Purple is the Face of Death

CHAPTER 8: MAN AND BEAST

"VIVIAN CLARK: DEAD FROM OVERDOSE? Famous soul fever survivor and online activist Vivian Clark is found dead in her apartment last night after overdosing herself with over-the-counter medicines, leaving a note that says: 'BETTER DEAD THAN SUFFERING'. In a time where we are surrounded by death, is this the time to—"

I turned off the radio with one violent yank of the plug out of the outlet. You know what time is it? It's time for fucking vengeance. God (or any other heavenly being out there) has already abandoned us. The world is in chaos. The least we can do is take advantage of this time to give the sweet taste of justice to those who wronged us.

After getting all the supplies I need, I secured every lock in the house to make sure no one will touch any of my goddamn stuff while I'm gone. I took a glimpse at the back of my pickup truck, full of insane amounts of firearms and ammunition. The reflection of a man too damaged and broken to even bother shaving his facial hair appeared in my car window when I looked at it. A man fueled with the desire of taking revenge.

"Let's fucking do this."

I entered my car, opened the windows, and started the engine. Throwing my body's last bit of morality out of the open window, I started driving fast—so fast, I was a blur in the road. I can't wait to escort some bastards to hell.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

First stop. Raynold Ho.

The man who fucking raped my younger sister when she was 10 (and the bastard was 28 that time) and got away with it just because he's filthy rich. Guess what happens to pigs like Raynold?

"H-henerry...you're doing b-b-big mistake, I-I-I give you anything you want! Just d-don't kill me!"

The pig cried like a newborn being pushed out of Satan's asshole. All tied up on a chair and wet with a disgusting mix of his own bodily fluids. All of the people working for him already went back to their homes to spend the countdown to the apocalypse with their own families. (Because let's admit it: who would spend the remaining time of their lives slaving away under the command of someone else?) This made the entire task so much fucking easier.

It is disgusting to have tapped his cheek with my clean hands after wishing him a safe trip to inferno. "You better hide when we'll meet down there." What a shame for him to be imprisoned in this fancy cell he called mansion.

"Oh yeah. Hell will break free!" In the middle of the street where no soul was around, it is exhilarating to launch bullets into the sky. Birds, probably despise me by now.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Oh life, it's bigger

It's bigger than you

And you are not me

The lengths that I will go to

The distance in your eyes

Oh no, I've said too much

I set it up

While driving, I just drew open fire to any living person I pass by. I'm doing the bastards a favor by killing them quick anyway. No soul fevers for them anymore. Now I am loving the sound of shattering glass windows.

"Shit!" I hissed with my own stupidity. Did I just actually stopped my car after the red traffic light? I picked up a sick riffle at the back of my truck and started blowing up the entire post of that traffic light, it even smoked and flared fires.

A voice shrieked from behind. I knew this guy, or shall I say gay, who once devised a humiliating way to ridicule me, and, especially my little brother on social media for his trivial attention-seeking disorder with his neighbors. Intentionally, I missed to hit his feet despite of aiming at it. You running at number five on my list Nickelsen.