High Priestess and the sinners

Selected: Start of observation

The place has switched: there are four walls around,

The beach has turned out balcony;

It still not safe: dense water reached.

You almost drown, so wait for agony.

V.R.

POV: Murderer

Fair, vulgar noise. Laughter of youth. Screams of fighting guys. Sounds of punches in stomach and slaps. Heavy but smooth thunder coming from a flock of wind turbines like giants spread out in the field. Crickets. Careless evening breeze. Kinda end of the party with local kids. Or just the beginning. Who they are? I only guess there's my character somewhere out here. My ding-triumphal loot. And my loot is really not bad-looking. But such a fucking fool... If I were alive I would choose not another path but another victim for murder. By God, I would have taken out of the ground but killed her. But my goal is to have her commit the murder first. And then it will be mine by default...

"Let's go! Come on, Tony, that's it! Tear it up, Tony! Carl, keep up too, show that nasty bastard who's working out here! Dang, what am I doing here..." Ivy Romero - the maid I'm here for, the one that who's causing all the hype around. She jumped off the hay wagon and defiantly spat on the ground before falling to her knees and covering her face with her hands. Like it's not fun anymore? C'mon Ivy, where's your hilarious energy? "I'd rather have another Tourette fit than watch this... What's going on? Will they finish today or not? What are they looking for? Didn't they think about the fact that for me they both are blockheads? Okay-okay, let them prove to each other... prove that they both are idiots! And then they will solemnly suck each other dick in the bushes, yuh!" Ivy took a patch of hay in both hands and on the last word cheerfully scattered it in different directions. Ivy's frustration erupted into a burst of dark humor, her sarcasm cutting through the tension like a knife. As the hay scattered, it seemed to echo Ivy's sentiment, each piece a metaphor for the scattered thoughts and actions of those around her. In that moment, it felt as though the absurdity of the situation had reached its peak, and Ivy found solace in her own irreverence.

"Oh girl, you're on point as always!" Lloyd, Ivy's best friend has been listening to her appropriate and inappropriate comments about what was happening on the boulevard. He gave her a hand to finally get up from the hay. Ivy couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for Lloyd's presence. In a world fraught with confusion, his unwavering support was like a lifeline, grounding her in moments of uncertainty. "Let them kick each other ass to their heart's content. Tomorrow everyone will forget about this ridiculous situation. Although the members of the "Girls-torn-cunts-club" are unlikely to ever forget it... Because of envy that guys aren't fighting for them." In his eyes, their envy stemmed not only from the lack of attention but also from the realization that they were excluded from the chaotic drama which every teen here craves." What are you waiting for? Stop sitting on the hay like a floosy, give me your hand. Don't provide them with any food for discussion, let them sit and get fucking bored."

Ivy grinned mischievously. With a swift movement, she accepted his hand, rising from the hay. "Yeah, you got it..." Ivy said a little tiredly and immediately turned to one of the group of onlookers, perking up the tone in her voice. "Why are you staring at me, whore?" Ivy made herself to the girls who were sitting on the bench. "Listen, I'll spit in your face tonight! Better turn from me before you taste my hipster whip! And my spit!" In that moment, she was a force to be reckoned with, refusing to be silenced by their judgmental stares. And as she stood there, she knew that she had asserted her presence in a way that none of them would soon forget. They all unabated gossiped about "how they can fight for such a bumpkin as Ivy", "there's nothing to share, she will give herself to everyone anyway". With a dismissive shake of her head, Ivy refused to dignify their words with a response. She knew her worth, and she wouldn't allow herself to be defined by the narrow-minded opinions of others. "...And if tomorrow the whole Metal Point will buzz about this batch, I'll dilute all this gossip with the fact you pay visits to my dad every day in order to powder your nose with cocaine! Yeah, everyone will know that you buy drugs, haha. And since I have proves..." The maid started to interrupt Ivy with her claims. Her attempt to interject only fueled Ivy's resolve. With a knowing smirk, Ivy cut her off mid-sentence, her voice ringing out with a confidence that brooked no argument. What is the Metal Point, anyways? Is there any... index! So, Metal Point 74401, then. At least now I know the coordinates to call for rescue in case of need. Haha, very funny...