The little, single-cabin truck whipped down the road going twenty over the speed limit. Wind filled the cabin and wove in and out of our hair. He watched the road and I watched him. His beautiful, glistening eyes were glued to the filthy pavement twisting ahead of us. His eyes were mine by contract, and I couldn't wait to have them. His deep voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Aattila," his voice was suave but stern, "you're staring again."
I looked away quickly and said nothing. Sometimes I got carried away, lost in his figure and his musky scent. I just want those eyes! It's making me giddy, I cant keep my mind off it. Our contract was signed over a year ago, and my friend Dudley here, was stalling.
"When are you gonna hand 'em over?" I asked, "You know I'm long overdue for some pretty green eyes."
He cringed a little, and then got this look on his face like he was thinking of what to say, but ultimately said nothing. He knew he was stalling...taking his sweet time.
We traveled further up the mountain to our pine green destination. I liked the way my ears popped the higher the little truck traveled. He slowed suddenly in order to guide the truck down a small dirt road. It was bumpy, and dirt flew up around us sending a fine powder in through the window. Dudley's arm became caked in the brown dust because he drove with it hanging out the side. After a minute or two of being jostled about, the road smoothed out and a lake was coming up to the left. I always loved the red and pink paint the sun would spill onto the dark water. But I didn't see it today, clouds were forming overhead, and they were blocking its hot rays from pouring onto the surface.
We passed the lake and sat in a strange silence for what seemed like forever until we approached a stout log cabin. Part of it was sunk into the forest floor from numerous flash floods that spilled down the mountainside. As we pulled up, Dudley shut off the engine and we heard crunching gravel behind us.
"Ah finally!" an eager voice said, "we've been waiting for hours, Tilly."
I whipped around to see a enormous, burly man who looked like he ate guys like me for breakfast. A deep scar ran down the side of his face. He had a glass eye, and refused to put an eyepatch over the creepy thing. His hands were stained with what looked like blood. I ran and jumped into his burly arms.
"I hope we're not too late!" I exclaim as he pulls me into an embrace, "you know I like to see you take out the eyes."
