It had started as part of her work. The Boss had brought in the plants and said to take care of them because they had... What had he said? Oh, yes: “certain useful properties.”
Clair didn’t know what he meant. Nor did she know anything about plants, though an outside observer might have said that she shared her intellectual properties with them.
However, Clair ignored the old Master of Potions. She always thought and moved slowly, and didn’t usually deal in much that didn’t involve brute force. To everyone’s surprise, Clair took to the plants.
She was in the little greenhouse every morning, watering and pruning. She’d even been heard talking to the plants, in the sort of voice ordinary people might use to talk to a kitten.
Clair didn’t talk to kittens that way. The rumor on the street was that she ate them for breakfast.
In those half-dozen pots placed across the min-greenhouse, for the first time in her life Clair found something to love. And love them she did, with a passion that made her fellows vaguely uneasy.
When the boss sent them out on a job, Clair seemed the same as always. She threatened the marks and shook down businesses with her usual mindless menace.
But she was different... so was her City. It all felt like it was the beginning of a horrible ending.
YOU ARE READING
MINDLESS MENACE: HOSTILE TERRITORY
HororHumanity will soon fail over the war on drugs. Meaningless victories, buried failures, created struggles and encouraged collapses, are just now filtering into the newly-reformed world where Clair's howl gets the troops in line when they're unfocused...
