| I.C.E. |
| I sat on my victorian wrap-around porch in the late afternoon waiting for my ride. The year was 2014. Twelve years before, the world had gone to hell and had not come back. I lived on my own private little island where hell wasn't. I was very picky about who I let come on the island, but when people that weren't allowed came on I took care of it. I started a group called I.C.E. which stood for Island Continuous Extermination. I was president and head assassin. Today my group had located several people who needed to be taken care of. My ride had finally arrived. He pulled up in a blue bmw. I quickly got in. "Your late," I said as I fastened my seatbelt. "I know sorry my wife wanted me to take her to the mall before I left," He replied. His name was John and he worked at the bank. He also was vice-president of I.C.E. "It's fine lets just get to the first house," I said. We drove off when we arrived at the first house I got out my butcher knife and walked up to the door. It was open, which made my job easier. I walked in and heard the tv on. I walked out to the living room and saw the target sitting lazily on the couch eating potatoe chips, very messily. I snuck up behind her and tapped on her shoulder. She jumped right off the couch and turned to face me. "What are you doing in my house?" she asked stupidly as she slowly started to back away. "I am here in your house because you have been...how did they used to say it....oh yes voted off the island," I said and jumped up on to the edge of the couch. She began to run towards the door. I jumped off and began to chase her. It didn't take long to catch her. I threw her to the ground. She turned on her side and began whimpering. I held up the knife and brought it down oh so slowly. "Why are you doing this?" she whimpered. I didn't respond just shoved to knife into her temple. Her eyes bulged out as I drove the knife deeper into her skull. She screamed ever so loud. I then ripped out the knife and flipped her and drove the knife through her throat. She stopped screaming. I watched the blood slowly drip from her two open wounds. I exited the house and jumped back in to the car. "Done?" John asked. I nodded. He put the car in drive and we drove to the next destination. The next house was much larger. It housed five celebraties who thought that they deserved to be there. They didn't. They never paid any taxes and never participated in anything. They were useless and expendable. The house finally came in to our sights. He parked at the end of the street and popped the trunk. I got out and took out an AK-47 and my machette. |
| Written by Bob Pie |
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