I really didn’t know what the hell to do. A guy that had waded through the majority of the U.S. military and local police was about two blocks away from me, and moving slowly in my direction. There was a car in his path, flipped upside down that he just brushed aside like you would move a beaded curtain. Except when he moved that car it was tossed through the front of a Starbucks. He was still stalking his way towards me, and I needed to figure out what I was going to do.
I didn’t know the extent of my gift, except that I came back from being dead. Was I strong too? I decided that I needed to test that before I got here. I walked to the corner and grabbed the pole of a yield sign, and pulled up. It tore from the cement easier than I thought (actually I didn’t think it would come up at all). Great, now I had a weapon, but should I hold onto it, or throw it at him? I pictured myself hurling it at him, putting all of my new-found strength into the throw. Only in my mind, he would catch it, and throw it back at me, skewering me again. Hmm.
I pictured myself instead holding onto my new weapon, and using it like a staff when he got closer. This time, I could imagine him taking it from me and planting the sign in my face. Hmm.
I dropped the yield sign, deciding that I would live longer if I didn’t give the Destroyer any ideas of repeating the previous impalement. But this means I would have to fight him hand to hand. I was a good fighter back in the old days, at least I thought so. I had been in about eleven total fights in my life up to this point, and had won most of them. He just seemed like a lot of rage and noise, so maybe I could finesse him. Yeah I could finesse the guy that just wasted half the city’s population, part of the military and police. God, I must be an idiot to actually be standing here…
Wait a minute. Why the hell was I standing here? Doing this thing won’t bring me…
Crap. He’s running at me now. I braced myself, since I was doing the inner monologue thing I had no time to plan anything else. He was laughing as he ran into me, his massive arms closing around me in a bear hug. I felt him pull it tight as he lifted me off my feet. The wind was forced from my lungs, my arms pinned to my sides. He was going to crush me, and I couldn’t do anything about it. And he knew he was killing me, he thought it was funny he was laughing so hard…
I realized that the bear hug wasn’t getting any tighter. And the laughing wasn’t psycho laughing. It was… joyful.
He was hugging me. Happily. And when I looked down at his face, he was looking up at me, and there were tears in his eyes.
This was so gay…
end part 3
No comments:
Post a Comment