There she sat, stocking-hugged legs crossed over each other, a black, steaming espresso in the saucer resting on her lap. She sat upright and proud, sipping her drink like a queen amongst peasants. The only thing she ruled over, however, was her kingdom of filth. 735Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVDruL2AS7R
The poorly-lit room lay cluttered with immeasurable amounts of miscellaneous junk and rubbish. In one corner lay a haphazardly-stacked pile of pizza boxes, in another a mountain of sparkling designer clothes, each dress, top and shoe torn and ragged. The stench of rancid pumpkins made the un-circulated air heavy, emanating from a pile of sludge oozing over the sides of a rusty birdcage. The light of static played over the graveyard and lit up the woman's face, revealing a pretty, delicate face. Her beauty was upset, however, by the maniacal grin that stretched across it. Behind her thin, wire-framed glasses, flickered a flame which could not be extinguished. 735Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHHj0AvWtmH
Like an addict getting their fix, she sat in white noise, un-moving, blissful in the revolting world that she created.
A violent shattering of glass broke her peace, however, sunlight pouring into the small room from behind heavy, bellowing curtains. Before her face could twist to show the purely satanic hatred she held for the interloper, it was smashed in by the jagged end of a metal bar.
Smack! Smack! Smack! The crowbar pounded into her skull, breaking past her nose, jaw and eye-sockets, blood and viscera spilling onto the bare, dirty flooring. With each decisive strike, a howl of unadulterated glee echoed through the apartment, and with each crack, the carefully-accumulated dust-bunnies scurried away in ripples.
"How's that, bitch!? Ain't so pretty now are ya!?" Bellowing laughter continued until the face of a woman was nothing more than a flattened mesh of bone, brain matter and blood, reminiscent of the trash which the body lay beside.
"Aegis! Aegis, where are ya buddy!? Daddy's comin'!" Crowbar tossed aside, the masked invader dashed towards a mangled mess of twisted metal that may have once been a majestic sword. 735Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDAQLsYdjWZ
"Shut up Siobhan! She's as beautiful as ever!" A forced, fake weep, muffled by the ski-mask.735Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQvwqGYFPKp
"That's right, you tell 'em! See, Darandy's on my side! He may be a bit goofy, but he's somehow still smarter than you! Si is right though, we gotta get back to Erl before those silly men in blue show up! They sure do make a lot of noise! Might wake the neighbours. Ey Earl! Rev up the vrooms man!"
A relaxed, yet forceful voice came from the street below. "Refer to me as Sir Erlenmeyer! For how many moons do I have to tell you, Ma- excuse me - masked stranger! It is thee who requires haste."
"Jus' a minute!" screamed back the former.
The masked man leaned down to the disfigured corpse that lay before him, cupping the mess of bloodied hair and bones in his gentle hands.735Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkmNEdRaklX
"My poor Titania," he crooned in a baritone, "how beautiful your blank eyes are in the moonlight." A slightly squashed eyeball slipped onto the dusty floor. "But you took something very dear to me, and so I merely collected something worth just as much, as interest: your boring, stupid life." The deep voice cracked, and boomed: "Oh Titania, My Titania! May you rest in peaces, and may your nasty cooch remain ever fishy!"
"Make haste! Mine ears detect sirens!"
Finding the controller amongst the trash, the man flicked a switch, rendering the apartment free from the blaring white noise and static. "Finally, peace and quiet. Now we can think, right Daran?" He threw the remote into the stomach of the dead woman and leaped out of the third floor window. In the caved-in face of the corpse, a smiling pair of disembodied, gory lips could be seen, smiling. Trash to trash, dust to riches.
"We were always misfits. The law, emotion, morality, it kept us chained. We never could understand these things. People - our parents mentors the lot of those no-goods - they called us crazy, wanted to lock us up in a fluffy house. We may not understand their stupid little "feelings", but we certainly understand how to break down doors, how to human body -"
"Shut up, Siobhan! I'm tired!" Clutching his head, the freckled red-head shook it until the voice finally relented.
A skinny, dark-skinned teenager at the wheel sighed, straitening his large spectacles. "Let us return to the castle. We can engage in celebrations once the hunting dogs have lost the trail. I lust for chocolate milk."
The battered, rusty Chevy spluttered down a derelict road into the setting sun.
ns 15.158.61.16da2
