She had ran . I saw the shifting of her foot steps from the corners of my pupil. Black boots and a trailing white coat just above the calf. Her placements were staggering and without assurance, a step or two direction left and three more of right, but in the end she did not kill me she would leave me here bonded on this hardened floor. The floor is the only thing i can feel now.
What particular circle of science requires wearing combative boots. I have no answer to. I have no answer for any of this. My mind is as stuffed as a summers fog and in the same breath gripping at jail bars, shaking them violently for my ever release, a clear path outwards. Whatever the shifty doctor had gave me or rather forcibly injected me with without my knowledge, has regrettably put my body at ease. The floor is cold, but i like it. I want my anger back. I need my holster, I need to get out of here. Theres a particular smell in the air that my nostrils are not agreeing with. It smells like flowers. I want my rage. I want content in what I will soon do to her when I am released from this slug. We like it here. Its comfortable here. There are no flames here.
My radio keeps going off. It is out of my control. Ignore! My lips are not of mine but I can still hear him calling me in.
"Agent 794, where are you.” And again,
"Agent 794, do you copy, were in building 2.” Another one,
"Agent 794 , I don't think we can make it out.”
He...Who? What is his name? He told me, begged me to trust her on this mission, I did as I was told as he was my superior.
He said, ‘Do this for me’.
I was reluctant but I obeyed. I saw what he could not. The shaking of hands in darkest of alleys. The side conversations and trading of confidential information. How did they know the layout of each building, the offices of every head chair. How did they know about the offshore cargo hold with a new batch of shipments which i barely knew about. She told them everything, Im sure of it and where is he now, in the next building over possibly burning to death. No one is dying, everyone is happy. Everyone will be ok. That is a lie. My mind knows it is a lie. I can smell them, as i have smelt it before. Overburn. The charring of cooked skin on the surface while the red meat underneath glowed ruby red and boiled over until bursting at the ligaments. The inflammation of each muscle separating from the bone, ripping and tearing from the other. The black soot that falls from the sky afterwards as their bodies collapse, sifting into the growling winds. I can hear them too. Their voices danced off the concrete slabs and into the grey clouds forming above. Each song in cry had a different timbre. A higher octave than the one before but all unique in its own beautiful way. You would never hear my song play on the walls, as i would never let anyone get this better of me. Good thing I was out following her instead of following him. Him? Oh yes, I remember now, Mr. Sir.
I didn't tell him soon enough. I waited to long. Maybe, that was my fault. I needed the evidence to back my claims, he wouldn't have believed me if i hadn't. It is your making. You are to blame. I am not to blame! What is this? This mental blockage pushing me into a steel box. An aggressive rebuttal to my own personal thoughts. You are not me nor for me. I am you. A better you. No, you are the slug. The gentle hand that keeps aiding my wounds. The hinderance that keeps me from rising from the floor. You will soon wear and she will be owed a bloody knife for what she has caused. I can feel your time with me is over. I can feel my palms pulling at the cage bars. The metal is pliable compared to the strength of my will to survive and not be prisoner to you. The building is still aflame, the winds will change and i will only have a short time to save them.
“Agent 794, If you can. hear me. im sorry."
A new song began to play . One she had never heard before, nor did she want to.
Agent 794- The Slug
