|
in
Remembrance, The Second
039: Defilement
 Post:
02.04.2003
Date: Unknown
Time: Unknown
Defilement
The pistols (his pistols) were both shaking,
dangerously, inches away from his face, which was starting to shine with sweat.
“You’re right, you shouldn’t have ever trusted a
glitching woman,” she said angrily as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Least of
all, this stupid keetcha!” she said, pointing to herself with one of the guns.
“Listen, Maia--”
“No Cyre! You listen to me—listen
and look! See this creditstick? I’ve transferred all the money that we’ve
‘earned’ to this. By all rights, this money should have been mine in the first
place!”
“And what will you do with it?
Hide it? Spend it? You know I can take it all back from you in time. I taught
you everything you know, glitch it!”
“You taught me too much. You
taught me how to distrust people. You taught me how to lie. You taught me how
to cheat. That’s all fine for you, I suppose, but I don’t think I like what
I’ve become because of you.”
She shifted her balance and
continued with a lower voice. “But you know what? You also taught me how to
make plans—good plans. Oh yes, I’ve had this planned out for quite some time
now. And you also taught me how to execute them.”
She touched one of the pistols
to his forehead before continuing in an almost whisper. “And you know what
else? You taught me how to cover my tracks.”
The other pistol was now thrust
into his moist cheek. “And there’s one other thing you taught me….” Her voice
was the quietest whisper now. You taught me how to kill.”
“Maia--” he pleaded.
“Shhh! Don’t say a word.” She
caressed his face with the cold muzzle of one of the pistols. “There’s only one
problem,” she said softly, her voice starting to falter. “The plan was not
perfect. I thought I had accounted for all possible factors…but I missed one.
I didn’t think it could happen, but it did.”
“What happened?” he softly
asked.
Her face wrenched up as she
shook her head, tears dripping off of her chin. “I…I fell in love with
you,” she sobbed. She stepped forward, into his body. The pistols clattered
when they hit ground. Her empty hands gently pulled his head down toward hers,
resting it on her shoulder. Their two moist cheeks pressed together.
“You never taught me how to
love,” she said, and held him tighter.
“No,” he said, his voice now
starting to tremble as well, “but you taught that to me.” |
