The man leaned over in agony and spat. Three teeth rolled across the concrete floor like ivory dice. Well, parts of three teeth anyway, mingled with blood. It had been going on for hours, and not even purpling his face with the steel pipe had stopped or even slowed any of it. His tattered clothing revealed the multifarious welts and gashes all over his body, inflicted previously in utter desperation.
“BUDGET EVERYONE COULD KING YAW!” The words flowed from his mind and mouth uncontrollably, while prostrate upon the ground on elbows and knees, tearing out hair by the roots. “GENERALLY OBVIOUS OUR LIFT SEND BLOCK YET!” No pattern! No pattern to it at all – I am loosing my mind! He manages to squeeze the thought between the gibberish. It had all started after a nice, yet unproductive evening of speed dating at a local bar. Sure, he had been under a little stress at work. Sure, he had been met with a few poignant rejections from women who really shouldn’t be choosey anyways. Sure he had had a few ‘comfort drinks’ to take off his edge. Sure that rash wouldn’t go away no matter what ointments…
“IN SHEET SHARE OLD FINDING EFFECTIVELY TEAM CLOSELY HEAD!!” This deluge had worn him out long before 10:30 and now it was well past midnight in the back-alley to which he had fled shortly after it had begun. “IMMEDIATE NOTHING GOD GLASS OUTPUT REQUIRE GUN EXPENSE ORGANISE UNDERSTANDING STAFF!!” Breath! Breath! Breath! Stop it! He knows he can’t take much more of this before his brain erupts as molten myelinated matter.
The nonsense breaks long enough for him to begin to catch his breath. He massages his abused throat, sore from all the hours of shouting, and wipes the tears of futility from his eyes. Well, maybe it’s finally stopped. He hopes to himself. The pain from his self-mutilation hits him all at once like an ocean liner of doom, causing his breath to come in gasps. After a moment of recovery, he shakily begins to lift himself from the crawling position. Suddenly, he pauses in horror, feeling another compulsion welling up inside himself.
Oh no!
Taking a deep breath, as loudly and as rapidly and uncontrollably as possible he shouts, “SYSTEM HOW EAT MEETING APPLICATION KID EXCEPT SOMEBODY MISS EXPRESSION FRIEND EITHER EXPERIMENT LONGEST NICE APPEARANCE USEFUL GATE HOUR TAKES YOUR–AAAUUGH!!!!”
–And something inside went snap! As his head jerks suddenly back, then forward, he completely collapses on the ground. He lies there, completely still, as the flies stare hungrily on the sidelines, awaiting their surprise man-buffet, for one full minute. The flies begin to congregate.
Rise.
The command is given silently, and the man slowly arises, much to the disappointment of the scattered flies. Head hanging limp, this is no longer a man, but an automaton. All independent thought wiped clean.
Come.
Commanded again in silence. Arms wagging limply as the automaton staggers gimpily. This beast now knows how to speak only a single response: ‘Master!’ Which upon uttering, no longer possessing either speech processing centers, sounds a little more like ‘Mmmmauuuuuuugghhnnnnn!” Arms spread out and forward, adoringly of course, when voiced.
Through the long hours of the city night, he trudges on to his commanded destination, an abandoned train graveyard on the outskirts of the dirtiest corner of town, to finally join ranks with dozens of other mind-numbed persons, all exhibiting similar disheveled and bloodied appearances.
Above and behind this motley crew looms an ominous shadow. A slender, twitching shadow sourced by He Who Commands in Silence. Even now, his plans are all coming to fruition with his newly-honed power. His army ranks grow slowly, steadily, like a festering cancer – if detected to late, will have disseminated throughout the system in numbers too high to combat, rendering resistance futile. A New Order will arise with him at the head, wielding indomitable power. With merely a point of his finger and a grunt, entire cities – NO! – Nations will crumble and fall at his command! All will bow and pray mercy from the Mighty Emperor of the World! Unlimited channels of Direct TV and let’s not get to far ahead of the game here.
He regains composure, yet upon brief reflection, begins anew a low, steady chuckle.
All in good time. He humors himself, All in good time.
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