| Part 4-
May 30, 2006 12:00 PM: �The old gray matter, she ain�t what she used to be. Ain�t what she used to be. Ain�t what she used to be.� Paul, stop singing that!� Eric barked. He stopped pushing the wheelchair. �The doctors keep threatening to pump you up with drugs.� He started laughing, thinking about his �clever� song. �Philistines! A pox upon all who say such things. Those snake oil peddlers only fear people who highlight their own ineptitude.� He gazed hatefully upon a passing orderly. �Draw and quarter me for saying the world is round! Display your own ignorance and hatred of those who aspire to be more than a pack of fools drooling over the latest claptrap spewing forth from your pukebox televisions.� Eric shrugged off the stares. �You know, you could be in jail right now. You killed a lot of people.� He waved a hand dismissively. �Chlorine in the gene pool. You remember the advice of our professor when we got four point ohs?� Of course I did, it was hard to forget. You�ve already seen his words, handed down by the College Council. We were cautioned about using our newfound talents. We were warned it should only be done by an individual with �a disciplined mind, grounded in reality, and with a strong sense of morals.� Something important about that last condition, the morality. You�ve seen it in my selected tales. Imagine the sheer power you have over someone. The sexual applications are obvious and have been seen, rape usually being the end result since the tiny person is powerless against their captor. We�d done it plenty of times. The only girls not raped were on the Council and the fast food wench. Also the sorority girl who got eaten. The women spent lots of their time using their whole bodies to get us off. Close your eyes and imagine a Playboy centerfold covered entirely in cum. Some women find the idea erotic until they�re drowning in it and that�s solely from one ejaculation. I can�t even imagine their reaction to being reduced further and seeing each little swimmer. In that regard, they likely envied those who suffocated inside Erica and Libby, or got crushed by what to them was hundreds of pounds or even several tons of Lycra and fatty tissue. For something you can understand, here�s a simple experiment. Take a very trusting friend and put your hands around that person�s throat. Give a gentle squeeze, go on and do it. At that moment, you�d have total power over life and death. You�d be God. All this talk of domestic violence being from low self-esteem over low income is the biggest load of horseshit ever. I�ve heard many seemingly intelligent people spout that line. It�s meaningless and retarded. Power is the one and only thing at work. Power is craved by all, regardless of socioeconomic status. The other line of unreasoning implies domestic violence is a problem of the poor. What about Bing Crosby beating the shit outta his kids? O.J. was abusive to Nicole long before he sliced and diced her. Rich people thought it to say they�re better than everyone else and now the �everyone else� buys into it. I can tell all of you, it really goes back to Lord Acton: We are all corrupt by the same lust for power. But I have wandered a bit. I should get back to my story because this is really important. May 30, 2006 12:30 PM: The doctor sighed softly. �Your friend may be beyond our help. I shouldn�t be telling you this, but I feel as if we cannot keep him here.� �If it�s about the redheaded nurse with the large breasts-� �Somewhat, despite the fact that she is unharmed by her experience. I am to understand that you clouded her memories to protect her mind. Even so, we cannot ask you to do that any more times. The cost to you alone that you have implied from doing such things precludes any such notions. We don�t need any more patients who can randomly shrink others while pushing themselves deeper into madness in the process.� �On that subject, I am requesting to check in for a few days myself to talk with some of your counselors. If they can help with my unique demons.� May 30, 2006 1:45 PM: Eric had barely made it home and the door was swinging shut behind him when a voice rang out. He spun to see Erica thrusting out her left foot to catch the door and a sigh escaped him. She was there for one reason; she stopped by regularly to try to get Eric into bed. �Please, Erica, we�ve been over this,� Eric pleaded. �I have a girlfriend, the flute major, you�ve met her before.� She pushed the door shut with her ass and slunk towards her prey. �It doesn�t have to mean anything, just raw humping.� She thrust her hips into his. �If not for me, do it for Libby.� She produced a two-inch brunette from her cleavage. �She�d enjoy it ever so much.� �This is getting sick.� He walked away and then whirled at the sound of rustling clothes. �You have to be kidding me,� he muttered at the sight of the shapely nude. �Perhaps there is one person who can convince you.� Her right hand plunged into her crotch and extracted the last person Eric wanted to see. �It�ll be like a threesome and it�s not cheating because your girlfriend�s along for the ride.� She pushed her back inside. �She doesn�t come out until you come in. Oh, and Libby is joining for a foursome.� Another tiny girl joined his girlfriend into the darkness. May 30, 2006 2:28 PM: Eric rolled over and caressed Erica�s exposed right breast. �C�mon, you have to hold up your end of the bargain.� A hurt expression crossed her face. �Is that all it was to you, a bargain? Eric, I�m really horny for you 24/7. We�re perfect, Eric and Erica. That�d make us the perfect cutesy couple.� He sighed and rolled away. �Look, knock this shit off. You knew what it was and Amanda doesn�t have much time left.� Erica peeked under the sheets as she spread her legs. Her lips screwed up into a grimace. �Here�s the deal. Libby was supposed to help Amanda out of me once the rocking stopped.� �Then pull her out yourself. Hell, I�ll do it.� �Ooh, you promise to reach in?� �Dammit, be serious.� He maneuvered into position with her vagina. �Little problem; with your attributes, they probably got shoved deeper inside and the limited air supply was cut off.� �Shit, why didn�t I think of that? Why didn�t you? Now what?� She shrugged in a noncommittal way. �I guess I�ll go home and douche them out.� �What?� Eric screamed, jumping out of the bed. �Well, I don�t want them rotting in there. Ew!� �Goddamn, Erica, you... we... killed them.� �Not the first time. Wanna do it again, or do those tiny corpses give it a whole necro- vibe?� She was right, you know. Not about the necrophilia thing. Okay, yeah, there was some of that. My girlfriend, who I loved dearly, dead in there killed any chance of an erection. But that wasn�t the major issue, not what I was referring to. The sorority girl hadn�t been the first. She was only the first I witnessed. Libby�s roommate, the cop, and the unthinkable fate of that fast food teenybopper who probably wound up as a quick meal. After the cop, the girls shared their videos with us of the other women.... and the occasional guy. I suppose Erica probably had once had some real feelings for me. Nothing says �I love you� like not being mashed to paste by titanic breasts or drowned in vaginal juices just because the sight of you makes a chick tingly on her bottom. That, or turning against the group repelled her. Of course, how do you explain Libby then? Anyway, we had killed too many people. I finally understand how John Crichton felt in season four. The sorority girl and the officer were disturbing, but different. I guess the first one had always been a bitch to us, so it�s easy to rationalize her death. The other, though, was pure senselessness, but she was anonymous. I found out she was Heather something, but it all boils down to the personal. The loss of my girlfriend really meant something because she meant something to me. I knew her hopes, her dreams, her aspirations, and her potential. Oh well, I can ponder this during my eternity in hell. |
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