DATE: 18/6/0*
A gun was held to Azrael’s head, Wonderful, just how I like to start my day. Azrael smiled at the man and gave him a peck on the cheek. He stood immobilized, obviously he wasn’t gay; Azrael tilted his head and licked his lips. Without taking Azrael’s eyes off of the man’s, he kicked the man between the legs. Azrael then slapped the gun out of his hands and caught it. Pointing it at him, trigger finger all, but ready, he smiled deviously. The man put his hands up in what Azrael would have to have called the utmost rudest fashion. Appalled, Azrael shot him in the shoulder and hit him on the head with the butt of the gun. He fell to the floor unconscious.
All the people inside the bank were watching Azrael in awe. He sighed; they thought he was a hero? My, how the world works. He shot at the roof, “This is a robbing, my colleague and I had a disagreement, so those who don’t want to be shot or well to put bluntly murdered in cold blood I suggest you stay still.”
Azrael smiled, I would have sold my soul to Satan to bet on there being a robbery today.
Of course he didn’t know the guy that he had just knocked out. His plan was to loiter inside a bank and gaze at catalogues, waiting for the robber to finish his tricks, the beginning of this was child’s play. Getting the robber to choose Azrael as his first hostage had been a bit trickier. The people stood in shock, sighing he shot someone in the leg.
“Come on, I haven’t got all day! Well I do, but . . . I have no intention of staying here.”
The man screamed in pain, so Azrael shot him again, looking the wounded man in the eye, Azrael replied, “Oh stop it! These bullets are next to harmless unless you get them in your head. Now no one be getting any ideas, I have a very refined aim. Get on the ground.”
They all just dropped and he laughed, “Wonderful, just the way I like to start my day.”
He sauntered over to the counter and rested his chin in his hand, “Hmmm, I’d liked a large coke and some fries please.”
The receptionist looked at him as if he was crazy, “Oh, wait thought I was in America!”
The woman’s hand was roaming around under the desk, Azrael watched it curiously, “Oh dear, it seems that the electric warning connected straight to the police IS NOT WORKING!”
Azrael himself had watched the robber disconnect it. The woman winced and her hand dropped, “I’ll take everything you got, darling,” he glanced at her name-tag, “My darling, Rochelle.”
Rochelle stared at him threateningly, he poked the gun in his hand as if he didn’t know what it was and muttered, “I wonder what this trigger is for . . . OH wait now I remember! First you point,” he pointed it at her, “and then you pull-”
The woman screamed in desperation, “I’ll go get it!”
Azrael smiled, “I won’t have to file a negative report about this place after all!”
He watched her walk off and began to sing, “Baa. Baa black sheep have you any wool?”
Azrael waited for a reply from his hostages; none came, so he shot one, “I want this song finished by the time she gets back!”
A man began to sing, “Yes, sir, Yes sir, three bags full.”
Azrael complimented him, “You’re very good! Are you a professional?”
The man swallowed, hesitated and then nodded, Azrael grinned the most wonderful idea popping into
his head, “Well, I’d like to hear . . . It’s raining Men!”
The man stared at Azrael for second, Azrael rolled his eyes and pointed his gun at him, the man begun to sing, “I feel stormy weather moving in, about to begin-.”
A woman coughed behind Azrael and he spun around, “You can stop now, and please stop your career, you’ll never get anywhere especially for a builder.”
Even behind himself Azrael could feel the man’s eyes widen. Azrael looked towards the bag, “It’s a bit small, isn’t it Rochelle?”
She narrowed her eyes, “This is every hundred note we have.”
He stood there for a second and so did she, Azrael exclaimed in annoyance, “Well open IT!”
Rochelle clumsily undid the zip; the money became visible, Azrael stated “Ah, that’s some nice brown,”
She frowned in confusion and Azrael smiled, “You’d understand if you were born a licoseni victim. By all means I’m NOT one, but it IS fun to pretend sometimes, you know?”
He walked out of the bank with a cheery bounce in his step and got onto a passing bus. Azrael wiped off the makeup mask that he had been wearing onto his sleeve and sat down on one of the chairs, “I love my life, however crazy I will get.”
He laughed; an insane laugh and his green eyes shone madly in the sunlight.
DATE: 13/5/0*
I gazed at myself in the mirror and watched the tears slide down my cheeks. Eyes swollen, nose runny and bottom lip quivering; pathetic. That’s the kind of person I was, pathetic. I stared until I lost myself in the reflection; my mind wandering through memories.
The freshest ones popped up in my mind as it replayed them for its own cruel benefit.
Mum smiled; her crooked teeth shining through her bronze lips and the dark skin at the edge of her eyes crinkling up into crow’s feet. I smiled back, timid and helplessly knowing that to not do so would result in dire consequences. A giggle escaped her mouth as if she understood what she was doing. Her face was shadowed, but her eyes sparkled with madness and shone in the moonlight.
Wind tussled my brunette hair, which was so alike to mum’s, apart from its unruliness. A leaf drifted into my view and caught my attention for a second; my eyes watched it slowly float down the hundred metres until it hit the ground and was run over and over again by passing cars.
I frowned, would that be mum’s fate as well, if she decided to jump off the building? I was suddenly frozen by fear, even to afraid to blink and re-hydrate my dry eyes. I imagined that this was a dream; a nightmare all made up by inner fears and doubts. But I knew when I felt my heart pounding through my chest with hysteric panic that against my greatest hope, this was not a dream. This was reality; cruel, harsh, cold reality.
Mum waved, snapping me out of my deep thoughts; a lone tear slid down her cheek and I think for one second as she spread her arms out and leant back that when she looked at me, I saw real sadness echo through her mind. It was then that I lost it, my train of thought, my mind, my own inner ideals and dreams. My identity and all I had ever known, blown away and over the side of the building.
I stopped crying; amazed that I could recall anything that traumatizing. Then suddenly everything just snapped into place. An evil malicious smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. I watched my reflection and began to laugh as I saw something which struck me as ironic and partially familiar. My green eyes sparkled; they sparkled with madness and shone in the moonlight that was carried through a window. A plan began to form in my mind; how long had it been since I have visited dad? My crazed laughter echoed through the house. Through the empty house was full of memories which now caused me pain. I screwed my hand up into a fist and punched the wall. I watched fascinated as it gave way to a hole.
My, how the world works. Attack something and it will give way.
My smile widened as I knew that this was going to be the new code that I followed in life. Pain suddenly stepped in and I glanced at my hand. It was bruised and bleeding, realising something new; I stared at it utterly amazed and I added something else to my code, Attack something and it will give way, but ALWAYS expect to be hurt in return. I mentally stored this and walked on. No one is to be trusted.
DATE: 21/5/0*
I smiled at Dad as I watched him walk into McDonalds. The doors slid open for him as if he were worthy, I knew he was not and they closed a short time after he walked through. I followed and lined up after him. His scratched his head as if he didn’t know what to buy. My eyes followed the movement of his smoke-stained fingers scraping back and forth, slowing gathering dandruff in his dirty fingernails. My gaze was drawn to the hand that had tortured Mum and abused me; the wrinkled hand which had held the knife that had left scars upon her back and scarred images upon my mind.
I stared at him, hate welling up inside. I reached inside my pocket for comfort, feeling the sharp edge of a butcher’s knife. I smothered a laugh with my free hand.
It was Dad’s turn to order and I heard, “A large coke and fries, please?”
He sauntered over to the counter and rested his chin in his hand, “Hmmm, I’d liked a large coke and some fries please.”
The waitress nodded and tapped a few buttons on the computerised till. “That’ll be $7.50 sir.”
Dad reached into his pocket and pulled out a $10 note, “Here you go . . . Hey, do you wanna join me after you finish your shift?”
The waitress snatched the money and gave him a disheartening glare, “$2.50 change.”
She handed the change over and he grabbed her hand, lifted it to his mouth and kissed it, “Keep the change darling.”
She sniffed in disdain and violently pulled her wrist back. I bit back a smile, Go girl! He walked away grumpily and sat down in a corner table. He picked up a newspaper on the way. I followed. Oh, dear Dad how you have raised me so, I seized at least one hundred serviettes on the way and sat down next to him, he didn’t notice, too absorbed in the newspaper. I slipped behind the paper with him and pulled the knife out of my pocket. I laughed at his expression; something between surprise and mortification.
I raised the knife to his throat and with one quick solid action, I skewered his jugular cord. Red frothy warm liquid spouted forth, I raised the serviettes and stuck them into the spewing cut, I said to the lifeless corpse with a sneer, “I fucking hate you.”
Slipping from out of the hiding place of the newspaper, I wiped up the mess and the knife. I carefully placed Dad’s head onto the table and covered it with the newspaper, as if he were sleeping. I laughed and motioned to a man nearby, “Dad’s really tired, could you tell them that I’ll be back to pick him up later?”
The man nodded and smiled naively, “Sure.”
I smiled and I knew that dimples appeared making me look heavenly, “Thanks.”
I walked out with a bounce in my step.
DATE: 27/5/0*
I laughed as I watched two men arguing over politics, their fat jiggling with every word. They glanced at me and I stared, eyes wide, right back. One of them swallowed loudly and the other’s face went bright red. Oh, how I love my make up and costumes. I was dressed as a hot Californian girl with a nice tan. I was wearing a low cutting red dress, long black gloves and high heels. I smiled and twinkled my fingers at them flirtingly.
They talked quietly for a second and I observed them glancing at me and then continuing talking. I knew who these two men were; two leading American politicians who were both married and now they were currently drunk. I also knew that they had been stealing from people’s tax and bribing the President. Nice guys in name only, they were all for bombing Iraq, using humans as subjects for experimentation and counterfeiting money. I also knew that they were the people who had stolen funding for the asylum where mum had had to live. The asylum eventually couldn’t support itself and my mum was kicked out. Left to fend for herself, with me. But no one could get them to confess.
One of them walked over and I smiled, “Why yes, sir?”
He cleared his throat and began, “How much do you cost?”
I raised an eyebrow, “Why, I am the best, $220 per hour.”
He recoiled for a second and I quickly took the opportunity to make him cocky, “Can’t pay? Then don’t approach me again!”
Then man’s fat face went red with anger, “I CAN SO PAY!”
I smiled at took his fat hand and felt his wedding ring, “This is the blessed country, isn’t it?”
“Yes, this America.”
He took me to his apartment in a hotel, the so called QUEEN’S SUITE. I smiled and I picked the tape recorder out my handbag.
He looked at me, “What’s that for?”
I glanced at him over my shoulder and smiled enticingly, “It’ll cost a lot afterwards.”
He smiled back and rubbed his hands, “I can’t wait.”
I laughed again, clicked the record button and said, “So you’re a politician, are you? Lie on the bed.”
“Yeah, one of the best.” He lied down on the bed.
I crawled over to him, “What do you deal with?”
“This and that.”
I walked my finger up his arm and pouted, “Aw, come on, tell me the nitty gritty stuff.”
He chuckled, his fat vibrating, “Okay, well lately I’ve been conning everyone, maybe even you into paying more into tax so me and my partner get money.”
I paused, “Don’t tell me that’s all?”
He shook his head, obviously drunk, “And we’ve been fooling the President into using counterfeit money to buy imported goods.”
I laughed and slipped off the bed and grabbing my handbag, I pulled out a butcher’s knife and hid it behind my back.
“What’re you doing?” he asked nonchalantly,
“Well, sometimes,” I crept closer towards him and his relaxed body, “you need,” I was closer still, all but whispering now, “protection!”
I slit his throat with one motion, beautiful scarlet juice rushed over my fingers and I smiled. He gurgled as if trying to say something and I stated, “Oh, wait thought I was in America! But obviously no where is blessed.”
The receptionist looked at him as if he was crazy, “Oh, wait thought I was in America!”
I walked over to the recording and stopped it. I put it on the bed and walked away. I sashayed out of the building with a bounce in my step and as I finally came to a pay-phone, I rang 911.
Ring, ring, ring, ring.
Someone picked up, “Hello, this is Emergency Department of America speaking, what are you reporting?”
“Oh, well, your best politician is dead.”
“WHAT!?!?!?”
I hung up on him and giggled. I laughed and ran away just in case they tracked the phone.
DATE: 5/6/0*
I hopped up the stairs and stared at the receptionist of the hotel. I smiled and I knew heavenly charming dimples would appear on queue. She smiled back taken in by my seductive charms. Suddenly remembering herself she stumbled over some welcoming words, “Hello. Welcome to Deck’s Bistro. I’m Carlene, what would you like today?”
I wanted to laugh at her, but I held it in, “One room, one king sized bed and some bubbly with two wine glasses. I’d like that at 8.”
I glanced at my watch; it was 7:54.
She put it into a computer and looked up with a warm smile, “Expecting any company?”
I suppressed another laugh and replied, “Only you, Carlene.”
It’s a pity she didn’t remember me. She use to call me a little brat that should be dropped off at the nearest orphanage. Oh, how she used to love to tell mum how wrong she had been to keep me alive.
Before I left her sight, I turned and smiled and I knew she wouldn’t wait a long time.
Oh, Carlene, how you liked to hit me when mum wasn’t around and how you liked to pretend I had fallen over. Carlene had been mum’s best friend before mum was taken to the asylum. I wanted to laugh; it seemed ironically funny – mum had been taken to the asylum for not only apparent drug overdose, but also for the attempted murder. Of me.
It was a lie of course; mum would have never hurt me, not in a million years. Even when she had jumped, it was for me to be free.
But mum had never known my personality; so she wouldn’t have known I would’ve wanted revenge.
I found myself lying on my side; my head propped up on my arm and only a pair of pants on. I wanted to laugh; she couldn’t even remember it was me; the little mistake.
The door creaked open and I watched it; my eyes have half closed for effect. She walked in and gasped when she saw me. I saw her cheeks grown red; I only hoped her blood would be as pure.
Carlene approached me cautiously and I smiled, “No need to be afraid. You won’t die if you take another step near me.”
I wasn't lying, but she took more then one step. I held back a laugh which I knew would’ve lost me my entertainment for the night. She finally made it to the bed and she sidled up next to me, “I don’t even know your name.”
My eyes widened maniacally and I felt my blood grow hot as I breathed down her neck, “Oh, Carlene. It’s Azrael.”
Her body went stiff and I dragged the knife from under my pillow, restraining her with my other arm I slowly moved the knife towards her throat; savouring her shaking form against my naked chest.
I could feel her heart beat quicken as I took a breath and whispered to her, “This isn’t a bad hotel. I won’t have to file a negative report about this place after all.”
Azrael smiled, “I won’t have to file a negative report about this place after all!”
I enjoyed the fact that these were the last words that she would hear. I swiped the knife and I could feel the warmth of her body oozing out with the delicious crimson flowing blood. I gave her one last look – savouring the pain on her face as I walked out with the bubbly in hand.
Pulling my t-shirt back on I noticed that some blood had gotten onto my hand; I rubbed it into my face – maybe my pale cheeks would have colour now.
DATE: 12/6/0*
I glanced around the room; where was my favourite thing? AHA! There it was, my baby blanket – the only thing I had left that my mother had given me. I smiled as I held it close to my face and I walked to the preschool.
The receptionist looked at me coldly and I looked back, with forced warmness in my voice I asked, “Is Miss Cleo in today?”
The receptionist nodded, “You’re lucky she’s got no classes today.”
I nodded and walked up, “Would I be able to ask for permission to see her?”
She nodded again and picked up the phone. I glanced at her name tag – Gabrielle. Gabrielle began to dial then talk.
My mind began to drift as I looked at the windows and doors with which I had been so familiar with. Cleo was the very first person who had stole a part of mum’s health and sanity. Cleo had seduced dad and broken mums heart. She would pay; she would pay dearly. Gabrielle looked up and nodded – it seemed nodding was her favourite thing to do, “Down the hall and to the left.”
It hadn’t changed; Cleo was an evil women and she used to molest my friends when I had been here.
She never molested me though; I was his child. It was amusing what morals one would follow and one wouldn’t.
The door opened in front of me and I walked in, “Hello Miss Cleo.”
She glanced at me and gestured to the seat, “Mr?”
“Smith, I’d like to be called Mr. Smith.” I answered with a smile.
“Mr Smith, now why are you seeing me today?” she asked while skimming through some reviews.
I smiled and replied, “Well, I’ve heard that you have a very interesting teaching method and I was just wondering what type of things you would teach them.”
She smiled and replied, “Hmm, we have arts and crafts. I occasionally go one on one with them if they’re having difficulty.”
Poor Suzy she could never build anything in that part; she had always come back to us crying. Cleo continued, “And we teach team confidence. I like to always congratulate the good leaders.”
Ahh, Jake. He always use to be so happy until she went to see him after he won a leading activity – he was always so blank and shaky afterwards.
“And lastly we like to sing.”
I looked up to her surprised; singing was new. I wondered what she did with the good singers. A question popped up into my mind, “What kind of songs do you sing?”
She put a finger on her chin, pondering for a second, then she replied, “Well, mostly nursery rhymes. Humpty dumpty, a-tissue and they especially love the postman pat theme song.”
I found myself asking before I could stop myself, “What about Baa, Baa Black Sheep?”
He watched her walk off and began to sing, “Baa. Baa black sheep have you any wool?”
Cleo nodded, “If you want I could show you the actual curriculum I follow. I’ll just need to get it out.”
The chance I needed. I smiled and laughed, “It would be my pleasure.”
She walked next to me and opened a metal cabinet; she bent in and I saw her shuffling through pictures. I froze for a second; she had also taken pictures of us while we were getting dressed.
“Aha here it i-”
My hand with the knife was out of the baby blanket I was carrying before I even thought and it slipped fluidly through her neck. The look on her face was shock and I laughed at her, “Azrael. Remember me? Because I remember you; only to well Miss Cleo.”
She clasped at her neck and I watched the wonderful debut of her blood as it spurted out in a beautiful show; it seemed a pity it would only be a one hit wonder.
Pulling the pictures out I glanced at them; naked children – nothing had changed. I poured them around the room and walked out. Gabrielle watched me suspiciously so I answered her gaze, “I really don’t want any kids to come here. I’m sorry.”
She nodded and resumed her normal work. Outside a payphone sat and I picked it up; putting a quarter into it I rang 911.
Ring, ring, ring.
Hello? This is the 911 service operator.
I smiled, “I’m sorry, but I’ve found evidence that Cleo Vonda has been selling child pornography.”
Could we please have your address, number and name?
“Preschool, 17 and I like Smith. Goodbye.”
Please enter another quarter if you want to continue your call.
Music on the phone began to play; a relaxing song. It’s Raining Men.
The man swallowed, hesitated and then nodded, Azrael grinned the most wonderful idea popping into his head, “Well, I’d like to hear . . . It’s raining Men!”
I put the phone back on its stand and walked off. My steps seemed lighter and I shivered; today was a good day. Just the way I liked it.
DATE: 17/5/0*
It tore at my heart and I stared at the doctor, “What do you mean I’m have licoseni syndrone**?”
She shook her head sadly and replied, “It’s hereditary and you got it off your dad. He is going to die from it soon. It seems as if you have it worse. You might have a heart attack any second now.”
I gazed at her and I frowned, something didn’t seem right, “What colour is your shirt?”
She frowned back, “Green.”
I smiled and replied, “Well, that’s a nice brown isn’t it?”
Rochelle clumsily undid the zip; the money became visible, Azrael stated “Ah, that’s some nice brown,”
She smiled sadly, “Unfortunately victims of licoseni see green as brown, nothing else is different physically.”
This was very bad news, “How much longer will I have to live?”
“Medication is too late; I’d say about what . . . 1 month?”
I nodded and walked out, “Thank you for your help, Sam. I’ll pay you back soon. Just wait a month.”
My feet seemed heavy. There was a lot of things I would have to do.
DATE: 17/6/0*
The sun rose as I walked towards where I wanted to go. I was meant to die today, but before I did. I had something to do. I walked up to the doctors’ reception and asked, “I’m here to see, Dr. Nelson?”
The receptionist stared at me for a second then she looked at the small bag I was holding. She sat there for a minute and nodded; it seemed all receptionists like nodding. She turned on her
microphone, “Dr. Nelson you have a client.”
A woman walked out, she had beautiful red hair, green eyes and pale skin dotted with a few freckles. I smiled at her warmly; she was the only person I could ever trust.
She looked at me and smiled back. I all but bounced over after her as I followed her to her office room. She had sad look on her face, “You know I have to apologise.”
I froze what was she talking about, I tried to look at her face, but she flicked her gaze away. Sam closed her eyes and began to talk, “Well, you see . . . I . . . mixed your blood with someone else’s.”
My heart stopped, “What?”
“You don’t have licoseni syndrome.”
She frowned in confusion and Azrael smiled, “You’d understand if you were born a licoseni victim. By all means I’m NOT one, but it IS fun to pretend sometimes, you know?”
My body stopped, “What?”
She smiled weakly, “You’re as healthy as a bull. You just have something wrong with your eyes.”
Oh, no. No, no, no, no! I clutched at my head and began to cry. Sam frowned at me, “You know most people would be happy that they’ll live.”
I looked at her suddenly. . . She was right. I smiled and tipped the contents of the bag onto the ground, a wad of cash fell out, “Consider this your payment for giving me a reason.”
“A reason for what?” she asked as she picked up the money and flicked it through her hands. I
smiled, “Oh, nothing important. It’s just that this is how I like to start my day.”
I walked out of the shop and smiled.
“I love my life, however crazy I will get.”
I laughed; an insane laugh and I know green eyes shone madly in the light the rising sun cast.
I wonder what I would do today.
*Which ever year it is.
**For the purpose of this story I have made up a disease - Licoseni Syndrome.
Okay just in case you guys are wondering, yes, this all makes sense. Here I’ll put the dates in order for you:
DATE: 13/5/0*
Azrael’s mum commits suicide.
DATE: 17/5/0*
Azrael is diagnosed with licoseni syndrome.
DATE: 21/5/0*
Azrael kills his dad.
DATE: 27/5/0*
Azrael kills politicians.
DATE: 5/6/0*
Azrael kills hotel receptionist.
DATE: 12/6/0*
Azrael kills kindergarten teacher.
DATE: 17/6/0*
Azrael is undiagnosed with licoseni syndrome.
DATE: 18/6/0*
The day Azrael robs the bank.
The way it is written:
DATE: 18/6/0*
The day Azrael robs the bank.
DATE: 13/5/0*
Azrael’s mum commits suicide.
DATE: 21/5/0*
Azrael kills his dad.
DATE: 27/5/0*
Azrael kills politicians.
DATE: 5/6/0*
Azrael kills hotel receptionist.
DATE: 12/6/0*
Azrael kills kindergarten teacher.
DATE: 17/5/0*
Azrael is diagnosed with licoseni syndrome.
DATE: 17/6/0*
Azrael is undiagnosed with licoseni syndrome.
The point of this is to show, that behind every random thing a person says; it actually means something to them – whether important or insignificant – things that sound random are actually a lot less random then you think.
