Everything is gone. There are no more beginnings, and no more happy
endings. It is only ugliness and fornication. Why have I forgotten you? My
father, my mother…. There is nothing left but shadows. I stare at my
fingernails and see snakes. Why won't they leave? The snakes wrap around me
until I am one of them, one of the demon creatures. I am twisted and ugly.
The only thing I have are my eyes. My eyes are human. One eye sees the
truth, one eye sees prophecies wrapped in mist. I am waiting for the one of
my dreams, my visions. The man who sees the past….
*
"Hello, Sister," I say as I stare into the pasty face of a nun, "I must request something of your church. You see, I am on a business trip with a man and we were to share a bed. He promised to be a gentlemen, but I found him quite lecherous. Can you give me a room for the night?"
She blinked in surprise, then gave me a kind smile. "Of course, child," she answered as she placed an arm upon my shoulder and began to lead me down a hall. "Right this way. We will find a priest and he can tell us where to bed you." She turned to me with concern. "I'm afraid we haven't much to offer."
I smile as though I am a victim and say, "I understand. No worries," laughing softly I, add, "Right?"
Her smile grows softer and wider, her lids covering her eyes in sympathy. "Of course, my child." Perhaps it was wrong of me to take comfort in her sympathy. I felt no need for it. It was just so nice to have someone genuinely care for you. How sad that my care had to come from a stranger.
She took me into a room and told me to wait there while she spoke to the Father. It was a small room, with a desk, a few scattered chairs and bulletin board. It must be where they taught Sunday school. There was a window and, staring from it, I could see the people milling across the street like damnable ants. There where cars and zip crafts flooding the streets and the air. I took notice as a few landed near the church. They seemed familiar….
*
"Jet," Spike said with a cool confidence, "I'll check the upstairs and see if anyone has seen her. You check the downstairs."
"Right." He nodded, then turned to Faye. "Hey, you check the congregation and see if anyone fitting this Rosary woman's description is singing 'alleluia' with the rest of them. Got it?"
She nodded. "Yeah, right." She was the first to go. Covering her eyes in blackened shades, she calmly walked through the aisle, ignoring the startled looks of people who seemed to notice her outfit.
"What's that slutty looking thing doing in a church?" she heard someone whisper. She turned to see who would say such an unholy thing, but rather a face in the crowd caught her eye. It was a woman who looked to be about 20 or 25. Her hair was tightly fixed into an inky black bun. Faye smiled and pushed her way through the sea of bodies.
"Hey!"
"Watch it, girl!"
"How rude can you get?!"
"Hey, baby, you are looking good…."
Faye ignored the calls and licked her lips when she reached the turned bounty head. "Rosary, you are under arrest!" She yelled as she grabbed her shoulder and flung her around.
"Aieeee! Nani?!" It was an Asian girl. Faye sighed.
"Uh," she laughed, "Sorry. Gomen. Shing shaw, or whatever. It–uh- won't happen again."
The woman raised a fist. "Zamawomiro!"
*
Jet turned the corner with a glare. He knew he had heard *something. "Oh, God, my heart is gonna give up on me. I'm too old to be doing stuff like this." He wavered when he heard the sudden move of a creature behind him. He turned quickly. He saw something….there! He raised his gun to shoot at the next breathing thing, and then he saw it! He saw it! He dropped his gun in shock and stared straight into the eyes of…a cocker spaniel?
*
"Rosary," Spike whistled, making a little ditty as he quietly strolled up the steps. He knew she was up here, and he began to sing. "Rosary, the Catholic rose; wherever you are, only I know; 20 million a head; you cannot be dead; Rosary, I want you." He heard a noise overhead and was not willing to risk an ambush, and a defeat, at the hands of a woman. Slowly he drew a Desert Eagle and began to make his move.
*
I heard the whistling and thought it perhaps my imagination. Such a lovely tune. Yet I could then hear clicks on the steps. My ears may have been betraying me, or maybe I was just neurotic, but I thought I could hear the cocking of a .50AE Magnum. I had watched three people enter the mass from those zip crafts. Still I hadn't a clue of who they were. Not only did the crafts, themselves, seem familiar, but the people struck a chord as well. I was sure I did not know who the woman was, but those men. She could almost remember the man with the prosthetic from a battle long ago…perhaps he was, at one time, a cop. But he seemed a little old for having been my pursuer once. I let it go.
But the other. He seemed so familiar, like I knew him well, but never had met him. Still, it was futile to think of these things when it was obvious there was danger coming about. I reached into my handbag and pulled out an Iron Cross, the best handgun I knew to exist, and shoved the barrel into the air in front of me. If anyone planned on coming in here, they would have to get through a hellfire of bullets and blood.
There was a turn of the knob…Carefully, I took aim, cocked, and squeezed the trigger. The bullet traveled through the door with perfect ease and I could hear nothing. There was no slump of a body, and I was disappointed until I remembered that the nun was planning on returning. Fear gripped my heart. I was a ruthless hunter, but a rattlesnake never kills what they cannot eat. I brought my gun to my side and ran to the door. I flung it open and ran straight into the barrel of a Desert Eagle.
"Hello, Rosary."
The voice was calm and straight. I looked at a man with fuzzy green hair. The one who I had seen walk into the church with those others. He smiled like a demon who had found a soul to corrupt. "I would suggest you drop your gun. I cannot kill you, but I can wound you severely. They'll be feeding you from a tube."
I glared, but what could I do? I dropped my Cross, my shield. But I was ready. I would find a way out of this. And if I didn't, I had it all worked out for Dalzell to take the fall. I would do 3 years, tops. He told me to straighten myself, and I did so. He turned me round and slapped cuffs upon my wrists, a little tight for my taste, but able. "Now," he said, "You will take us to find Dalzell."
My mind worked quickly. There must have been a bounty only if we were together. "Of course, Mr.-uh, what would I call you?"
"Just call me Spike."
"Well, Spike," I continued, "Dalzell is meeting with some associates in an unspecified-to-me location. He'll be back tomorrow, and I'll take you to him then."
"Is this a ploy?"
He sounded angry, so I softened my voice. "Why," I laughed, " Would I care if that man was taken in? He's the ringleader. He'll be taking the rap."
Spike seemed satisfied and turned me back around. Slowly, I looked into his eyes. Quietly I gasped.
"What?" He looked at me with annoyance.
"You…" I began. I took a deep breath. "You're eyes are different colors."
He laughed. "Yeah," he said, "One eye sees the present, the other sees-"
"The other sees the past."
*
"Hello, Sister," I say as I stare into the pasty face of a nun, "I must request something of your church. You see, I am on a business trip with a man and we were to share a bed. He promised to be a gentlemen, but I found him quite lecherous. Can you give me a room for the night?"
She blinked in surprise, then gave me a kind smile. "Of course, child," she answered as she placed an arm upon my shoulder and began to lead me down a hall. "Right this way. We will find a priest and he can tell us where to bed you." She turned to me with concern. "I'm afraid we haven't much to offer."
I smile as though I am a victim and say, "I understand. No worries," laughing softly I, add, "Right?"
Her smile grows softer and wider, her lids covering her eyes in sympathy. "Of course, my child." Perhaps it was wrong of me to take comfort in her sympathy. I felt no need for it. It was just so nice to have someone genuinely care for you. How sad that my care had to come from a stranger.
She took me into a room and told me to wait there while she spoke to the Father. It was a small room, with a desk, a few scattered chairs and bulletin board. It must be where they taught Sunday school. There was a window and, staring from it, I could see the people milling across the street like damnable ants. There where cars and zip crafts flooding the streets and the air. I took notice as a few landed near the church. They seemed familiar….
*
"Jet," Spike said with a cool confidence, "I'll check the upstairs and see if anyone has seen her. You check the downstairs."
"Right." He nodded, then turned to Faye. "Hey, you check the congregation and see if anyone fitting this Rosary woman's description is singing 'alleluia' with the rest of them. Got it?"
She nodded. "Yeah, right." She was the first to go. Covering her eyes in blackened shades, she calmly walked through the aisle, ignoring the startled looks of people who seemed to notice her outfit.
"What's that slutty looking thing doing in a church?" she heard someone whisper. She turned to see who would say such an unholy thing, but rather a face in the crowd caught her eye. It was a woman who looked to be about 20 or 25. Her hair was tightly fixed into an inky black bun. Faye smiled and pushed her way through the sea of bodies.
"Hey!"
"Watch it, girl!"
"How rude can you get?!"
"Hey, baby, you are looking good…."
Faye ignored the calls and licked her lips when she reached the turned bounty head. "Rosary, you are under arrest!" She yelled as she grabbed her shoulder and flung her around.
"Aieeee! Nani?!" It was an Asian girl. Faye sighed.
"Uh," she laughed, "Sorry. Gomen. Shing shaw, or whatever. It–uh- won't happen again."
The woman raised a fist. "Zamawomiro!"
*
Jet turned the corner with a glare. He knew he had heard *something. "Oh, God, my heart is gonna give up on me. I'm too old to be doing stuff like this." He wavered when he heard the sudden move of a creature behind him. He turned quickly. He saw something….there! He raised his gun to shoot at the next breathing thing, and then he saw it! He saw it! He dropped his gun in shock and stared straight into the eyes of…a cocker spaniel?
*
"Rosary," Spike whistled, making a little ditty as he quietly strolled up the steps. He knew she was up here, and he began to sing. "Rosary, the Catholic rose; wherever you are, only I know; 20 million a head; you cannot be dead; Rosary, I want you." He heard a noise overhead and was not willing to risk an ambush, and a defeat, at the hands of a woman. Slowly he drew a Desert Eagle and began to make his move.
*
I heard the whistling and thought it perhaps my imagination. Such a lovely tune. Yet I could then hear clicks on the steps. My ears may have been betraying me, or maybe I was just neurotic, but I thought I could hear the cocking of a .50AE Magnum. I had watched three people enter the mass from those zip crafts. Still I hadn't a clue of who they were. Not only did the crafts, themselves, seem familiar, but the people struck a chord as well. I was sure I did not know who the woman was, but those men. She could almost remember the man with the prosthetic from a battle long ago…perhaps he was, at one time, a cop. But he seemed a little old for having been my pursuer once. I let it go.
But the other. He seemed so familiar, like I knew him well, but never had met him. Still, it was futile to think of these things when it was obvious there was danger coming about. I reached into my handbag and pulled out an Iron Cross, the best handgun I knew to exist, and shoved the barrel into the air in front of me. If anyone planned on coming in here, they would have to get through a hellfire of bullets and blood.
There was a turn of the knob…Carefully, I took aim, cocked, and squeezed the trigger. The bullet traveled through the door with perfect ease and I could hear nothing. There was no slump of a body, and I was disappointed until I remembered that the nun was planning on returning. Fear gripped my heart. I was a ruthless hunter, but a rattlesnake never kills what they cannot eat. I brought my gun to my side and ran to the door. I flung it open and ran straight into the barrel of a Desert Eagle.
"Hello, Rosary."
The voice was calm and straight. I looked at a man with fuzzy green hair. The one who I had seen walk into the church with those others. He smiled like a demon who had found a soul to corrupt. "I would suggest you drop your gun. I cannot kill you, but I can wound you severely. They'll be feeding you from a tube."
I glared, but what could I do? I dropped my Cross, my shield. But I was ready. I would find a way out of this. And if I didn't, I had it all worked out for Dalzell to take the fall. I would do 3 years, tops. He told me to straighten myself, and I did so. He turned me round and slapped cuffs upon my wrists, a little tight for my taste, but able. "Now," he said, "You will take us to find Dalzell."
My mind worked quickly. There must have been a bounty only if we were together. "Of course, Mr.-uh, what would I call you?"
"Just call me Spike."
"Well, Spike," I continued, "Dalzell is meeting with some associates in an unspecified-to-me location. He'll be back tomorrow, and I'll take you to him then."
"Is this a ploy?"
He sounded angry, so I softened my voice. "Why," I laughed, " Would I care if that man was taken in? He's the ringleader. He'll be taking the rap."
Spike seemed satisfied and turned me back around. Slowly, I looked into his eyes. Quietly I gasped.
"What?" He looked at me with annoyance.
"You…" I began. I took a deep breath. "You're eyes are different colors."
He laughed. "Yeah," he said, "One eye sees the present, the other sees-"
"The other sees the past."
