He sits at his computer, listening to a track that he selected at random, wanting to do something with his time. He felt a slight mix or homicidal rage and deep sadness wash over him as the rhythm of the song embraces him. He shrugs it off, trying to focus on something to do tonight, wishing he had done something memorable throughout the day.
He glances at the clock.
8:08pm
He glances at it again,
8:09pm.
His mind lets out an irritated sigh as he adjusts his sitting position, crossing his leg, finding it slightly uncomfortable for a moment, then decides to sit with both legs on the floor. His right hand goes to his lip as he thinks for a moment, his eyes unfocused.
The next song starts, slower, sadder then the last one, a woman sings deep with passion. His mind begins to wander.
She screams, only to be muffled by the duct tape across her mouth.
Her arm is broken, her breasts and lower stomach etched with multiple cuts, red welts of blood drip down from her wounds.
Her eyes tell the real story, she's afraid of him.
Her eyes are filled with tears, locked in fear. Its the fear that excites him. He consumes that fact, devouring and gorging himself in her fear.
He approaches, she sobs and closes her eyes, as if she could make him disappear by simply not seeing him. She is mistaken, to think that he will stop. He lives for this.
He hits her again and again, his fist making satisfying wet wacks as he drives his knuckles against her face.
Hands move to her neck, he squeezes as hard as he can, her bloodied and swollen eyes go wide with shock. He looks her in the eyes, watching as the light leaves them.
The next song starts, he absentmindedly licks his lips.
Wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, it warms him.
He flips to another tab, typing in his login information and password.
The screen takes him to a HOME menu, he browses the pictures of people he hasn't seen in a while, thoughts filling him.
soon, he thinks, soon.
The bus rocks side to side, but as he is firmly seated, it doesn't cause him more then a minor annoyance.
The bus comes to a stop and the door swings open. Two teenagers pass him and exit, his eyes follow their movements.
The hum of the engines powering the propellers had a slightly soothing effect on him, somewhat in the same way white noise has on some people. A constant background noise, none too intrusive. The boat moves slowly but appears fast as the current provides an illusion of speed. A woman seated several seats behind him reads a story to her child. A fantasy book it seems, as the characters are talking about knights and dragons. A man walks past him, wearing a worn brown leather jacket and a red berray. His eyes glance up and he notices a young girl walking down the rows of seats, her back to him. Her dirty blond hair going slightly past her shoulders, her jeans tight and almost form fitting. His mind careens through possibilities as he watches her walk, her hips swaying with each step.
Again he looks out onto natural landscape, islands and trees and ocean water. He spots a lighthouse on a tiny island, wondering what horrors could be concealed in its basement.
He smirks subtly.
Smoke catches his eye, he turns his head and notices a large amount of white smoke, most likely camp fire smoke, rising from an island directly ahead.
He glances at his computer's power bar.
(42%)
Probably enough.
He glances at the clock; 10:26AM.
His eyes take in details of the people around him, counting as he does.
Eleven people ahead of him; The blond situated 6 seats ahead of him, then a man in a black hat and jacket, an old woman, and a woman with a french braid. The left row; young man in a black hood, then a short-haired man with glasses, a woman with curly brown-blond hair. Behind her sits a small, stout woman in a tight leather jacket. After her are a group of three, two older males and a woman in a pink sweater under a black vest.
Glancing up he takes note of the ventilation ducts, they seem large enough for him to fit.
Would be hard to get up there though, not viable.
Ahead his destination looms, he clenches his fist and closes his computer, a smirk again brushing his lips.