Oliver was infuriated. He was filled up with rage and didn’t trust himself to act rationally.
That was putting it mildly.
People were interfering with his plans, with everything. He had no idea how these bags of meat and blood found the will to survive. The forest should have finished them off, but the two that should not be touched let them all pass through. Why did their have to be loopholes in the power that he wielded? Why did everything have to have a balance?
Petunia gets a savior in the unlikely forms of a lesbian and a medical hack. Then that gamer bitch gets help from her stupid bitch friend, the trannies helped each other and the whole fucking lot of them made him sick.
He should have brought his children back sooner than this. He thought it was just a simple matter of slicing everyone’s throats-and it would have been if he didn’t have to play with his mother fucking food. They could have watched all the entrances and exits and made sure that no new players entered the gam.
Fears drove him and what he was capable of. More than joy, it was an art form that no one really understood but him. It didn’t matter, it was still art. Still the giving of joy. But now there was his fucking wife to deal with.
Oliver had ceased being human a long time ago. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but with the more people he killed, the more power he gained. Each life was a breath of air to him.
Sitting in Rex’s apartment, a bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand, he turned when he heard a sound in the darkness. The armchair he was in creaked as the leather moved underneath him. The man that was once called Giles stepped from the shadows. He saw the glowing eyes of the rodents first. They blinked at him and despite them being his creation, Oliver shuddered.
“You’re in deep trouble, Oliver.” The rodents all spoke at once and the sound was like the sound of electricity slicing over his skin. The bottle he was holding burst into shards, as did several bottles on the counter, spilling their contents everywhere.
Oliver leapt from the chair and looked at the thing that was once Giles. “How are you here? Who sent you?”
“Surely you know? It was your dear wife.” A white light began to pulsate in between of the rodents bodies, shining outward like the sun in the darkened apartment. “You remember your wife, don’t you? The lovely Mary. You took her life from her, and those of her two children, and made her far more powerful than she was.”
The white light radiating off of the rate man grew brighter still and there was a blinding flash. When he looked again, Giles was standing before him. He smiled. “Man, I can’t wait till Moira sees me. She’s going to shit herself.”
“WHY ARE YOU HERE?” He screamed, losing all control. “I have a plan, they all have to die! You expect me to do nothing?”
“Oh, we know you will do plenty to take more souls. But we’ll win. We’ll have yours last.”
“You can’t be serious. I’ve lived for over a hundred years! I cannot die!”
“Oh, everything can die, Oliver. If they’re too stubborn to stay dead, well, they just have to be killed again.”
“Is Mary here? She can’t be! I would have sensed her presence!”
“Not as in charge of things as you think you are then, are you?”
Laughing, Giles began to fade away until he was nothing but air and vapor.
Oliver screamed and all the remaining bottles in Rex’s apartment burst into a thousand pieces of glass, falling like diamonds.
Rex came out of his bedroom scratching his head. “Man, what the fuck? What did you do to my apartment?”
“You!” Olive was on him in a second. “You invited me in! You told me your building was filled with idiots and shit! You told me they would be easy pickings! It was you!”
“Sure man, they’re all useless shits, they don’t do nothing.”
“It’s you who is useless, my friend. You’re the useless piece of shit.” He slid the knife out of his coat then plunged it into Rex’s neck. He spluttered and tried to prevent the flow of blood, but there was too much of it.
Oliver stabbed Rex again and again, uttering a word with each plunge: “You. Are. The. Biggest. Piece. Of. Shit!”
Rex fell to the ground in a heap, bleeding from his neck, stomach and chest. “You fucking bastard.” He uttered. “What did I ever do to you?”
“It was more that you were breathing really.”
“Fucker.” Rex said and died in a pool of alcohol and blood.
Oliver was so enraged, he knew that before the night was out a lot of other people were going to die. He had been playing with him when all he needed was his knife. All he needed was their blood.
He sent out a thought and then Edgar and Lenore were there in front of him. “Come with me,” Oliver said. “We have a lot of work to do.”