“She’s fucking fine. I’ll give you that. How’d a freak like you end up with someone like her?”
“Maybe she’s a freak too.” I joke with him, not letting him know that in reality she actually is. More than he could ever know.
“Ooohhh, me likey a lot.” He laughs. “Now, let’s kill this bitch, I was in the middle of a really good lunch.”
“Yeah and I was in the middle of an orgasm.”
“Fuck man, TMI.” He says, pretending to gag, making all sorts of gross and wet sounds from his filthy mouth.
Now who needs to focus. You’re avoiding the topic here boy.
“Whoo-hoo! Let’s go!” I yell to the guys behind me, ignoringhimas I step into the heart of the nasty bitch.
The fire is angry, her flames shooting from the counter tops and reaching out for me as I advance through them. They swirl at my feet, hissing as Marcus and the other guys blast them with the water, soaking my boots and pants to keep me from going up. Fireproof clothing is only fireproof to a limit, and these fires burn so hot that even if they don’t burst into flames, they’ll melt to me.
“My legs, get my legs more.” I shout to the guys, making them spray me down as I walk through the mess.
Glass beakers and bottles explode as I make my way through, pushing carts of drugs out of the way. Things are falling and screaming, the heat of the blaze making glass and metal around me warp and snap.
Amongst the screeching of inanimate objects burning, another sound echoes through the gutted room. Sounds that aren’t from things, but from a person.
“Fuck!” I shout, darting to my left towards a doorway that leads to what should be a laundry room in a house of this type. “We’ve got a live one.”
The screams get louder as I trudge through the now flooding floor, kicking things away from my feet as they float by. The men behind me stay in the kitchen, doing what they need to do, battling the center of the beast, taming her, stabbing her with their hose that’s like a proverbial spear to her heart.
“You good?” Marcus calls to me as I kick down an old wooden door, making it blow apart at the hinges with one solid hit from my booted foot.
Splinters of wood scatter and cover my jacket as it falls to the floor with a splash in the water and a heavy thud.
Beyond it is someone huddled in the corner, between a washer and dryer, hiding their face, yet screaming for help. It never ceases to baffle me how people can just hunker down and wait for help. I mean don’t these assholes have any kind of survival instincts? It’s them that causes this shit, then I have to put my life in danger to rescue them, when they should be left to burn up for their stupidity in the labs they cook in.
Let him burn.
“I should.” I grunt, storming through the room, grabbing the guy by the arm, my hand accidentally grabbing a long dreadlock and yanking on it, making him yell out in pain. “Come on. You’ll be screaming a lot louder than that if you don’t get the fuck out of here.” I say to him, lifting him to his feet.
He fights me, his hands swinging out at me, his eyes looking at me like I’m some kind of creature from the abyss, and I can tell that the reason he didn’t try to escape is that he’s so high on his own product that he’s incapable of functioning, beside lashing out.
“For fuck’s sake.”
Filthy animal. Burn him. Throw him out in that fire and let it eat up his useless ass.
“I would love to do that.”
There’s that word again.
“Shut up!”
You’re in here rescuing this piece of shit, amongst all this shit without any fear, yet you’re afraid to say three little words to her. Do I have to do it for you?”
“You wouldn’t, you can’t!”
I can, and I will.
“No.”
Yes!
“No. Now stop. I have work to do.”
