Stumbling, I squint, making out the tactical suit and the green eyes that have haunted my most animalistic desires.
“Talia,” I whisper, reaching for my knife. “We’ve been wait?—”
My words cut short as she throws something shiny. I can’t make heads or tails of it because my vision is blurry from the blood dripping into my eyes.
“Fuck a duck,” I exclaim, dropping the knife in my hand as I take in the sharp metal object lodged through my wrist.
Hissing through the pain, I reach up to yank it out when I hear, “Swing… batta’ batta’... swing,” seconds before I’m cracked in the head with a bat— not once… not twice… fuck not even three times, each ripping chunks of my skin and hair.
Delirious, I stumble backwards until I hear the snap of branches, and then I’m falling, blearily staring at the moon before something stops my descent.
“Going… going… gone!” I hear from above, and it takes my brain time to register what broke my fall. “Ahh, sh-ithh,” I mutter, very aware of my slurring. My eyes blink, finally taking in the metal spikes I’m impaled on.
You asked for a change, asshole, and karma surely enough delivered.
As my limbs grow weak and I feel the lethargic beat of my heart, thumping like hell is welcoming me home. I hear Tati shout, “Yes! Home run. And the crowd goes wild.” I want to snort, but everything feels so heavy. “That’s fifteen points for me, B. One down, three to go. You’d better keep up.”
I’m not sure who B is, but I’ll be honest, I don’t think Fredrick, Jackson, or Mikah are ready for the bloodlust of Talia Al-Adil.
Tati
The satisfaction that pumps through my veins at the sight of Griff’s dead body as a familiar sensation prickles my skin.
Ignoring it, I tap the earpiece, happy that we agreed to link our comms. “Did you hear me,sir?”
The word—almost a plea, packed full of sensuality, reflecting my growing need for release.
Focus Bitch!Your work isn’t done.
Shifting my attention away from my wanton wayward thoughts, I take in my human piñata.
I pause, mulling over my analogy. “Hmmm. Maybe he’s more T-ball than piñata since he’s stuck on the pole?”
Whatever he is, I need to move my ass before Brax gets a kill. I lock in, grounding myself, and get to work.
Extremism is a cult—a parasite that latches on to the altruistic, seeing everything in black and white, willfully ignoring the shades of gray that actually make up societal norms. It will teach those of weak minds that their martyrdom will drive the cause forward, upsetting the base and fueling the revolution that will bring about a“just society.”
But what is a just society?
Grunting, I swing Guilie and bask in the squish made once sheconnects with Griff’s unmasked face, the barbed wire ripping off chunks of his flesh as tissue and blood splatter all over the place. An eyeball hangs slightly out of its socket, and I can’t help but flick it, chuckling when it bounces around. Then, I do it again, and yet again, fully amused each time it smacks the caved-in portion of his head.
“Bet you didn’t expect your eyeball would be used to play Tether Ball,” I snark, allowing myself to drift into another ramble.
Is it the people in power influencing the laws to bend in their favor, trampling on the rights of so many as their pockets get fatter?
Or…
Is it the voice of the people being heard, but not seeing change?
Even engrossed in a myriad of thoughts, I reach around, ensuring his mask is still in my back pocket before dropping my bat.
Sometimes, the voices of many do more harm than good. They shout the loudest, drowning out the truth with their propagandized extremist beliefs.The expectation—the people to follow without thought—puppetsruled by thepuppet master. Ill-equipped for judgment—voices borrowed, not earned. If people vote on things they don’t truly understand, how can the masses determine the fate of the informed?
“It’s all lies,” I huff, wielding a machete.
My body hums to life with each chop through muscle, cartilage, and bone I make. I find myself pondering the complexity of humans, and it has me ready to ride on someone’s dick… face—shit, even fingers at this point.
Brax immediately comes to mind when thoughts of riding anything—because when I do ride, I want to come hard… with the kind of force that feels like my Rose cranked to the max—pulsing, ruthless, and instant—immediate squirting.
