"Yes, I couldn't have said it better," Yuri said. "I look outside and online- and I get the feeling that all of these expectations have been pushed on us; especially the younger generation. We treat loneliness and depression as public enemy number one and encourage our kids towards happiness. With all good intentions, of course. However, I tried to find other solutions- well, tried to explore everything there is to know about this particular topic in the book. Our main character definitely asks some tough questions."
"I got the sense that Saoirse (Sur-sha) viewed loneliness as a necessary precondition at the end of the novel, personally?"
"Mmm, only for her. She found that, as one is regularly hungry and full, bored and entertained, she needed to experience loneliness for the opposite to hold any value. But this isn't what I was trying to convey. I was trying to get the reader to look at their own lives like they were an outsider looking in, much like our heroine does. So that they can find their own key that unlocks their own chains, because someone else's wont work."
"Eloquently said. For some happiness might not be the meaning of life, for some they might need to be lonely and depressed to be truly motivated. To find and do things that are meaningful to them."
"Yes! I also explore much more themes regarding broader modern societal issues, with the help of my clinical psychologist friend Doctor Sayori Aimoto."
"We would love to have you two on the show next time. Ah, unfortunately, we have reached the two hour mark here, so we're gonna have to go our separate ways I'm afraid-"
"-my God, already?"
"Yuri Damagrafik, it has been a pleasure having you on the podcast."
"The pleasure's all mine!"
"When can we expect another award-winning novel from you?"
"Haha...ah...I have no idea. I think I'll take a vacation with my husband.~"
"Well deserved. Thank you for listening everyone."
"Thank you!"
The muscles in her body turned into jello. She felt the coldness of the desk on her cheek. With that, she was free. Well, she was always 'free'. Turns out Yuri didn't really have social anxiety. All she needed was something that she and her listener both deeply cared about for the words to flow out of her mouth as naturally as she breathed.
Careful, content-filled words that had millions of people watching online. In fact, she seemed to have her first fan under her desk already.
"...honey...," she moaned quietly, letting the bliss 'flavor' her rational thought. She just couldn't comprehend how many people were watching. Was her hair done right? Oh no, she was definitely way too close to the mic. Speaking of, it probably didn't sound that great either because it was a cheap hundred dollar mic-
"Ow!," she yelped. "MC, you-"
"You're worrying again, aren't you?" He shot her a grin. The meaning of such an expression being: 'I know you inside out and backwards, and you cannot hide anything from me.'
"How dare you!" She did her best Greta Thunberg impression, albeit with a smile that was a step away from bursting into laughter. "No looking into my mind!"
"Woah, so many books in here," MC remarked. He climbed up from between Yuri's slender legs. "Relatively clean, but could do with better categoriza-"
He crossed the tripwire that would activate when his mouth was perfectly level with hers. She pulled his head towards her and could only express her joy and nervousness and everything in between with the noises that escaped their interlocked lips. There may as well been fireworks booming in the background. Because Yuri had just sold 25,000 copies of her new novel: "Saoirse's Liminal Space from Hell". Within the week. Fuck profit. Fuck notoriety. Fuck all the time spent re-writing this and checking that. Because all this was MC's win as much as it was hers. And that was all she cared about. She finally made him proud.
"Dar-ling," MC whispered. "Are those tears of joy? I'm so. So. SO SO SO PROUD OF YOU. You did it Yu. You fucking did it!"
"We did it," she cried. "I couldn't have done it without you. You and your hard work and your delicious food and your back rubs and holy moly I love you so much!"
Indeed, if it weren't for Sayori and Natsuki 'bang-bang-bang!'-ing on the door the minute the livestream ended for them, the married couple definitely would've made love with their spare copies strewn all over the bed- American Beauty style. But party night with the DDLC crew sounded even better. Sans Monika.
"Where is that woman..."
"She's watching a p...p-podcast upstairs. It seemed imp...imp...portant. Are you gonna b-bother her?"
He looked at his colleague like he had 'annoying' written on his forehead. "Grow a pair. Like she's gonna do anything the day before."
Our questioner climbed up the rusty ladder to get onto the second story of the warehouse. Actually, it was just a dozen planks of wood laid perpendicular against the metal 'H' beams that supported the ceiling. A little makeshift crack of the typical grueling workday. Employees could get away with smoking anything they wished, away from the prying eyes of their boss. There was barely enough space between them and the corrugated roofing above for him to crouch walk towards the very end. Where a blue light shone brightly on Monika's sleep deprived face.
"Monika? Hello?," he called. He tapped her on the shoulder but she was dead still. A feminine voice buzzed out the cheap earphones she was wearing.
"Haha...ah...I have no idea. I think I'll take a vacation with my husband.~"
"Well deserved. Thank you for listening everyone."
"Thank you!"
The brunette smiled and took her earphones out. "Sorry. Live podcast. What is it?"
Looking into the emerald eyes froze him like a deer in the headlights. Maybe it was the smile? No no, it was the fact that despite her dishevelled appearance, every single facial muscle clicked into the same spot they were in when they first met. This mask of professional politeness that made it impossible for him to judge her. While he wore his emotions on his sleeve.
"I...don't know," he said.
"That's okay~!," she hummed. "Ah. This woman?" She pointed to the phone. "She beat me up yesterday...haha. Left cuts and bruises all over my torso."
"Okay. Are you going to sleep? I suppose...you know. Seeing as this is our last day and all...we had to talk at least once."
"...you're not getting cold feet are you?," she joked.
"Why are you doing this? Someone like you, someone who has everything going for them. You're gorgeous head to toe. You could've...could've been anything if you wanted to. And you're throwing it all away."
"Aw...I appreciate the compliment!," Monika giggled. "It's been a long time since I heard anything genuine from another person."
"Why?"
"Why? The compliment you mean?"
"No, why are you throwing it away."
"You're not about to feel sorry for me are you?"
"No."
She tucked her knees into her chest and let out a long sigh. "Why are you doing it?"
"You know why."
"Huh? N-No, I really don't! I mean, I don't exactly know what it feels like to be you but-"
"-really? You can't imagine what it would feel like? Whatever, just tell me why."
"You think you'll prove some point if you know?," Monika whispered. "Life is so unbearable that even the pretty ones will shoot up a school?"
"I think you're weak," he growled. "I think something didn't go right for you, for once in your life, that you were drawn to this."
Her ire was beginning to show through her façade. She could feel the lightness- the same lightness most people keep their conversations on, slipping through her hands. "My...you incel types are insufferable. You think the only thing that matters in life is looks. What kind of shallow view of human beings do you have?"
"It's not the only thing that matters. But it sure makes life a lot easier."
"Sure. And yes. You're right, but it hardly says much. Nothing went right for me or everyone. Despite my looks, as you say." She leaned in close so that their faces were inches apart.
"I'll tell you," she whispered. "But you have to take off that wire you're wearing."
To say he was pissing his pants would be an understatement. 'How?', he thought, over and over again, liking the woman to be more of a God than God himself. In fact, Monika was the reason God was hiding in Heaven. And now here she was, straddling his lap. She definitely had a knife behind his back too. Over the course of several days, it wasn't too difficult to link a string of murders in and around the Sydney area: beatings, stabbings, men shot dead in a dingy apartment. All to this woman. This was just the final nail in the coffin. An admission of intent.
He thought of his wife and only child and the future that they would be deprived of and he began sobbing like he had never done before.
"Carefully now," she cooed as he removed the pack and wire from his person. She made sure the batteries were taken out of the transmitter, and that his phone was turned off. "Cute wallpaper.~ How old?"
"Two and half."
"What's her name?"
"C-Chloe." The mention of her name punched him in the gut.
"Ah. She looks like a Chloe! How cute~!"
He grit his teeth. "Stop playing games Monika," he pleaded. "You don't give a shit about her. You don't give a shit about human life."
"Eh? No, I love children. Honest!" She put her hand to her heart and pouted. "I think they're adorable!"
"So you do have feelings after all. Please, call this whole thing off. You're about to kill children! Children, for God's sake!"
She kissed him on the lips and he shook like silverware in an earthquake. "Good. Damn this universe. To the lowest rungs of Hell. God wants to deny me my happiness? I can do the same," she scowled. Flight or fight. He was a man- a lot larger than the girl, so he could easily overpower her and pin her to the wooden flooring. For all of twenty seconds, that is. What would he do? Anything. Choke her out? He was in too much of a panic to care about the plan or his own life or the knife lodged in his back. While he thought of his family in his last moments, all he wanted preceding was to burn the psychopath in front of him.
While the edges of the space between the second floor and the roofing did have some railings, it was installed top-down. There was a very convenient human sized slot on the edge for Monika to shove the bleeding body into, as casually as she would a coin into an arcade machine. Albeit with a tinge of disgust. The only thing she never liked being the blood staining her clothes. The undercover policeman landed on the concrete floor with a heavy thud and a crack. Men leapt awake and rushed towards it, although they didn't know what to do. This was their first taste of what was to occur tomorrow, and their reactions were mixed.
Monika stuck her head out the slot. If she could, she would've clapped her hands together like she did back in the club. "Okay everyone!," she chirped. "Back to bed with you! We'll be switching locations, but other than that, everything is good to go!"
Cue the next day. Midday, at a well-known public school, one not too far away from her workplace and very close to MC's apartment. And while they were basking in their post-sex career-success happiness, a group of ten young men walked through the gates rather calmly. Australian schools: basically a gated community with lots of singular one-storey brick buildings and lots of green space. Enough to make it more playground / park rather than school, a practical heaven for any kid.
It wasn't their fault. They were just having their weekly assembly, inside the hall that could hold three-hundred. But it could hold a hundred more, turns out. And no-one, not even the receptionists, could imagine it happening. At this school, at this time, in this country. If adults saw the silhouette of a gun, they would sooner blame their broken eyes than imagine it was real. How could the kids imagine it? A few of them waved at the casually dressed men, and they waved back with their sub-machine guns, while they locked the doors behind them.
There was one adult who was suffocating with shock. She dropped the phone she was idly texting on. By this time they were unzipping duffel bags and piling their magazines in a terrifying mound that reached their knees; half would be empty by the time police got there. She locked eyes with one of the monsters, and she shook her deathly pale face.
There wasn't enough time. No time to scream, no time to hope that they would change their mind, no time to say goodbye to her family. And the children never had any time at all. At least the ones closest, while everyone else had the misfortune of being trampled to death by the crowd pushing them up against the front locked doors, trying to escape gunfire.
"MONIKA!," MC screamed. He fell on his knees and frantically shook the catatonic woman. Her face buried deep in the concrete and her fingers desperately clawing at her chest. "TELL ME THEY'RE STILL ALIVE! PLEASE!" Her heartbreaking wails got louder, alongside the chaos of the tortured crowd of mothers and fathers. Equally anguished policemen fought against them, to stop any more from jumping the barriers and running inside the hall like it was a burning building. But it was already too late.
"...nonono. No. This can't be. He's okay. He's under. Under them safe from the bullets. Monika? I need you to look at me. Please. Everything's okay. They're okay."
Unlike MC, she had lost the ability to speak. If she could, it would be a jumbled, garbled and heartbroken mess that spoke less than the earsplitting cries of mother who had lost her...non-existent child. She didn't feel a single lick of remorse- quite the opposite in fact, when MC knelt down and embraced her, so that he could pretend like his niece was one-hundred percent alive and in his arms. The warm, fuzzy feeling flared up in Monika's heart, unlike anything she could feel with his lookalikes. Even if it was a tragedy hug. 'Couples get stronger through tragedy!', she thought and the tears stopped almost immediately. 'It's that bitch's fault for not showing up with MC. What kind of a wife are you?!'
But just as she was about to say something, the gates busted open and everyone trampled over one another to get into the school. MC ran in without a second thought and was soon another pained parent sprinting across the football field to get into the hall. Sprinting towards the confirmation of what was being whispered at the back of his head.
So. Much. Blood. So many small bodies, piled on top of one another. There wasn't an empty space in sight; not even the walls could separate themselves from death. It was like...an ocean of bodies without the water. At the very end of the hall it swelled like a wave where they scrambled on top of one another to shield themselves from the bullets that would pass through anyway. He locked eyes with the policemen who were sifting through corpses to save at least one. At least. One. But they shot MC a hollow look: one that said 'Everyone's dead. Sorry.' And if it wasn't for Sayori and Natsuki pulling him away, he would've picked up a gun from one of the dead mass murders and shot the already bullet-ridden corpse some more out of hatred.