"FINE!" "FINE!"
I find myself walking by the river, tentacles hidden beneath my long green coat, trying to blow off some steam. After our argument, I slammed the door to his apartment and took off into the night, trying to run off the anger and the pain. For as much as I love him, he can make me so angry sometimes. Perhaps that's the sign that I truly care about him and what he thinks. Across the rooftops I fled, and the next thing I know, I'm walking by the river, about to cross under a bridge. I'm not sure which one.
I find myself walking through the bad side of town. After she left, escaped into the night, I couldn't stand to stay in that place. Too much reminds me of her. So I decided to go for a walk. Through back alleys, past crack dens and houses of ill repute. And now here I am, about to cross under the Johnson Bridge. I find myself walking here often when I need to think.
As I cross under it, I notice a small sound. I whip around, seeing 2 young men, almost boys really, wearing ski masks and brandishing heavy objects. This can't be good. This can't be good at all. I whip my head around and find 3 more approaching from the front. "We know who you are, Freak," one of them says. "We know who you associate with. And we don't like freaks like you." "Yeah. You're not welcome here." Suddenly, the charge at me, pipes and chains flying, trying to beat the shit outta me. My tentacles burst out from behind my coat, faster than thought, faster than lightening. With a primal scream, I attack.
I'm almost to the other side when I hear a voice. "Octavius. We meet at last." My tentacles show me a view of almost 360 degrees around me. I'm surrounded by cops. Cold eyed cops. This can't be good. They're brandishing their billy clubs. "You know, being a man of habit can get you into trouble with this new life you've chosen." They must have been observing my habits. They must have been waiting for me. A 3rd one speaks "You killed my partner, Octavius. Prepare to die." As they jump me, my tentacles extend their blades and engage in combat.
Under the bridge downtown is where I drew some blood.
For being such peaceful actuators, they sure are good at combat. They strike, fast, furious, blocking the blows of the young men and, the graspers forming balls like fists, they throw punches. Or perhaps I'm throwing punches. I mean, my hands have form fists and my arms are swinging. I find myself getting into the fight. In the low light, I see the ends of them glistening. Blood. The blood of my opponents.
My tentacles take them on easily. They're accustomed to fighting. In fact, they enjoy it, they relish it. As the slash at the officers, the blood runs down their blades like tears down the cheek of a person who has lost their lover.
Under the bridge downtown I could not get enough.
Blow after blow I rain down upon my attackers. I barely know who I am anymore, all that I am is a fighting machine. I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my body, my synapses lighting up like a Christmas tree. I scream in rage and continue my assault, going past the point of defense and mounting an offensive attack at these men. They don't know what they're dealing with here. They don't know all of the pent up anger and aggression in me, from the argument before, from the life I've lived. Over and over again I hit these boys. There is no such thing as enough anymore. I feel as if I can't be satiated.
I find myself falling more and more under their evil influences, their love of all things destructive taking me over. Death, mutilation, hacking, slashing, killing. I attack and attack and attack, a once defensive fight turning into a melee of endless rage. Blood goes everywhere. Body parts start to fly. There is no satisfying the terrible shine monsters attached to my back, wormed into my brain.
Under the bridge downtown forgot about my love.
There is nothing outside the fight anymore. I can't remember a time where fighting wasn't all that existed. Even though most of the men are on the ground, I'm still screaming, still beating the bloody pulp out of these men. Their screams have become quiet moans as I continue on my mission to grind their bodies to a red paste. Nothing else exists in my consciousness anymore. Nothing.
Hack and slash, hack and slash, hack and slash. As the screams of the officers became less and less numerous in the night, any hope of gaining control of my mind was gone. All of my new found pleasures, all of the things that matter to me go farther and farther away from me as the actuators' love of destruction rule my brain. I am no longer me anymore. I am Doctor Octopus, the other being that I despise with all of my being.
Under the bridge downtown I gave my life away.
And all is silent. I look around, breathing heavy, my senses returning to me. Five dead bodies surround me. Five. Dead. Bodies. I look down at my actuators. They are covered in blood. I am covered in blood. Five. Dead. Bodies. Did I? Was that? Did I cause that? Suddenly, a new scream pierces the night. My scream. My scream of incredulity, of pain, of sadness. There's no turning back now. I have killed. I have taken life. Any hope of a normal life vanished in the dark night. Suddenly, randomly, the lyrics of one of my favorite songs comes back to me.
And all is silent. I stop, gasping for breath. As I look around, the influence of the actuators grows less and less and I regain my mind, my sanity. It's then that I notice the officers. Dead. Dead. I have killed once again. And this time, I didn't need anything, I wasn't stealing anything, and I was fully conscious at the time. This time, it was me. Another scream pierces the night. My scream anguish, of pain, of sadness. And during the scream, randomly, the lyrics of one of her favorite songs comes back to me.
Under the bridge downtown I gave my life away.