Fascinating Villains

{20} - To Buy Or Not To Buy Milk

I am obsessed with milk. I really wish this was some kind of elaborate metaphor; sadly, it is not. I do not know how this happens, but I never have the right quantity of milk inside my refrigerator. I believe I consume it in standard amount, yet I am consistently out of milk. Of course, this always occurs exactly after I have already bought my weekly groceries. And the rare times I have attempted to buy more milk in prevention of this phenomenon, I inexplicably failed to use all of it and ended up with spoiled leftovers. I hate wasting, so I decided to leave milk out of my errands. Now, I simply do the - more or less - rational thing: I buy milk whenever I finish my last container, not a day earlier or later. I have considered devising a complex system to track my milk consumption, involving measuring it every time I drink some to ration my supply. I felt as though that was more unhinged than my current solution... And even less practical.

After approximately three hours of overtime, I have finally left Gotham General Hospital. I did my best to ensure the wounded criminals were collected by the police officers who came by and that said pick up did not get in the way of the medical staff and professionals. I might have tried to spare a few of them if it had not been for my boss' explicit orders. Besides, the chaos and frenzy that reigned all day long made my environment too unpredictable for me to risk hiding patients or "misplacing" them. One could argue the uncertain atmosphere and the lack of precision regarding formalities would have aided me, still the presence of countless renegades was a definite hazard. I could not ignore the fact that unlawful individuals - or even other patients - may observe me without my knowledge and accidentally or willingly report my actions.

Today was intense, to say the least. And now, I need to go buy milk.

I have driven to a convenience store that is at a middle distance from my workplace to my home. A gangly young male seems to be the lone employee, nearly dozing off at the cash register. I rapidly make my way to the milk refrigerators.

Let's see... If today is the 26th... November 26th... Then, the best dates are around the 4th or 5th of December... And if I can get a later date, I won't refuse...

I take possession of a carton of milk that is best before December 6th, feeling slightly relieved. Regardless of the advanced hour and the apparent nightfall, I took my time and it paid off. Maybe I will overthrow the curse of the milk once and for all. As ridiculous as it is, I am glad that buying milk can still go according to plan. Loud shouts and guttural laughter, emanating from behind me through the store's thin windows, interrupt my thoughts... And crush my momentary optimism.

I hear the door slamming open with the frantic ringing of the tacky bell that hangs above it. Holding my beloved pint of milk, I turn around. The sight alone is frightful enough to make me drop the two liters of milk. Instead, I cling onto my product and gingerly step back into the shadows behind a tall stack of cracker boxes on the closest shelf. The Bull, in all his blood-curling glory, has entered this convenience store, flanked by four of his cronies and roughly six women...

Cheryl.

I cease breathing. She is with them, speaking with one of the men, with a visibly unwell blonde female latched onto her for support. I recognize these males as high-ranking members of The Voiceless Beasts, they are the gang's lieutenants or whatever the correct term would be. They are undeniably dangerous. And, even worse, the troublesome individuals clearly all are intoxicated to an inhuman degree.

Thankfully, the alcohol is stored away from the grocery aisle, so the henchmen do not notice me while they choose their poison. I am hoping they might make this quick, unrealistically enough. To my great dismay, The Bull and his associates are instigating conflict with the unfortunate cashier.

The Bull is a remarkably tall specimen, with bulging muscles that look hard enough to break solid objects, skin of ebony and a thick gold hoop pierced through his septum, reminiscent of cattle. He is effortlessly intimidating and his reputation would terrify any sane person.