#cleaner verse

[no1cleaner-blog]

@goreshroom

“I’m your Cleaner not yer damn door mat. Go have one of the lackeys buy your groceries!”

 With bulging biceps she hastily balled up his six foot long list. Shaping its baseball size between her palms, she hurled the scrap across the room. It bounced like a handball off his ridiculously tall hair; landing ungracefully between his feet. She blew away a few messy strands from her eyes with a huff; to no success as they slid back into place. She shoved a pointed finger toward his hidden nose. 

“I kill when you need me to kill, sometimes I go on quiet super special errands for ya. Sometimes I even go with ya to those mostly dumbass events. At times I kiss your ass in front of everyone. But I am not your pack mule. Not for menial shit like this. Find someone else.”

Her eyes sharply narrowed, spittle flying here and there from her lips. Her gaze burned hot as a welding iron; her voice the growling buzz of a challenged beast. Yet somewhere, somewhere in her chest her heart beat a second faster. On her arms, faint goosebumps rose. They spread as a chill shot up her spine, a light sweat breaking out on her face. She peered hard at his unchanged expression. Fear, had clawed its way up her throat. 

[no1cleaner-blog]

@tefechi

“Tch! This sucks! Stupid En, gettin himself killed ‘n shit. Now nobody wants to get off their ass if it isn’t to cry some more!”

Her foot smacked against a stationary can, sending it rolling before her. 

“Hrmph.”

She hurried after it, kicking it softly again and again, each time watching it glide just a little bit farther. Her hands stuffed into both of her pockets as her eyes were fixed only on the pavement, the jolt of knocking into someone stopped her in place, the can forever rolling out of reach. One of her large hands flew from within her right pocket as she instinctively gripped for the stranger’s bicep. Glancing down at them, she saw a sharply dressed man wearing a rather loud suit and tie. Pulling her hand away nearly as fast as it had been revealed, her pale skin gleamed under a powerful sun. Her brow narrowed, eyes wide and pouring guilt.

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault for not watchin where I was goin. You alright?”

[no1cleaner-blog]

@ex-mercenary

She inched her mouth forward to draw another bite, the plain donut that would have dwarfed both of an average sized person’s hands, seemed like a miniature replication, a child’s toy food for their playhouse dolls between her fingers. She then took a second to pause, shrugging her shoulders and shoving the remaining five down the hatch with ease. Munching to her heart’s content, her eyes wandered across the container box. Empty. The hairs on her nape rose, that knawing feeling that she couldn’t quite put a finger on as it soured her appetite turning those donuts to nerve wracking butterflies, began to wash away. Her instinctual suspicions confirmed by the sound of rattling metal and feet against earth.

“You know, you can just say hello instead of standin there all quiet. It makes you look like a damn creeper don’t you get that?” 

She had to only sightly turn her head to spot him, a mere two metres behind her. Still she sat, one leg dangling off the picnic table’s wooden top, the other curled toward her groin, half cross-legged. Her hand on her lap remained loosely placed, while her right lifted her empty box high above her head. 

“Hey I dunno who you are, but if you want to make yourself useful, could ya buy me some more donuts? And get a mask, the hell are you walking around with nothing on for?”

Her gaze narrowed, resembling a hawk scouring for prey in fierce concentration.

“Unless...you’re here to start a fight after making it out The Hole.”

[no1cleaner-blog]

@thefourthwallflower

Her mouth opened to stretch and give a wide yawn as she lazily strolled down the thinly populated street. With one hand in her tracksuit pants, the other twirling a navy blue gimp mask with the likeness of a zombie’s rotting gums and teeth where its mouth should be, she paid no heed to the dripping streams of crimson blood splattered on its face. Her eyes instead faced straight ahead, vacant as she yawned yet again. Her stomach complained with an intrusive grumble to break a self imposed, bored silence. Stopping in place, she cringed, her shoulders sagging as her lips turned up to a frown, then a tooth gnashing scowl, a sharp frustrated growl revving from within her throat. In the same moment, she sent a hard fist slamming into the side of a building wall, denting it as large cracks fanned out in gaping fissures. Lifting her head toward the sky, she whined aloud, 

“Where the hell is the food around here?! I ain’t seen a dive or joint or even a fuckin stand in forever!”

As she gave out another angry grunt with her nostrils flaring, the sound of several loud, demandingly snappy voices crashed into her ears, breaking her tantrum. Turning her head, she peeked in the direction of a seemingly deserted alley. Stalking further inward, she heard the calls grow in volume, their aggression piercing the air like knives, a thickly heated arguement. A slight, childlike smirk appeared on her lips to spread into a mad, fang bearing grin. She zipped on her mask, blood trails and all, and continued forward.