruited, with their ski-masks already on. Mr. Holden walked up to Henson with a crowbar in hand as the Head of Talent Relations continued to stare down the house.
K. L. Henson: You know the drill. But, let's skip the destruction, we have a match Sunday, I don't need any accidents. I'll take care of the house. Hand me your keys.
Mr. Holden reached into his pocket and pulled out the key to the car and handed it Henson as he handed him the key to the van in return. Henson walked over to the car and sat on the corner of the hood as the others looked at each other and nodded. They quietly approached the house. Holden and two others went to the front as the others went around to the back. Apparently they had agreed on a race. Holden knocked out the door handle and deadbolt out with the crowbar then rushed into the house. From the outside, lights could be seen from inside the house and shortly after there was audible screaming before sudden silence. Within a minute or so, Holden came out the victory as he carried an unconscious man over his shoulder. It was the young Latino man from earlier. His name was Randy and Henson had been watching him for a while before the car incident. He was actually a former classmate of Kayla's. He wasn't a bright kid but Kayla had mentioned him to be a little bit of an altruist in a sense. Henson always liked that term “altruist”. More martyrdom though and Henson was tired of hearing about how much martyrs change the world. No one ever changed anything by dying. He had to start convincing these assholes that staying alive was the proper way to do anything. Jesus died for his cause and the world just continued to be shit. Way to go. But Henson decided he will be the living Christ. He will be the one to change this world into what he felt was for the best. And that involved Randy...
Holden stuffed Randy into the back of the van as everyone spilled out of the house and into the van right before it squealed off. Henson walked up to the house and pulled a match book out of his pocket. He walked in and observed the home, practically untouched by his cohesive team. He viewed the pictures on the wall which showed Randy's family. Mother, father, brothers and so on. They looked happy. He knocked them to the ground before entering the kitchen. He searched through the cupboards and cabinets until he came across one with a lock. Henson looked around on the floor until he saw the crowbar that Holden had tossed to the side. He really needs to be more careful.
Henson took the crowbar and started swinging at the cabinet until the lock was generally pointless. He ripped away some wood and reached in to pull out a bottle of whiskey. He twisted off the top and walked over into the living room. Henson decided to poor the whole bottle on the couch then tossed the bottle aside. He flipped open the matchbook, ripped out a stick and struck it against the rough patch on the back until it flashed with a small flame. He looked around for a moment, soaking in this man's life before erasing it forever. He then tossed the match and the couch instantly lit up. Henson watched for a moment as it spread across the cloth. He then exited the home once it was certain to go up in flames. He hopped in the unmarked vehicle and sped off down the street.
---(KLH)--
Kat was out late the night before she had to travel out for Slam this weekend. She thought she would drop in and surprise Henson at his home. She pulled up into the drive way and walked up to the front door. She rung the door bell and waited for a moment but no answer. She rung it again and then proceeded to knock loudly but still no answer. She looked down and so the rug that said “go away”. She reached down and saw that there was a key underneath. She grabbed it and unlocked the door before walking in.
Katherine Phoenix: Koala Lion! I'm here to rape you!
She thought this would get his attention but as she walked around, she discovered that he wasn't there. But when she walked past the basement door, she heard voices coming through. She quietly opened the door as the voices became that much clearer. She first heard Henson's voice.
K. L. Henson: You want to come down? Hmmm? You want to come down...tell me the truth. What is good in life...
She heard a few other voices she didn't know along with a sort of miserable moan. She tipped toed down the stairs until she reached the turn and came into view of the horrible sight. There was Henson standing facing away from her. Davidson was sitting off to the side waiting in boredom as Kayla was on the other side down on her knees watching from afar. But what Henson was standing in front of is what was unnerving to Phoenix. It was Randy but it was more than that. It was Randy with his hands and feet nailed to a cross as he was dressed in nothing but a loincloth with blood running down his arms and legs, leaving a puddle below him of a few different liquids. His face was pale and in anguish.
K. L. Henson: Tell me, Randy, what's good in life?
Randy: What do you want me to say?!?
Henson sighed.
K. L. Henson: Nope, not yet. Give him thirty more minutes on the cross.
Randy screamed as Kayla stood to her feet.
Randy: Kayla! How can you let this happen!? Help me.
She approached the hanging man and placed her hand on his face before a second later clawing down it, causing him to continue to bleed. Randy screamed again before he was slapped hard by the Stockholm victim. Henson turned away but was shocked to see Kat standing there wide eyed and scared.
K. L. Henson: Shit...
Kat turned and ran up the stairs but Henson quickly ran after her. She was passed the basement door and was on her way out the front when Henson reached around her and started carrying her back into the house.
Katherine Phoenix: NO! NO! NO!
K. L. Henson: Shhh! Kat!
He struggled as he had to fight with her to get her back down to the basement. She gripped onto the doorway which brought them to a stand still as they had a battle of strength until Henson violently wrenched back which almost brought them both falling down the floor if Kat didn't quickly adjust and grab the railing. They stumbled back a few steps until Henson regained his footing and forced Kat down the last few steps and aimed her toward the miserable martyr. She tried to look away and rip out of Henson's grip with scratches but Henson quickly grabbed her arms and held them across her body in a sort of a restrained hug. Then Henson whispered in Kat's ear.
K. L. Henson: Shhh...Kat, it's going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. This is how we are going to reform the world. It might not be an Obi, or an Andre, or a Dag but don't be mistaken. This man is not innocent. No one is. He is guilty of fighting the grain of the world, of keeping all of us into unifying into the great controlled collective we are becoming! Shhh...This is our future...
Kat slowly stopped struggling and looked to Randy who was currently unconscious up on the cross. Henson proceeded to lightly sway her back and forth while softly humming in her ear.
This is our future. This is our mission. Henson provides! Henson saves! The Christ has been reborn!
Leather Jacket: Hey man, you gotta do it in time with us.
Driver: That's what Imma tryin' to do! You need to let me know whats up and when!
Leather Jacket: Listen! I am yellin' out! On three! One...Two...Three!
NO KICK OUT! Wait...no, just the driver hitting the gas too soon. This frustrated the man in the leather jacket. He stepped away from the front of the car to approach the driver and it appeared to be a rather heated discussion. In the mean time, the Latino in the Nike jacket turned around and noticed someone behind them standing there watching. His eyes lit up as he made the common mistake that a fourth person would help the situation.
Nike Jacket: Hey yo, bro! Can you give us a hand here?!
And there stood Henson in a hoodie and jeans that were considerably thinner than what would have been appropriate for the weather, but it didn't seem to bother the Head of Talent of Relations as he continued to watch, almost mentally sucked out of any awareness of the windchill. Henson's face didn't flinch as, instead of answering, he leaned back against the light pole that was behind him; expressionless as always, almost as if he didn't notice the question was addressed to him. The man in the Nike Jacket gave him a look in irritated disbelief before shaking his head and directing his attention back to the vehicle.
Leather Jacket: I'm giving it one more shot but if you don't get it this time, I am leaving your ass and you can call a tow or somethin'.
The driver scoffed as the man in the leather jacket returned to the front of the car, passing a look to the other two as if he wondered why they all decided to help in the first place. Henson knew exactly was the issue but he wasn't going to say anything. There was a program of off-rhythm chaos going on. The Latino was pushing without rhyme or reason, unaware of the need for a cohesive one-go, as well as a lack of traction. The Asian had no foundation. So, there was almost no power in his attempt even if he was the biggest guy there, he is simply in the worst spot. And the black man wearing the leather jacket had all the right ideas but didn't have the ability to collect his random troop of helpful citizens. communication seemed to be completely exhausted. It was a question if it even could be fixed. But Henson continued to watched, observing what was going to happen next, even if it was predictable.
They got ready for one last push. Everyone arched their backs and bent their knees as they placed their hands against the front of the car, cupping it like a drawer they simply needed to push closed. They looked at each other one last time before the man in the leather jacket started counting. One!...Two!...Three! They started pushing and the driver actually hit the gas at the right time as it started pulling back. Henson was wide eyed with surprise as he was caught off guard by the progress...until...the winter appropriate Asian lost his footing and his feet slipped out from under him, causing him to fall forward and hit his head on the edge of the hood. The other two hesitated for a moment, but that is all it took. The car ended up sliding back into place. The two grabbed the fallen man and pulled him from the snow bank, softly laying him on the ground, checking to make sure he was okay.
The driver stepped out of the car, furious with the fact that he was almost out but ended up back where he started. He approached the three as his rage increased from the cold that he was now feeling more potently than the rest of them. The other two were too distracted with the fallen comrade to notice him berating them until the driver pushed the black man in the leather jacket which caused the two to bump chests like the animals they both were. The Latino stepped away from the Asian to try and separate the two but still being a rather weak individual, couldn't even seem to get in between them. He turned around to plead to Henson to help him.
Nike Jacket: Do something! You saw everything! We have to do something before they go at it!
Henson's face gained a crooked smile. He pushed off from the pole and approached the Latino who suddenly felt uneasy as it became apparent that Henson had no interest in helping. Henson grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in for a punch right on the chin, sending him to the ground. Henson stood over the Latino, staring down at him in silence as the smile slowly grew into a twitching full teeth grin and his eyes wide with blood lust. The driver and his five second rival quickly stopped their bickering and looked over in disbelief, stuck in place by shock. Henson reeled back his leg then swung forward with a hard kick to the young man's face. Then he proceeded to stomp him in the gut until the driver pulled out his phone and obviously dial nine-one-one. Henson stopped suddenly and abruptly turned and walked away, confident he wouldn't be followed.
I was not made in the image of Christ. What kind of ethereal path would allow such a person as me? And not just stop at a person like me who is more or less indifferent to one faction or another, but to go further and create the seedy underbelly of robin-hood.exe black market traders, integral-depravity.exe human traffickers, abusive-crack-fishing.exe pornographers, and the bloated belly buyers it all circles around. Doesn't bother me any but I am sure that The Christ would be rather disappointed; not in the people, but to find out he is not the man he thought he was. He is a molester! An enabler! A fucking profiteer on the weakness of his brothers! But most of all he is an uncaring, cognitively-dissonant, failure! Certainly not the son of god but the son of a random, half-witted man of the Earth. The only privilege of dying as a martyr is the fact that you don't have to die feeling like the rest of us. They refuse to accept to die in a pathetic, humiliating, puddle of mud, blood, and shit. That cross keeps them high above.
Don't tell me we have to do something! We don't have to do anything. Sleep well, sweet prince, we shall meet again very soon.
---(KLH)---
I might be taking part in Gein's War but I still had my own group of goons to deal with. What a land of misfit toys I had made for myself. It has grown a little ways since we last spoke. You can only be surprised how much hopelessness there is in this country of ours. Wandering no ones who couldn't find a place because they couldn't fit into the grand scheme! I guess this was exactly what Gein was talking about. But as it were, I decided it was my responsibility to collect these spare parts as they passed on by me, doing nothing better than sitting on their hands. It is a slow process because they didn't see it our way at first. To them, I was just a raving mad man and they were the sensible bystander who were supposed to look away. But I eventually, with hard work and persistence, got them to see it my way.
Most of them were unsuspecting enough to think that a few locks would be enough to protect them, to discourage the bastards and thieves; which is fair. But, sometimes you are chosen by the one person who only gets encouraged by it. We have gotten the process down to a science. We would put on the ski-masks then either break a window or charge down the door itself (sometimes we did both and raced to see who could get to the person of interest first). We would then ransack the house, smashing and tearing down everything in sight; making sure it looked like a bunch of hoodlums having a hoot and a howler for the hell of it. If we didn't have that kind of energy, which had happened a few times, we would just strike a match and send the place up in smoke. If there were other people in these homes?...Well, we didn't have a need for them, so I only saw one option there. Usually the captive would plead for us not to. They would sob and beg and try to talk us out of it, but they didn't know any better so I usually forgave them.
It didn't matter if the neighbors saw us or not because we would always be out of there before the cops arrived. Just remember that they always arrive after something terrible has happened. We would hop in the van and speed off. Afterwards we would burn all the clothes we were wearing and dropped off the vehicle in a land fill owned by a man inside Gein's circle.
We have become such a tightly knit team since it all started and almost every time the plan would go off without a hitch. Though whether or not these individuals we recruited would choose to see it our way was up to them. Some did, some eventually saw the light. The average time of the breaking point was usually twenty days; or at least that is the usual amount of time we would give them before giving up and tossing them out to the buzzards. It was a learning process for us. We practiced plenty of different methods and some proved more effective than others. The most important thing we learned was not to break anything that would only cause pain for a short term. Sure they would be saying “yes yes yes” but they wouldn't believe it! They needed to believe it! I wasn't doing this just to have them say what I wanted to hear! I found it was more effective do things that extended the burning and the stinging and the suffering. Eventually the long odyssey of pain they traveled would scatter their brain and it would regroup around the seed you been planting in them. Not a perfect system, if I could, I would open their skulls and reprogram them with my own two hands but that isn't how it works (though that doesn't mean I didn't try sometimes).
But even with our advancements and accomplishments, there were still plenty of issues with my little cult project. Kayla, poor Kayla, poor broken Kayla. There will be times she cries and sobs and she doesn't know why. She will just be sitting around as I tend to my work and she will just break out in a wale. Though, sometimes she will look at me and say things like “Why don't you love me?!” or “Is Katherine Phoenix your attempt to replace me?!”. You will have to excuse me if I don't go to comfort and reassure her. I am still a little bitter about the Stockholm syndrome thing. I realize she couldn't help it but that doesn't change the fact it happened; and I don't get bitter about a lot of things but my experiments are the closest I will ever come to having children. Davidson seems a little more annoyed by these outbursts than I do. He will start yelling at Kayla. “Shut up! Do you ever stop crying?!”, which will only aggravate the situation and cause Kayla to further break down. Plenty of times the situation would come to blows as Davidson would smack Kayla, throw her to the ground and start kicking her. Most of the time I would just sit there and stare. Sometimes I hardly remember the moment because everything will glaze over in a daze.
Honestly, I thought of throwing Kayla to the buzzards. I can't have a team that is always at odds. Though something is always alluring watching it break down, but then I always seem to be enraged after it is over. What is the use of being able to come together if you can't unify!
Some days I chose to stay in the office so I didn't have to deal with it. I am not a paperwork kind of guy but it was something else to do. But this last week Kat came to visit me in my office one night. She slowly waltzed in with her hips swaying visibly side to side, wearing her tight fitting skirt with a white button blouse that seemed to accentuate her “qualities” as some would put it. I knew she was trying to get me notice as I came to understand it. It always seemed like she was testing me for some reason to get an answer that I didn't know to give. I just kept to my work, because even if that is not what she was looking for, that was the truth of me. I am not sure if she understood that quite.
She sat at the edge of my desk, I looked up at her as she smiled down at me. The light over head behind her made it slightly difficult to see passed her silhouette. I took off my reading glasses and asked what I could do for her. She just laughed like she would and tell me nothing really, she was just checking up on me, making sure I wasn't losing it with all the paperwork. I shrugged and continued filling out the form I was currently on. She didn't move from the edge of my desk. A moment of silence passed as it was very apparent that she was trying to think of something to ask. She would do this once in a while. Try to probe me with questions but it was never anything that I cared to answer. “What is Koala Lions favorite color?”, “What do you do when you aren't here working?”, “What do you think is the best kind of cookie?”. I reply every time with a shrug.
Suddenly she asks me what K. L. stand for. I shrug.
She says that we have been dating for long enough that she should know what it stands for. I tell her it stands for nothing.
She looked at me with that twisted grimace and a cocked head which I have come to understand is her pouting. Sometimes I am not sure I understand her at all. But that seems to be what makes us work. We have very little understanding what goes through the other one's head and we both appear to be a little to odd for society's liking. We band together through the similarities we don't understand. This is comforting to me for some reason, until she starts prodding again.
She asks me if I believe in love.
I tell her “Love is just a chemical that urges us to procreate. It is lust that eventually turns into its own kind of Stockholm syndrome. It is only there so we bother to fuck and make babies. Do you think anyone would want a screaming little bastard if there wasn't a different kind of incentive in the way to create one? Nature has to trick us into it.”
“What if I was pregnant?”
“I would punch you in the gut.”
“Hmmm...Something doesn't make sense with what you said Koala Lion. If it is about making babies, then why does Tiffany date women? Two women can't make a baby...”
“Sigh. Well, one would say she is a mental deformity. Though aren't we all. Also, one could say that her chemicals are rigged to slow down population growth since we are growing at such a rate that our planet will be dried up very soon. Love is nothing but a systematic attempt to control the ebb and flow of humanity, much like anger, sadness, etcetera. It is all rules meant to make us act for a purpose.”
She obviously she wasn't listening! “How can you hate love, Koala Lion! It is so amazing and makes everyone feel so happiful!”
“I don't...Look, that is a bullshit argument. That is an example of an Ultimate-Freedom-Positive type argument.”
She looked at me with a similar look again but this time less grimace and more head cocking. I have come to understand this as confusion.
“Ultimate-Freedom-Positive is the kind of argument that faults the opposition as hating “good things”. The idea that Freedom and Love are inarguable and that anyone who questions it is instantly wrong. But let me ask you this! How can love and freedom be so great when so many people suffer because of it?! People are born to abusive any leverage to get! You have cheaters, liars, thieves, indignation and greed! On the chaotic pathway, people are constantly colliding with each other with no rhyme or reason because we think it is so important to let people “be themselves” and have them “choose their own path”. Freedom and love isn't going to lead us into this dreamed of utopia where everything is going to be okay! The only way to do that is the exact opposite and would be a path that so many have such a problem of admitting.”
“And what would that be?”
“That not all people are created equal! Some programs are not as well programmed as others! The Nazis might have been fundamentally mistaken but they had the right idea! People have to be ruled with an iron fist! They can't be left to their own devices or they will melt away into a toxic heap! You need to choose between a utopia where the suffering ends and we can eliminate every illness, crime, and murder from the world or fairness where everyone is allowed to continue to be a menace to others! The Nazis knew that to create a perfect and systematic world, they needed to destroy the difference! Destroy the contrasts! Destroy the inconsistencies! Eliminate the possibility of something moving against the grain! It doesn't matter if you have the one man who knows exactly what to do, when he dies and gets replaced by someone who wipes all that work away. You need to make sure that they have the same message and goal going on in every head! Reprogram them all until it is one consistent code!
"That is what makes our team work, Kat! We have the same goal in mind! Holden used to view me as the enemy! He used to be teamed with that asshole Preecha! But eventually he came around to see it my way! It is what separates us from the rest of them, Kat! You think such a mish-mashed team like DeMarcus, MacNeill, and White have that kind of unity?! No! Even if they weren't facing us, they would have a hell of a time coming together! They couldn't be more separate in mentality! We! We know what is more important! We aren't worried about our own individual success! We know it is about the sake of the group and our overall mission to reform WCF! We have important roles, being in control of Talent Relations! We are going to reshape this company into our image! No more chaos among the ranks! No more disrespect to authority! No more questioning our motives! We know what is best for this company and I am not going to let a group of random insubordinates make fools out of us! We are the power, we are the system, we are the mission! Anyone who doesn't flow us will be tossed out to the buzzards! If DeMarcus doesn't like the way that we work, we'll break him! If Tiffany White thinks she can just hit on you with no concern and no worries of consequence then we will train her otherwise! If Cormack...If Cormack...Ummm...”
A moment passed as I realize that Cormack had been entirely cooperative with our demands and has caused little trouble. He was just a thick-headed Scottsman of the MacNeill tribe. The only thing that could really be said about him was that he wasn't a bright fellow but I had an experience of dealing with the not-so-bright and they were always rather inceptive of my ideas if just given a little bit...That's it!
“He-he-he...Well, isn't that a chink in the armor. Tiffany and DeMarcus definitely feel the need to be opposition against our cause because it doesn't suit them. But Cormack, he doesn't mind one way or the other. He is an adjustable man who is more or less just willing to fight for the hell of it. But that will be their down fall! Don't you see Kat?! They are even farther from being a united front than I had originally noticed! HA! If they had the common enemy of us, I would be generally worried to an extent but they don't even have that to go on! On the great chaotic path, they are far from coming together! They are all pushing but not for the same rhyme or reason! They are all on their own rhythm while we will be coming in with the same beat in our heads! One, two, three, four...One, two, three, four! Yes! Three people down already! That is why WCF is so weak! HAHA! They are all scrambling everywhere to begin with! That is the reason #BeachKrew ran this place! That is the same reason we are going to recreate it! We will take away the one flaw this company has! We will take away the difference, the contrast, the inconsistencies! It will be a Henson and Phoenix utopia!”
I was standing now! Pacing back and forth in the middle of my office with my hands behind my back. I looked over to Kat who still looked puzzle which made me stop in my tracks, wondering what part she was not quite understanding.
She said “...So, you don't love me?...”
I approached her and cupped her face in my hands and pressed my forehead against hers. I finally knew the answer. “Kat, you are the most interesting thing I have ever come across. There is so much I don't understand about you and that intrigues me to no end. You are one of those things that encapsulates my thoughts. If that is what it means, then yes, Kat. I love you in the only way I can be bothered to love anything.”
...I looked into here eyes but the only thing I could think about was the idea of a marching army in my name. A banner held up high in demand of my words! Ultimate-Freedom-Positive no longer a problem, Ultimate-Punishment-Negative is the future. Heil Henson! Henson provides! Henson saves! The Christ has been reborned!
---(KLH)---
White...The world was still covered in the chill of the hiding Sun. It was 4 in the morning and Henson was leaning again a van marked with a plumber companies logo as he stared at the house across the street. The house was a one floor (not including the basement) beige, old, war-time house in the middle of a decaying neighborhood. A car pulled up to behind the van and out stepped Mr. Holden, Mr. Davidson and a few others Henson had recruited, with their ski-masks already on. Mr. Holden walked up to Henson with a crowbar in hand as the Head of Talent Relations continued to stare down the house.
K. L. Henson: You know the drill. But, let's skip the destruction, we have a match Sunday, I don't need any accidents. I'll take care of the house. Hand me your keys.
Mr. Holden reached into his pocket and pulled out the key to the car and handed it Henson as he handed him the key to the van in return. Henson walked over to the car and sat on the corner of the hood as the others looked at each other and nodded. They quietly approached the house. Holden and two others went to the front as the others went around to the back. Apparently they had agreed on a race. Holden knocked out the door handle and deadbolt out with the crowbar then rushed into the house. From the outside, lights could be seen from inside the house and shortly after there was audible screaming before sudden silence. Within a minute or so, Holden came out the victory as he carried an unconscious man over his shoulder. It was the young Latino man from earlier. His name was Randy and Henson had been watching him for a while before the car incident. He was actually a former classmate of Kayla's. He wasn't a bright kid but Kayla had mentioned him to be a little bit of an altruist in a sense. Henson always liked that term “altruist”. More martyrdom though and Henson was tired of hearing about how much martyrs change the world. No one ever changed anything by dying. He had to start convincing these assholes that staying alive was the proper way to do anything. Jesus died for his cause and the world just continued to be shit. Way to go. But Henson decided he will be the living Christ. He will be the one to change this world into what he felt was for the best. And that involved Randy...
Holden stuffed Randy into the back of the van as everyone spilled out of the house and into the van right before it squealed off. Henson walked up to the house and pulled a match book out of his pocket. He walked in and observed the home, practically untouched by his cohesive team. He viewed the pictures on the wall which showed Randy's family. Mother, father, brothers and so on. They looked happy. He knocked them to the ground before entering the kitchen. He searched through the cupboards and cabinets until he came across one with a lock. Henson looked around on the floor until he saw the crowbar that Holden had tossed to the side. He really needs to be more careful.
Henson took the crowbar and started swinging at the cabinet until the lock was generally pointless. He ripped away some wood and reached in to pull out a bottle of whiskey. He twisted off the top and walked over into the living room. Henson decided to poor the whole bottle on the couch then tossed the bottle aside. He flipped open the matchbook, ripped out a stick and struck it against the rough patch on the back until it flashed with a small flame. He looked around for a moment, soaking in this man's life before erasing it forever. He then tossed the match and the couch instantly lit up. Henson watched for a moment as it spread across the cloth. He then exited the home once it was certain to go up in flames. He hopped in the unmarked vehicle and sped off down the street.
---(KLH)--
Kat was out late the night before she had to travel out for Slam this weekend. She thought she would drop in and surprise Henson at his home. She pulled up into the drive way and walked up to the front door. She rung the door bell and waited for a moment but no answer. She rung it again and then proceeded to knock loudly but still no answer. She looked down and so the rug that said “go away”. She reached down and saw that there was a key underneath. She grabbed it and unlocked the door before walking in.
Katherine Phoenix: Koala Lion! I'm here to rape you!
She thought this would get his attention but as she walked around, she discovered that he wasn't there. But when she walked past the basement door, she heard voices coming through. She quietly opened the door as the voices became that much clearer. She first heard Henson's voice.
K. L. Henson: You want to come down? Hmmm? You want to come down...tell me the truth. What is good in life...
She heard a few other voices she didn't know along with a sort of miserable moan. She tipped toed down the stairs until she reached the turn and came into view of the horrible sight. There was Henson standing facing away from her. Davidson was sitting off to the side waiting in boredom as Kayla was on the other side down on her knees watching from afar. But what Henson was standing in front of is what was unnerving to Phoenix. It was Randy but it was more than that. It was Randy with his hands and feet nailed to a cross as he was dressed in nothing but a loincloth with blood running down his arms and legs, leaving a puddle below him of a few different liquids. His face was pale and in anguish.
K. L. Henson: Tell me, Randy, what's good in life?
Randy: What do you want me to say?!?
Henson sighed.
K. L. Henson: Nope, not yet. Give him thirty more minutes on the cross.
Randy screamed as Kayla stood to her feet.
Randy: Kayla! How can you let this happen!? Help me.
She approached the hanging man and placed her hand on his face before a second later clawing down it, causing him to continue to bleed. Randy screamed again before he was slapped hard by the Stockholm victim. Henson turned away but was shocked to see Kat standing there wide eyed and scared.
K. L. Henson: Shit...
Kat turned and ran up the stairs but Henson quickly ran after her. She was passed the basement door and was on her way out the front when Henson reached around her and started carrying her back into the house.
Katherine Phoenix: NO! NO! NO!
K. L. Henson: Shhh! Kat!
He struggled as he had to fight with her to get her back down to the basement. She gripped onto the doorway which brought them to a stand still as they had a battle of strength until Henson violently wrenched back which almost brought them both falling down the floor if Kat didn't quickly adjust and grab the railing. They stumbled back a few steps until Henson regained his footing and forced Kat down the last few steps and aimed her toward the miserable martyr. She tried to look away and rip out of Henson's grip with scratches but Henson quickly grabbed her arms and held them across her body in a sort of a restrained hug. Then Henson whispered in Kat's ear.
K. L. Henson: Shhh...Kat, it's going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. This is how we are going to reform the world. It might not be an Obi, or an Andre, or a Dag but don't be mistaken. This man is not innocent. No one is. He is guilty of fighting the grain of the world, of keeping all of us into unifying into the great controlled collective we are becoming! Shhh...This is our future...
Kat slowly stopped struggling and looked to Randy who was currently unconscious up on the cross. Henson proceeded to lightly sway her back and forth while softly humming in her ear.
This is our future. This is our mission. Henson provides! Henson saves! The Christ has been reborn!