He Watches

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He Watches

Post by Haze on Mon Jun 10, 2013 7:42 pm

"Did you have the dream again?"

"Yes."

"Same as before?"

"Same as before."

"Do you want to go through it for me?"

"I go through it every time."

"Yes, yes I know Desmond. Go through it again, for me?"

"It starts with the chase."




The inner-city metro cars are empty in the morning. The only people who wake up with me are junkies and the employed. At Library Road Station, the junkies pile off the train to bleed the charity kitchen dry. One of them catches me looking at him. He's dressed like most of them - in a ruined jacket with the hood pulled up. I look away from his eyes to see he's barefeet. I see his feet shuffle across the station floor, over garbage and broken glass. He hobbles in the direction of the charity kitchen.

My stop is two stops past Library Road. The metro car pulls into an armoured hangar and I get up to leave the car. Eyes stick on me as I pull out my card. I swipe it at the metro car doors, and only then do they open. I step off the car and turn to see one of the metro car guards staring at me. I stare back. My shoes are black and shiny. I don't want him to look down at them, so I wait for the car to leave before I turn and walk through the station. I'm the only one on the platform.



"Who are you chasing Desmond?"

"There's a girl. She's running, but she's not running from me. I'm running after her, calling and waving, but she can't see me and she can't hear me. I run after her, and I start to catch up with her."

"That's when you start running out of breath?"

"I don't run out of breath. I start having trouble breathing. It's like there's something stuck in my throat, something hard and sharp. I stop running, and she turns and sees me. I can't speak to her, there's something in my throat."

"Desmond, do you need to take a break?"

"No. No, I'm fine."

"Just keep breathing."




My shiny black shoes make clicking noises as I jog up the stairs. I find my floor, then I find my hallway, then I find my room. My room is nestled between hundreds of others. As soon as I enter it, it's the only one that's occupied. I close and lock the door behind me, then walk over to the screens. I don't need to turn them on. They're always on.

I sit and I watch the screens.


Screen twenty, someone being mugged.

Screen thirty seven, a rape victim from last night, left bled out on the street.

Screen forty four, a child's body left in a gutter.


I make a note and file my report. Half an hour later, I file another. I keep filing all day. I watch as people walk past the infant's corpse on screen forty four. I watch as people step over it. People with shiny shoes, worn shoes, and no shoes.

Screen forty four. Library Road Station.



"She kneels down in front of me and starts talking to me."

"What does she say?"

"I'm not sure. I don't remember."

"Are you sure she says anything? You haven't remembered once."

"What she says makes me feel better. I'm just not allowed to remember it."

"Because you're not allowed to feel better?"

"She sets me down onto the ground, and then I'm in the hospital. There's a woman above me, in a smock."

"What does she do to you Desmond?"

"She cuts me open."




Library Road Station. I don't need a keycard to get off here. I step off the metro car and head up to the road above. I should have a bodyguard, but I don't. I know the cameras are watching, but no-one is behind them. I'm the only one who is ever behind them - the only one they haven't fired yet. I don't know why. Maybe someone missed out my name on a list somewhere.

Under camera forty four, I see the child. When I step closer, I see things I didn't through the camera. The body is full of rot, and it reeks. It's a girl. I stop.

I don't know what to do.



"What does she find?"

"She pulls out a body from inside me. It's all rotten and it reeks. I start to breath better."

"Then?"

"I thank her. I try to hug her. She steps back and says to me..."

"What does she say Desmond?"

"I don't know, but it makes me feel better."




On a computer screen in an empty room, in an empty building, in an empty street, a man stands. He stares at the corpse of a child in a street gutter. People bustle past him, carrying guns, children, shopping. He doesn't move.

He watches.



Last edited by Haze on Fri Jun 14, 2013 3:13 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Re: He Watches

Post by xeanos on Fri Jun 14, 2013 1:56 pm

Oh, man.
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