unStopabble | unOrdinary Fan-fic

Chapter 20

"Are you sure you don't want any help?" Blyke asked, twiddling his thumbs. He was sat on the sofa, supposedly watching a wildlife program, but he often caught himself looking back to the controlled chaos in the kitchen.

"Relax." William sipped his beer, focused on how lions prowl before the strike, "No one can interfere with his process once he's in the zone. Trust me."

"If you say so." Blyke was hesitant, but forced himself to face the soon-to-be bloody screen - the lions were close to their still oblivious prey.

Not a single cupboard was left unopened and every item had been carefully sived through. John scratched the tip of his nose, having his other hand placed on his hip. He was surrounded by the army of kitchen contents cleverly organised into legions, each with a specific purpose. He, being a natural cook, could no longer resist the pull of the kitchen and was swept up in its intensity.

Dancing his fingers across the spice containers, he picked out the cinnamon and popped open its black lid. Lifting the pot, he sniffed the warm, woody scent. John was a tad out of practice, given his circumstances. But, with the latest developments of his recovery, he took the opportunity to reintroduce himself to the art of cuisine. This was his time to reorganize and learn what and where everything was, as this knowledge would make future experiments a much smoother process.

"Those peweny lionesses don't stand a chance." Blyke mumbled, staring at the tv screen. John was also intrigued by the scene presented, frowning. Three lionesses were advancing on a giraffe - all it would take was one false move on their part and they'd be gonners. The giraffe was too strong for them. The lionesses must have been aware of this.

"Don't forget, when they hunt powerful prey, the male usually get's involved." William nodded, "At that point it's game over. He's just too strong."

On queue, a huge, roaring lion pounced from the shrubbery. It's mane was like a flame in the wind and its black claws sunk into the the giraffes flesh. John toughened his grasp on the cinnamon, fixated.

He watched the giraffe struggle and collapse under the predator's crushing weight, suffering a final, killer bite to the neck. Like that, the lionesses were treated to a meal all thanks to the king of the savannah.

"Holy fu*k." Blyke gasped, "Poor giraffe."

"Told ya." William said, "Lions are unbeaten."

The two turned away from the screen as a lound clang of plastic on stone tore through the room."Excuse me." John muttered, running to the bathroom. The cinnamon had been tipped over, laying on its side, abandoned.

Shutting the door behind him, John stepped to the white sink and held onto its cold, porcelain rim. Breathing heavily, he peeked at his reflection through the vail of black bangs. The cold and sterile white light drizzled down onto him, harshly contouting his gaunt features and washing over the pale blue hue of his thin, vainy skin.

"Calm down." He said, his lip trembling, "It's just a bunch of lions. It has nothing to do with you." His hands were shaking. The lions didn't matter. He killed people. Nothing could bleach a stain like that.

The way the animals hunted - the lion taking down the most powerful prey, while the others took on weaker targets - was just like his missions.

Monster.

Murderer.

You killed her.

An image of Sera's butchered body and lifeless blue eyes appeared, taking over his mind. He winced, pressing his palms into the sockets of his shut eyes. Whimpering, John hunched over the sink, helplessly haunted by his past.