"Jeez...... What a dump!"
It truly was, Irk that is, and it still is one! HA! HA! That night I slept in a computer-generated cardboard box, but I couldn't sleep at all. I peaked through a hole in the box, seeing all around the streets I saw groups of homeless Irkens, crazy or drunk. Or both, but either way they creeped me out. I did not realize then that this night will change my life forever.
"Huh...who are you? I'm scared, and I can't wrest!" I whimpered in my infant accent, as one hobo came in from a dark, threatening shadow. I expected one of them to notice them, but I did not know what things to expect me to do to get away from him.
"Hey, foxy Irken chick! You're so young that I might be illegally abusing ya, but you would like to really dig it on with the master?"
I was so panicky I didn't know what to do, but a blood-rushing, mad like feeling came though my veins, and new words came upon my vocabulary drive. My red eyes glistened as I saw in the hobo's fist, a 4" Swiss army knife, made from the sharpest metals around, and at its cutting end was a stripe of rusty, but smoothly sharp iron end that made the process of cutting up giant sheep fast, but cool and deadly to the eye.
"You....bwitch! You're gonna go down with me here!!" I tried to threaten to him, so he would go away, but the confusion of a smeet swearing to him made him confused.
"...Wha?"
I grabbed the blade with one of my gloved arms tightly, sprang out of the box and did 2 flips in the air. But as I landed, my skeletal structure acted like rubber, and made to turned around the other way, facing the box. I slid back a little with my 2 feet and raised my arms up, holding the knife towards him.
I took a couple of breaths, I felt like I was some kind of ninja from the movies. "Over here!!" He only turned around his head just a little, but already his knife flew straight towards him, and went right through both the guy's cheeks, and it landed on the ground with a trail of blood.
"OW! Oh, my freaking god!! What did you do to me? Oh, god!! I'm bleeding!!"
I slid down on the ground, and the bloody knife went stabbing through his head. But because of my weak arms, it took about 12 stabs to get to the spot I wanted to go. His skull! (I'm so evil, aren't I?)
"Oh, goddamn it!! FUCK YOU!!!" I couldn't believe he had the capability to swear at this point, "What are you doing....UGH!!" He gargled a bit, coughing up gushes of Irken blood from his throat.
"He's getting all drippy drip with blood! Bettar not trip or die on the ashes around the Rosie!! He, He, He!!" For my final act, I engraved on the skull a symbol that would always represent me and who I am and will be for the rest of my days. A devil's tail circling around a tall and thin gravestone, and just to be nice, I carved in RIP into the gravestone.
I made my first murder in my entire life. Sure, I shot cannons that put millions on to their death beds, but the computer in the cannon itself killed them all, not me. All I did back then was drove it around and make sure it didn't get stolen. I killed this jackass all by myself, with my very own muscles inside my skinny arms. I actually did it, I did not know exactly how I did it so Matrix-like, but I had down it, one and a half year old Irken Jil had murdered an adult Irken! I was so proud, I smiled and tears ran over my eyes. But soon more and more tears were coming and I was from proudly happy to sadly ashamed of my horrific and graphic crime.
"I'm a murderer! A murderer!! I'm guilty of all charges!! Oh, what have Jil done!? Huh? What have jil done!?" I sobbed, half of the time sounding like an adult, and the other time sounding like the age I should act. "I went all baddy-bad like and killed that scary guy!! And why am Jil happy now? Jil happy now? JIL NOT HAPPY NOW!!!"
For the rest of the night, to hide my guilt, I slaughtered all 20 of the scary-looking ones on the street, and cleaned up every single evidence of murder commitment by morning. I wanted to lay down and close my eyes for just a moment, but my brain had told me from its Irken Body and Health section that Irkens are the only species in the Universe who can't, or even need, any form of sleep, which is one of the reasons why they are so successful at sneak attacks, one of the arts of war.
I was still upset though, and didn't understand why I acted homicidal last night, and became so interested in weapons and techniques of homicide. It was like a new me had been formed, and it came out of me whenever I felt, scared, disrespected or even angry, and I would just pick anyone at random, and cut their squeedly-spooch open and pour all the stuff out of it down through its mouth, and tie its head down to its legs so he/she wouldn't move at all. But I wasn't at all depressed anymore by this odd behavior as years and years went by, just curious, willing to know why it all happens to me. What goes on in that mind that forces myself to do horrific things to innocent people, at such a young, misunderstanding age?
It truly was, Irk that is, and it still is one! HA! HA! That night I slept in a computer-generated cardboard box, but I couldn't sleep at all. I peaked through a hole in the box, seeing all around the streets I saw groups of homeless Irkens, crazy or drunk. Or both, but either way they creeped me out. I did not realize then that this night will change my life forever.
"Huh...who are you? I'm scared, and I can't wrest!" I whimpered in my infant accent, as one hobo came in from a dark, threatening shadow. I expected one of them to notice them, but I did not know what things to expect me to do to get away from him.
"Hey, foxy Irken chick! You're so young that I might be illegally abusing ya, but you would like to really dig it on with the master?"
I was so panicky I didn't know what to do, but a blood-rushing, mad like feeling came though my veins, and new words came upon my vocabulary drive. My red eyes glistened as I saw in the hobo's fist, a 4" Swiss army knife, made from the sharpest metals around, and at its cutting end was a stripe of rusty, but smoothly sharp iron end that made the process of cutting up giant sheep fast, but cool and deadly to the eye.
"You....bwitch! You're gonna go down with me here!!" I tried to threaten to him, so he would go away, but the confusion of a smeet swearing to him made him confused.
"...Wha?"
I grabbed the blade with one of my gloved arms tightly, sprang out of the box and did 2 flips in the air. But as I landed, my skeletal structure acted like rubber, and made to turned around the other way, facing the box. I slid back a little with my 2 feet and raised my arms up, holding the knife towards him.
I took a couple of breaths, I felt like I was some kind of ninja from the movies. "Over here!!" He only turned around his head just a little, but already his knife flew straight towards him, and went right through both the guy's cheeks, and it landed on the ground with a trail of blood.
"OW! Oh, my freaking god!! What did you do to me? Oh, god!! I'm bleeding!!"
I slid down on the ground, and the bloody knife went stabbing through his head. But because of my weak arms, it took about 12 stabs to get to the spot I wanted to go. His skull! (I'm so evil, aren't I?)
"Oh, goddamn it!! FUCK YOU!!!" I couldn't believe he had the capability to swear at this point, "What are you doing....UGH!!" He gargled a bit, coughing up gushes of Irken blood from his throat.
"He's getting all drippy drip with blood! Bettar not trip or die on the ashes around the Rosie!! He, He, He!!" For my final act, I engraved on the skull a symbol that would always represent me and who I am and will be for the rest of my days. A devil's tail circling around a tall and thin gravestone, and just to be nice, I carved in RIP into the gravestone.
I made my first murder in my entire life. Sure, I shot cannons that put millions on to their death beds, but the computer in the cannon itself killed them all, not me. All I did back then was drove it around and make sure it didn't get stolen. I killed this jackass all by myself, with my very own muscles inside my skinny arms. I actually did it, I did not know exactly how I did it so Matrix-like, but I had down it, one and a half year old Irken Jil had murdered an adult Irken! I was so proud, I smiled and tears ran over my eyes. But soon more and more tears were coming and I was from proudly happy to sadly ashamed of my horrific and graphic crime.
"I'm a murderer! A murderer!! I'm guilty of all charges!! Oh, what have Jil done!? Huh? What have jil done!?" I sobbed, half of the time sounding like an adult, and the other time sounding like the age I should act. "I went all baddy-bad like and killed that scary guy!! And why am Jil happy now? Jil happy now? JIL NOT HAPPY NOW!!!"
For the rest of the night, to hide my guilt, I slaughtered all 20 of the scary-looking ones on the street, and cleaned up every single evidence of murder commitment by morning. I wanted to lay down and close my eyes for just a moment, but my brain had told me from its Irken Body and Health section that Irkens are the only species in the Universe who can't, or even need, any form of sleep, which is one of the reasons why they are so successful at sneak attacks, one of the arts of war.
I was still upset though, and didn't understand why I acted homicidal last night, and became so interested in weapons and techniques of homicide. It was like a new me had been formed, and it came out of me whenever I felt, scared, disrespected or even angry, and I would just pick anyone at random, and cut their squeedly-spooch open and pour all the stuff out of it down through its mouth, and tie its head down to its legs so he/she wouldn't move at all. But I wasn't at all depressed anymore by this odd behavior as years and years went by, just curious, willing to know why it all happens to me. What goes on in that mind that forces myself to do horrific things to innocent people, at such a young, misunderstanding age?
