Freak...
How long have we been walking now? This is fucking ridiculous. I can't believe this is what that fucking demon meant when he said there would be unforeseen consequences.
The soldier I've been walking with glances nervously at me. Yeah, keep fucking stepping, brother.
We're both having shit days.
For the sake of fuck, why am I so thirsty? I'd scoop out my own eyeballs and eat them if someone offered me some fucking water. I know that the little fucker next to me has some, I fucking know it. I can hear it, dude, that little canteen in your pack.
His hand twitches a bit and the muzzle of the rifle raises an inch.
Yeah, do it, go ahead, fucking do it. I promise you that you'll run out of bullets long before you can even hope to kill me at this point.
I swear, when I get my hands on that little glowing yellow bastard I'm gonna rip that smug little eye right out of his fucking face.
"Hey, you uh, want some water?"
Well it's about fucking time, ya little shit. I open my mouth and try talking
Oh, right. I can't anymore. Shit. If I had known that being immortal meant never being able to speak again... shit, I don't know, maybe I wouldn't have said yes? I have no fucking idea.
I reach out and he hands me the little canteen from his pack. I can tell he really didn't want to, but I have a feeling he gets that I'm gonna be the one who walks out of this desert alive. I take a swig.
Fuck. Doesn't even help. Is this another part of the immortality shtick? I'm always gonna be thirsty, like, forever and always? The fuck....
"So, uh... where ya from?"
I look at him and almost roll my eyes out of my skull. Seriously? The not being able to talk thing? Have we not fucking established that little fucking gem a long fucking while ago?
God, this is the worst. I'm going to spend the rest of my life in puberty. I was only a few weeks away from my 16th birthday. I was gonna go with my family to that little Greek restaurant next to the car-wash then we were gonna go see a movie or something. 15. Forever.
For.
Fucking.
Ever.
Velasquez. Lt. Velasquez was this guys name. My dad had been a Captain in the Army, so the little patch on ol' Velasquez's chest was easy for me to recognize. My eyes stay fixed on the little patch for a time...
Velasquez coughs nervously, catches my eye, then looks down at his patch.
"Oh, my name... it's... uh... Carlito. Carlito Santoro Velasquez Jr."
Well whoopty fuckin' doo.
"I'm with the... well, I guess it doesn't really matter much anymore..."
No shit. What are you, 20? Fuck. If this little fucker is over 21 someone please shoot me.
Again, I guess..
"Yeah. My dad was Army. My mom nearly lost it when I told her I'd signed up. Said she had had enough after what my dad and brother went through, couldn't believe I was gonna make the same mistake..."
Jeez, lay it on a bit thicker, please. You want a tissue? I'm going to be stuck prepubescent for eternity and you want ME to feel bad because your mommy yelled at you? Get real!
"... Mama, she always got mad at us boys. My brother, Victor, was worse than I was. He was always..."
I'm not gonna lie, I'm done paying attention. Just get me out of this desert and away from Carlito Santoro Velasquez Jr. for the rest of my miserable life.
He rambles on for ages. I swear, this dude is gonna be the death of me. Bastard shoots me in the head eight hours earlier, and now he's telling me about how his dog used to spend all day chasing it's tail in the living room while him and his brother threw ping pong balls at it.
Oh, my bad. Her. The dog apparently was a her.
I stop. He stops. I kneel down and start writing into the cracked ground with my finger:
RICO
"Rico? Is that... is that your name?"
I shrug. Sure. It was when I was mortal. So whatever, right?
He holds his hand out to shake mine. I don't take it.
"...oh. Well I guess that... I guess that's fair" his eyes flit up to my forehead. You know, where he fucking shot me.
"Well, Rico, I guess we're good and fucked, right?"
You are, buddy. You are well and truly screwed.
We start walking again. He starts talking again. I'm not even bothering to listen, I just want out of this fucking desert.
When I get my hands on that little yellow bastard, I'm poking his fucking eye out, I swear on the life of Carlito Santoro Velasquez.....
Jr....
@calamosis
billscxpher
