Relentless

The water is trickling off my calf onto the floor. An occasional spritz lands on my elbow.

She’s turning red. She’s more fearful than shocked. I can imagine her naked back must be picking up quite a few unwelcome splinters from the door frame grinding into her back.

As for the other she’s just standing there dumbstruck and afraid to move.

I look back to my left hand again. I’m lifting it higher without release.

She’s turning redder in the face.

My right shoulder feels wet as well but I can feel the water shifting with the tattoos coming to life. The ones on my calves are already up and running pushing the water aside gently. The shoulder’s is still creeping forward although it’s not really needed.

I feel heated with anger.

Yet still neither of them recall their modesty nor their responsibilities.

I’m tempted to end them right here, right now. The blade coming from my right hand is already stretching anyway. It’s a fuzzy mix of red and green. The standard colours of a magician’s blade.

Is it above my hand? Or is it below? It’s both above and below. And edging closer. It’ll be really simple to stab her in the head and it’ll all be over.

But something tells me I shouldn’t.

“Do you know what this means for us?! The bible tells us so as well! You should be ashamed of yourselves! His wrath will find us and burns us all! It won’t be the first time!”

And the blade gets shaper still. And yet I choke her harder.

I wake up. Aha….I guess I still don’t like her all that much.