Obey. Short Story.

Hope everyone had a good weekend, mine was pretty fun. I went into town for the Pride thing, marched in the parade (and accidentally became a political activist for a short while) listened to some really loud music (which obviously means it was awesome because loud equals quality) and attended a few street parties. I was also blessed by some dude who was off his face on drugs. That was interesting and slightly terrifying. It was a pretty fun day over all, though we called it quits pretty early as we were wrecked, so missed out on clubs and such, which really I’m kinda glad about. If the street parties were anything to go by, specifically the last one we were at, the clubs would be insanely packed. Navigating the crowds was pretty difficult and fairly crappy, but it was still a really fun day.

Twas my first Pride, I know if I’m gonna go again next year I’ll be better prepared with about twenty litres of water and a plan on what to actually do other than walk around and see what happens. Organisation is where it’s at people!

On with the show!

——————————————————————————————————

He looked at the passing crowd, trying to pick his target. He needed to be sure about who he chose, they needed to be the right kind of people. He continued to speak as people went by, a few stopped to listen, most didn’t. That didn’t concern him though. He needed his targets. There, a young woman, he caught her eye and she stopped, he smiled and continued to speak, but this time, he was speaking to only her. After a moment he nodded, she blinked and shook her head then continued on, not seeming to notice the pause. He smiled, she had been perfect.

He continued to speak, finding six more people during the day. When he was finished, he was pleased with his work. It was definitely worth it, though there were fewer than he would have liked. Still, he had a nice back log built up, he could always use one or two from there if he really had to, but for the moment he thought he had enough. They would do their tasks as needed.

The activation was always the worst part for him, the pain of it. There was of course the blood sacrifice, but then that wasn’t too bad, sure it stung, but it was bearable. The worst was when the activation went out, spasms gripped his entire body. Unable to stand, he’d convulse on the ground until it was over, his muscles cramping and burning. When it finally released him, he would lie on the ground for hours, waiting until he had the strength to move again. He checked to make sure that everything was prepared correctly, and seeing that it was, he began. He hoped he wouldn’t knock over the glass of water this time. He was always so dehydrated afterwards and too weak to unscrew a bottle.

The young woman stopped what she was doing and cocked her head, as though straining to hear something. She didn’t notice the boiling water that overflowed from her cup, ran over the table and spilled onto the floor. The kettle dropped from her hand, shattering as it hit the ground. She turned from the table and left the house. There was something she needed to do.

An old man paused while eating, his fork midway between his plate and mouth, food fell from it, landing on his shirt. He didn’t notice. After a moment, he dropped the fork and heaved himself from his chair, the plate falling and shattering. His wife, startled, asked him if he was ok, he ignored her. He had things to do. She moved in front of him, trying to get an answer, he shoved her. Her head hit the corner of a table, her body slumped to the ground, blood oozing from her temple.

The young woman smashed the hall window and reaching through the glass, she unlocked the door, ignoring the blood that dripped from her wound. The house was empty, she sat in the living room and waited.

The family arrived home a short while later, seeing the broken glass, they stayed outside while the father checked that everything was ok. He saw the young woman in the living room, she stood, pointing a gun at him. “Tell them it’s fine.” “But-” “Tell them it’s fine and that they should come in. I have someone outside who will kill them if you don’t.” He cleared his throat, “Everything’s fine, the house is empty. I don’t think anything is missing.” “Good.” The entered and froze when they saw the woman. “Sit. All of you. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt anyone if I don’t have to.” The family sat on the sofa, “Good. You. Tie them up.” The father stood and picked up a length of rope from the floor. He began to tie up his family. “Make sure the knots are tight. I’ll be checking your work.” Once he had finished, she gestured to a chair, “You sit there. Use the cuffs on the table to cuff yourself to it.” He did as instructed. “Perfect. Hold on one moment.” She approached him, “now, don’t do anything stupid. My partner is outside. I want this to go smoothly. If it doesn’t, he will have to come in and then things will get messy. Do you understand?” He nodded. “Good. I’m going to tie you up now. Then we’ll take what we need and get out of your hair.” She looped the rope around his body, then knotted it. “Ok folks. It’s almost over.” She left the room and returned, carrying a can of petrol. She ignored their cries as she liberally doused them and the room. She poured it over herself, then she got the matches. She struck a match and watched as the petrol ignited. She fell backwards and closed her eyes, allowing the fire to burn her flesh. She could no longer smile but she was happy, her job was complete.

The old man was covered in blood, so much. He didn’t think there would be that much. Still, his job was almost done. He looked at the couple lying before him. He dropped the knife and left the room. There was just one last thing to do. He walked slowly and steadily, ignoring the cold. He reached the bridge and slowly climbed the side, then, he plunged into the water below. He relaxed and allowed it to fill his lungs.

He stopped convulsing and looked around, the glass of water hadn’t been knocked over. He carefully reached out and picked it up, then he slowly brought it to his mouth. Most of it spilled down his chest, but the small amount he managed to drink was delicious. There was a sandwich sitting nearby, he took a bite of it, then chewed and swallowed, though he was hungry the effort of eating was too much. He closed his eyes and rested.

He woke some time later and ate the rest of the sandwich. The test run had gone well, he had managed to kill them easily enough. Soon it would be time to send out his army. Once his plan was complete, he could control the people, everyone would listen to him, obey him. Life would be perfect. He would show everyone how they were supposed to live, he’d show them what was best. Soon they’d learn that obeying him was what they were born to do.

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About Alan James Keogh

I am a 26 year old writer who somehow tricked U.C.D. into giving me not only a degree in English and Classical studies, but an Hons Masters in Creative Writing too. Visit my blog where I post short stories twice a week (Monday and Wednesday) and an installment of a serialised novel on Fridays. I did consider writing this in the third person, as though it was written by someone else, but Alan is not comfortable writing in the third person as it seems kinda creepy and unbalanced so Alan decided it was probably best to write in the first person. He hopes it went well for him.
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