Post by khardaway on Dec 14, 2009 2:07:18 GMT -5
So here goes...before I mention anything, you may want to check your logic at the door. But hey, it's the quality of it that counts, right?
1.) Yes, if I were you and not caught up on anything, go back and read my previous RP’s. You don’t have to if you don’t want, just know that you’ll probably most likely have a headache, haha.
2.) Probably the most important thing in this, the girl you see in the pictures below, she’s a good friend of mine. I got her permission to use her likeness and such in this. Sure she has no idea what e-fedding even is, but she was awesome enough to let me do this. Hell, this series of RP's was actually a mix of both of our ideas. Her character’s personality is actually her personality. So, if you have anything bad to say about her, I’ll punch you, because, well, she’s seriously one of the kindest, nicest, sweetest people I’ve ever had a chance of talking to.
1.) Yes, if I were you and not caught up on anything, go back and read my previous RP’s. You don’t have to if you don’t want, just know that you’ll probably most likely have a headache, haha.
2.) Probably the most important thing in this, the girl you see in the pictures below, she’s a good friend of mine. I got her permission to use her likeness and such in this. Sure she has no idea what e-fedding even is, but she was awesome enough to let me do this. Hell, this series of RP's was actually a mix of both of our ideas. Her character’s personality is actually her personality. So, if you have anything bad to say about her, I’ll punch you, because, well, she’s seriously one of the kindest, nicest, sweetest people I’ve ever had a chance of talking to.
Do I even want to ask what the hell happened the last time you saw me? Should I even tell you about what happened the last time? Well, let me tell you what happened. It involved me finding a condom, based off a drunken binge with my therapist. I’m not sure how I got into a binge in the first place when I’m straight edge to begin with, so either somebody spiked my drink or somebody was playing tricks with my head. I’m really hoping it was the former, because all I have to do is find the culprit and bash his fuckin’ head in with a tire iron. See, nothing bad about that, right?
BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE!
Not only do I get the anti-climatic twist of my therapist actually sleeping with me, but the second she leaves, she ends up crossing paths with the devil’s little slut...known to the human eye as Angie...walking into a hotel room of her own. Conflicted, pissed off, and all of the other good shit you get with rage all came into one big giant ball and hit me like a sack of bricks. What that means was I rushed over to that room and busted the door open, and what do my eyes deceive me at seeing with my retinas?
Angie...with Zak Warner. You all know Zak right? My former companion, my former friend, the bastard who saved my life from dropping down into a sewer of grime and mold known as my career. That Zak Warner.
Now what she was doing with Zak was beyond me, and beyond Sarah’s control. But that giant ball of rage that was filling up with something inside me, burst like an appendix, and I didn’t care anymore. I rushed at him like a bat out of hell and Angie did the same to Sarah.
Yeah, we should’ve planned it out instead of just going in cold turkey and trying to do something about it. Instead of showing you the fight, I’ll just let you know that nobody won the fight. Every single one of us got completely massacred. If I could show you Zak and Angie right now, they’re probably in the same condition...bruised up, black eye, cuts. Not only that, but Zak’s hotel room is completely trashed to oblivion. Hey, maybe I won the fight after all. My hotel room wasn’t the setting of battle.
Nice little tiebreaker there if I say so myself. I’ll take any moral victory every day of the calendar.
But, now comes the grueling part. Dealing with the pain and the agony kicking in. During any fight, nothing but adrenaline comes and kicks you where the sun shines, and it’s the best feeling in the world, a feeling like you could bench press a Mack truck. But once that wears off, you need the fix. Fortunately, I don’t get the fix, nor I want adrenaline everywhere I go. The adrenaline came because I got myself into a situation I couldn’t get out of.
Anyways, enough about the fight and enough about everything else. Me and Sarah are back in my hotel room, sprawled out across the bed. Nothing perverted is going on, so don’t hold your breath. Just laying there, looking up at the ceiling. Well, me at least because Sarah is out, sleeping diagonally, her feet propped up against my legs. But I’m still awake, looking up at the ceiling. The plain, white ceiling. The TV is on but barely audible, but I just want to not care about anything right now, just let me be.....
And I’m out like a lamp...slowly, but surely.
Now I’m not sure, but I thought I heard faint footsteps before I knocked myself out there, but...I was asleep before I could remember.
“Hey...wake up! Wake up, please? Homes. Homes, wake up. I need to talk to you, and I can't do it if you're unconscious. Semi-conscious, yeah, maybe, but completely unconscious? I'm not freaking Gabriel, I don't do sleepy shit.”
“Damn, I guess we have to do this the hard way, don’t we? All you could’ve done was wake up, but NOOOOOOO, we couldn’t do that, huh?”
“This should do the trick, because if it doesn’t, I swear on you...you’re going to have to cause a freaking hailstorm...inside. Yeah, I know it can’t be done inside a room, but...just trust me on this one.”
BOOM!
A cold rain...more like a freezing waterfall hits me directly on the face and snaps me awake from whatever lucid, mind-bender I was in, even though I don’t remember it, most likely from the blinding pain perhaps.
But that pain subsides, because when I open my eyes...there stands a young woman near my bedside, holding a water bottle in her hand. I couldn’t get a vision of who she was, but did it really matter when a random stranger was inside my hotel room. It didn’t matter if she was female or not. Either way, I jumped back and tried to grab the nearest hard thing to strike her with, but I couldn’t find anything. She kept standing there though and then she did something that I found to be quite bizarre.
She chuckled. She chuckled pretty good.
“What, was that too cold for you? Sorry, I don't remember much about being human and feeling anything, so...”
What did she just say? “Sorry, I don’t remember much about being human...” What the hell was going on? Really?
Either way, I started to rub my eyes until they were fully open and they could see everything in their sight. And once I regain my vision, I finally see what this young woman looks like.
She was dressed in mostly all black, from her suit-jacket with the rolled up sleeves, to her pants, to the shoes she was wearing, a pair of ballet-flats, and a t-shirt that had the cast of the late 1970's TV show, “Charlie’s Angels”. It was a weird choice of outfit, but nonetheless, she looked rather...elegant I suppose. There was a term that I couldn’t put my finger on, probably because I didn’t know what the word even was.
“Who....who...who are you?”
“Who? Actually it should be more like “what” instead of who. In the terms of the word “who”, it sounds like nobody knows you, when in turn...you should know me.”
“Ooookay then...WHAT are you?”
“I’m what people call a...divine and supernatural messenger from a deity, or other divine entity.”
“Which means...?”
The following of what this unknown woman is saying should be considered as mumbling, or talking to herself. Either which way, it’s cuckoo crazy.
“Which means...? Geez, they give me the rampant types all the time, don’t they?”
Then she looks at me again, that radiant stare of hers is an eyesore to me right now.
“An angel, homes.”
Really? Really? REALLY?? Ok, either my medication is at full tilt or something is definitely wrong with my brain pattern. I’m guessing it’s a little bit of both somehow. Anyways...I can’t help but laugh my ass off at this...seriously. She doesn’t buy it however.
“Really? An angel? Sent down from the heavens to guard me from whatever danger lurks ahead of me? Is that right?”
“Actually no. I was sent down to show you how to make the perfect pizza.”
Beautiful and a smartass. How nice of her to be that way...whatever she is.
“Really? Well, where are the toppings? Where is the dough? Are you just going to make an oven completely fall out of the sky? If you really are an angel, show me the goods.”
“You really want me to show you? Because I was being rather sarcastic.”
“I know, but I want proof that you’re this so-called “angel” that you keep telling me. By the way, if you are an angel...you have to be the most saccharine sarcastic angel I have ever laid eyes upon.”
“Oh, why thank you.”
Still being a smartass I see, Ms. Angel. Well then...
“Do you even know what saccharine even means?”
“Yeah.”
Saccharine - Adj. - Excessively sweet in action or disposition.
“I thought that word meant “strong-willed” or “free-being”. You know...independent.”
“Could mean that. Could mean I changed the definition of the word so that it means “super sweet” How about that?”
“Can angels change the definition of words like that?”
“Oh...hell no. I was just messing with you. Now come on, we got work to do. I was sent down here for a reason and I would rather get it over with so I don’t have to deal with it anymore.”
“And what was that reason?”
Oh, this is should be fucking fantastical of her. What book is she going to steal this from? Harry Potter? A TV show like Supernatural? What exactly?
“Well...ages ago. I say “ages” because we angels have no idea what time zone or what century we’re in. Hell, it took me a day to figure out where you were. Anyways, I was...”consorting” if you might call it with someone up there. His name is Indigo. Yes, somehow you turned a high-bearing prophet into a fucking color. Anyways...we’ve gotten into a heap of trouble up there, and our higher powers pretty much punished us. I don’t know what they did with Indigo. But with me, they told me to head down to this damn planet as a guardian angel. Well, long story short, I saw what problems you were having and I caved in. And well...here I am?”
Ok, so I shrugged my shoulders and started walking out of the hotel with her. Of course I took a pause and stared back at the sleeping body laying peacefully on the bed. Then again, the back of my head took a U-Turn and focused on her. Does she even know about this? Can she see this...angel? But before I could ask, the angel started talking for me.
“Don’t worry. She has no idea you’ll be gone. To her, it sounds like you’re still sleeping next to her. Awww, ain’t that cute?”
“Does everything you say have to turn into a sarcastic comment?”
“Hey. I like to keep it fresh, that’s all.”
“Cute.”
Very cute. But still a pain in the ass to me. I still have no idea if she’s just playing me for a sucker, or if she’s actually what she says she is. Either way, I expect to hear a sound clip in my head of Admiral Ackbar yelling from the top of his weird alien lungs...
Regardless and moving away from another random movie reference, I decided to walk with her. Hell, she was a complete stranger. I didn’t even know her name yet. I figured that I could’ve asked, but I was too busy trying to pinch myself to realize that this is all a fucking dream. By the way, I did pinch myself and nothing seemed to work. Oh well, I guess...
“So you know...I didn’t get one.”
“Didn’t get what?”
“Didn’t get a name.”
“Oh. Shit, I should’ve said something. I shouldn’t do that. Sometimes I feel like half of my brain has been surgically removed by a doctor without a practicing permit.”
Well...there’s a weird analogy for you. Weird analogy for anyone I guess.
“The name is Malika.”
“Malika?”
“Got a problem with that?”
“No, I’m just saying...it’s cute.”
“Oh. See, get it...I’m “Malika”? Huh?”
Whatever you say that ends up helping you sleep at night...or whatever weird, crazy shit that you angels do at night. Maybe I don’t want to know, it would help me millions right now.
So, avoiding more weird conversations, “Malika”, or “Mali” as she loves to be called, I guess...we get to the elevator that leads into the lobby area as she tells me to get inside. I still don’t believe her one second, and I still believe that she’s going to push the big ol’ red button and hold me up for everything I got. Then again, if it did happen, I could tell the story about how I was robbed by one of the most beautiful people that I’ve laid eyes on. I wonder if the police would believe that story for a second. It’s the kind of stuff that is only in make believe and fairy tales.
Much to my surprise, the elevator hits his location...and Mali presses the big red button that causes the elevator to stop and the doors to remain locked. Did I mention my sarcasm meter was at 11 at that point.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t know what, exactly. I mean, I think I know what I’m doing, but there’s a possibility that everything could go haywire and all hell would break loose. We don’t want that now, do we?”
Yep...I knew it.
“So...it was a ploy all along. You aren’t an angel at all. You’re just the world’s most gorgeous thief. You knew where I was staying, you know how much money I make, you know I work in the professional wrestling industry, I’m the prime for a wallet with cash loads inside it. I was played for a sucker, I admit it.”
I end up looking at her face, to my eyes behold...a look of complete bewilderment. A face of “What the fucking fuck did he just say to me?” A face of absolute shock and awe. A face of...ok, I’m getting completely in the moment here. Her face was one of those kinds of faces that would make the sternest man even break out into a fit of laughter. Then again, I wasn’t one to talk, as I started to laugh. Then she started to laugh.
“That gets them every single time. I so rock.”
“I’ll admit it...you got me fooled there for a second.”
“Really now?”
Then...she actually pulls a gun out of her coat pocket. A real life 9mm. The ones you see cops use, the ones in the movies. I immediately freaked out inside my head. I had no idea what the hell to do. I couldn’t go anywhere, do anything. If I pushed that red button, she was going to paint the elevators with the colors of my insides. I had to do nothing, but freeze up. But it didn’t help as her face of joy and playfulness turned into despair and agony. She cocked the gun back and pointed it dead on the temple of my forehead. I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t wake up.
Guess it was time to pay the piper for what it was worth.
I close my eyes.
She fires...
...something cold into my temple.
Water?
I open my eyes and...yep, she’s squirting water into the side of head. I don’t think I’ve been more relieved of that in all my life. Then again, I haven’t been more frightened to shit in all my life. She starts to laugh again...this time, I’m not joining her.
“God damn you...that’s not funny.”
“HEY! Watch your language there, kiddo.”
“Why did you do that?”
“Because...I could. You really thought I was going to steal your money?”
“Umm....YEAH!”
“Geez...some people. Your money is no good to us.”
“Yeah. I forgot...you’re an angel. Then what was with the gun?”
“This thing? I’ve had this toy for years...or centuries...or months...I don’t know...fucking time differences.”
“Well...since you’re not going to rob me, can we please get out of this elevator, I’m starting to feel...”
“Claustrophobic.”
Ok...that was a new trick I’ve never seen before.
“How did you...”
“I mean, it’s not like some people I guarded before in my life, but it starts to happen if you’re cramped in for long periods of time.”
Ok, I’m a little stumped here. Like she said, it’s not a major problem. I’m not like some people where if they immediately get enclosed into a small room, they flip the hell out. I don’t mind small rooms. But if I’m in that room for awhile, then things start getting weird for me. And weird is the right definition for EVERYTHING that is going on right now and today.
“How did you know I was a little claustrophobic?”
“Babe...I know a lot of things about you that you have no idea. Now...what I’m about to show you, it may not be your cup of tea, but I was asked by somebody up there, that I needed to show you this. So...let’s just get this out of the way. I’m sorry.”
Sorry? This can’t be good at all. She ends up behind me and puts both of her hands on my shoulders, whispering gently into my ear now. It’s kind of soothing...in a weird, sadistic fashion.
“Are you ready?”
I sigh. Let’s get this over with.
“Well then, put your seatbelt on and put your tray in the upright position, because we’re about to experience a little turbulence. Now if you may...press the button.”
She closes her eyes and I do what is told. I push the button. DING! The elevator door opens, to a bright light that almost blinds me right then and there, so I close my eyes. But the second I open them, it reveals...
Well...that's for later. OMGZ CLIFFHANGER!!!
BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE!
Not only do I get the anti-climatic twist of my therapist actually sleeping with me, but the second she leaves, she ends up crossing paths with the devil’s little slut...known to the human eye as Angie...walking into a hotel room of her own. Conflicted, pissed off, and all of the other good shit you get with rage all came into one big giant ball and hit me like a sack of bricks. What that means was I rushed over to that room and busted the door open, and what do my eyes deceive me at seeing with my retinas?
Angie...with Zak Warner. You all know Zak right? My former companion, my former friend, the bastard who saved my life from dropping down into a sewer of grime and mold known as my career. That Zak Warner.
Now what she was doing with Zak was beyond me, and beyond Sarah’s control. But that giant ball of rage that was filling up with something inside me, burst like an appendix, and I didn’t care anymore. I rushed at him like a bat out of hell and Angie did the same to Sarah.
Yeah, we should’ve planned it out instead of just going in cold turkey and trying to do something about it. Instead of showing you the fight, I’ll just let you know that nobody won the fight. Every single one of us got completely massacred. If I could show you Zak and Angie right now, they’re probably in the same condition...bruised up, black eye, cuts. Not only that, but Zak’s hotel room is completely trashed to oblivion. Hey, maybe I won the fight after all. My hotel room wasn’t the setting of battle.
Nice little tiebreaker there if I say so myself. I’ll take any moral victory every day of the calendar.
But, now comes the grueling part. Dealing with the pain and the agony kicking in. During any fight, nothing but adrenaline comes and kicks you where the sun shines, and it’s the best feeling in the world, a feeling like you could bench press a Mack truck. But once that wears off, you need the fix. Fortunately, I don’t get the fix, nor I want adrenaline everywhere I go. The adrenaline came because I got myself into a situation I couldn’t get out of.
Anyways, enough about the fight and enough about everything else. Me and Sarah are back in my hotel room, sprawled out across the bed. Nothing perverted is going on, so don’t hold your breath. Just laying there, looking up at the ceiling. Well, me at least because Sarah is out, sleeping diagonally, her feet propped up against my legs. But I’m still awake, looking up at the ceiling. The plain, white ceiling. The TV is on but barely audible, but I just want to not care about anything right now, just let me be.....
And I’m out like a lamp...slowly, but surely.
Now I’m not sure, but I thought I heard faint footsteps before I knocked myself out there, but...I was asleep before I could remember.
“Hey...wake up! Wake up, please? Homes. Homes, wake up. I need to talk to you, and I can't do it if you're unconscious. Semi-conscious, yeah, maybe, but completely unconscious? I'm not freaking Gabriel, I don't do sleepy shit.”
“Damn, I guess we have to do this the hard way, don’t we? All you could’ve done was wake up, but NOOOOOOO, we couldn’t do that, huh?”
“This should do the trick, because if it doesn’t, I swear on you...you’re going to have to cause a freaking hailstorm...inside. Yeah, I know it can’t be done inside a room, but...just trust me on this one.”
BOOM!
A cold rain...more like a freezing waterfall hits me directly on the face and snaps me awake from whatever lucid, mind-bender I was in, even though I don’t remember it, most likely from the blinding pain perhaps.
But that pain subsides, because when I open my eyes...there stands a young woman near my bedside, holding a water bottle in her hand. I couldn’t get a vision of who she was, but did it really matter when a random stranger was inside my hotel room. It didn’t matter if she was female or not. Either way, I jumped back and tried to grab the nearest hard thing to strike her with, but I couldn’t find anything. She kept standing there though and then she did something that I found to be quite bizarre.
She chuckled. She chuckled pretty good.
“What, was that too cold for you? Sorry, I don't remember much about being human and feeling anything, so...”
What did she just say? “Sorry, I don’t remember much about being human...” What the hell was going on? Really?
Either way, I started to rub my eyes until they were fully open and they could see everything in their sight. And once I regain my vision, I finally see what this young woman looks like.
She was dressed in mostly all black, from her suit-jacket with the rolled up sleeves, to her pants, to the shoes she was wearing, a pair of ballet-flats, and a t-shirt that had the cast of the late 1970's TV show, “Charlie’s Angels”. It was a weird choice of outfit, but nonetheless, she looked rather...elegant I suppose. There was a term that I couldn’t put my finger on, probably because I didn’t know what the word even was.
“Who....who...who are you?”
“Who? Actually it should be more like “what” instead of who. In the terms of the word “who”, it sounds like nobody knows you, when in turn...you should know me.”
“Ooookay then...WHAT are you?”
“I’m what people call a...divine and supernatural messenger from a deity, or other divine entity.”
“Which means...?”
The following of what this unknown woman is saying should be considered as mumbling, or talking to herself. Either which way, it’s cuckoo crazy.
“Which means...? Geez, they give me the rampant types all the time, don’t they?”
Then she looks at me again, that radiant stare of hers is an eyesore to me right now.
“An angel, homes.”
Really? Really? REALLY?? Ok, either my medication is at full tilt or something is definitely wrong with my brain pattern. I’m guessing it’s a little bit of both somehow. Anyways...I can’t help but laugh my ass off at this...seriously. She doesn’t buy it however.
“Really? An angel? Sent down from the heavens to guard me from whatever danger lurks ahead of me? Is that right?”
“Actually no. I was sent down to show you how to make the perfect pizza.”
Beautiful and a smartass. How nice of her to be that way...whatever she is.
“Really? Well, where are the toppings? Where is the dough? Are you just going to make an oven completely fall out of the sky? If you really are an angel, show me the goods.”
“You really want me to show you? Because I was being rather sarcastic.”
“I know, but I want proof that you’re this so-called “angel” that you keep telling me. By the way, if you are an angel...you have to be the most saccharine sarcastic angel I have ever laid eyes upon.”
“Oh, why thank you.”
Still being a smartass I see, Ms. Angel. Well then...
“Do you even know what saccharine even means?”
“Yeah.”
Saccharine - Adj. - Excessively sweet in action or disposition.
“I thought that word meant “strong-willed” or “free-being”. You know...independent.”
“Could mean that. Could mean I changed the definition of the word so that it means “super sweet” How about that?”
“Can angels change the definition of words like that?”
“Oh...hell no. I was just messing with you. Now come on, we got work to do. I was sent down here for a reason and I would rather get it over with so I don’t have to deal with it anymore.”
“And what was that reason?”
Oh, this is should be fucking fantastical of her. What book is she going to steal this from? Harry Potter? A TV show like Supernatural? What exactly?
“Well...ages ago. I say “ages” because we angels have no idea what time zone or what century we’re in. Hell, it took me a day to figure out where you were. Anyways, I was...”consorting” if you might call it with someone up there. His name is Indigo. Yes, somehow you turned a high-bearing prophet into a fucking color. Anyways...we’ve gotten into a heap of trouble up there, and our higher powers pretty much punished us. I don’t know what they did with Indigo. But with me, they told me to head down to this damn planet as a guardian angel. Well, long story short, I saw what problems you were having and I caved in. And well...here I am?”
Ok, so I shrugged my shoulders and started walking out of the hotel with her. Of course I took a pause and stared back at the sleeping body laying peacefully on the bed. Then again, the back of my head took a U-Turn and focused on her. Does she even know about this? Can she see this...angel? But before I could ask, the angel started talking for me.
“Don’t worry. She has no idea you’ll be gone. To her, it sounds like you’re still sleeping next to her. Awww, ain’t that cute?”
“Does everything you say have to turn into a sarcastic comment?”
“Hey. I like to keep it fresh, that’s all.”
“Cute.”
Very cute. But still a pain in the ass to me. I still have no idea if she’s just playing me for a sucker, or if she’s actually what she says she is. Either way, I expect to hear a sound clip in my head of Admiral Ackbar yelling from the top of his weird alien lungs...
Regardless and moving away from another random movie reference, I decided to walk with her. Hell, she was a complete stranger. I didn’t even know her name yet. I figured that I could’ve asked, but I was too busy trying to pinch myself to realize that this is all a fucking dream. By the way, I did pinch myself and nothing seemed to work. Oh well, I guess...
“So you know...I didn’t get one.”
“Didn’t get what?”
“Didn’t get a name.”
“Oh. Shit, I should’ve said something. I shouldn’t do that. Sometimes I feel like half of my brain has been surgically removed by a doctor without a practicing permit.”
Well...there’s a weird analogy for you. Weird analogy for anyone I guess.
“The name is Malika.”
“Malika?”
“Got a problem with that?”
“No, I’m just saying...it’s cute.”
“Oh. See, get it...I’m “Malika”? Huh?”
Whatever you say that ends up helping you sleep at night...or whatever weird, crazy shit that you angels do at night. Maybe I don’t want to know, it would help me millions right now.
So, avoiding more weird conversations, “Malika”, or “Mali” as she loves to be called, I guess...we get to the elevator that leads into the lobby area as she tells me to get inside. I still don’t believe her one second, and I still believe that she’s going to push the big ol’ red button and hold me up for everything I got. Then again, if it did happen, I could tell the story about how I was robbed by one of the most beautiful people that I’ve laid eyes on. I wonder if the police would believe that story for a second. It’s the kind of stuff that is only in make believe and fairy tales.
Much to my surprise, the elevator hits his location...and Mali presses the big red button that causes the elevator to stop and the doors to remain locked. Did I mention my sarcasm meter was at 11 at that point.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t know what, exactly. I mean, I think I know what I’m doing, but there’s a possibility that everything could go haywire and all hell would break loose. We don’t want that now, do we?”
Yep...I knew it.
“So...it was a ploy all along. You aren’t an angel at all. You’re just the world’s most gorgeous thief. You knew where I was staying, you know how much money I make, you know I work in the professional wrestling industry, I’m the prime for a wallet with cash loads inside it. I was played for a sucker, I admit it.”
I end up looking at her face, to my eyes behold...a look of complete bewilderment. A face of “What the fucking fuck did he just say to me?” A face of absolute shock and awe. A face of...ok, I’m getting completely in the moment here. Her face was one of those kinds of faces that would make the sternest man even break out into a fit of laughter. Then again, I wasn’t one to talk, as I started to laugh. Then she started to laugh.
“That gets them every single time. I so rock.”
“I’ll admit it...you got me fooled there for a second.”
“Really now?”
Then...she actually pulls a gun out of her coat pocket. A real life 9mm. The ones you see cops use, the ones in the movies. I immediately freaked out inside my head. I had no idea what the hell to do. I couldn’t go anywhere, do anything. If I pushed that red button, she was going to paint the elevators with the colors of my insides. I had to do nothing, but freeze up. But it didn’t help as her face of joy and playfulness turned into despair and agony. She cocked the gun back and pointed it dead on the temple of my forehead. I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t wake up.
Guess it was time to pay the piper for what it was worth.
I close my eyes.
She fires...
...something cold into my temple.
Water?
I open my eyes and...yep, she’s squirting water into the side of head. I don’t think I’ve been more relieved of that in all my life. Then again, I haven’t been more frightened to shit in all my life. She starts to laugh again...this time, I’m not joining her.
“God damn you...that’s not funny.”
“HEY! Watch your language there, kiddo.”
“Why did you do that?”
“Because...I could. You really thought I was going to steal your money?”
“Umm....YEAH!”
“Geez...some people. Your money is no good to us.”
“Yeah. I forgot...you’re an angel. Then what was with the gun?”
“This thing? I’ve had this toy for years...or centuries...or months...I don’t know...fucking time differences.”
“Well...since you’re not going to rob me, can we please get out of this elevator, I’m starting to feel...”
“Claustrophobic.”
Ok...that was a new trick I’ve never seen before.
“How did you...”
“I mean, it’s not like some people I guarded before in my life, but it starts to happen if you’re cramped in for long periods of time.”
Ok, I’m a little stumped here. Like she said, it’s not a major problem. I’m not like some people where if they immediately get enclosed into a small room, they flip the hell out. I don’t mind small rooms. But if I’m in that room for awhile, then things start getting weird for me. And weird is the right definition for EVERYTHING that is going on right now and today.
“How did you know I was a little claustrophobic?”
“Babe...I know a lot of things about you that you have no idea. Now...what I’m about to show you, it may not be your cup of tea, but I was asked by somebody up there, that I needed to show you this. So...let’s just get this out of the way. I’m sorry.”
Sorry? This can’t be good at all. She ends up behind me and puts both of her hands on my shoulders, whispering gently into my ear now. It’s kind of soothing...in a weird, sadistic fashion.
“Are you ready?”
I sigh. Let’s get this over with.
“Well then, put your seatbelt on and put your tray in the upright position, because we’re about to experience a little turbulence. Now if you may...press the button.”
She closes her eyes and I do what is told. I push the button. DING! The elevator door opens, to a bright light that almost blinds me right then and there, so I close my eyes. But the second I open them, it reveals...
Well...that's for later. OMGZ CLIFFHANGER!!!
