Chapter #6Use them to get you off by: Unknown Holding the group of minute hostages within your palm, you consider your options. You could just kill them, a simple clench of your fist and they would be reduced to messy smears in your palm. You could keep this batch as your personal slaves, forcing them to do the unspeakable, knowing that refusal meant certain death. However darker thoughts begin to take hold in your mind. You've always enjoyed asserting dominance whenever you could, but until now you've been subdued by society's "standards", forcing you to conform to the expected behaviour. You have the opportunity now to be as cruel and as evil as you want, without any repercussions. Sure, you've already killed a great number due to your actions, but that was you just playing around. Now you want to properly annihilate this puny, sub-human city that sits atop your desk and all the pathetic microbes who dwell within it. You see yourself as a vengeful, all-powerful god, bringing the fury of the heavens down upon the unfortunate people below. No doubt, any psychologist would have a field day with your psychosis with thoughts like these, but who cares? No one will ever know about this tiny city and its worthless inhabitants. The world wouldn't believe you if you told them anyway. Looking down at the terrified captives standing in the vast plane of your palm, a sinister smirk crosses your face. You do not care to discern men, women or children. To you, they are all the same: bugs for you to crush.
Bolstered by your disturbing but thrilling desires, you slowly begin to close your fingers around your captives. You watch the frenzied movements of the crowd as they desperately plead with you to spare their lives. A few of the braver souls even jump off your hand, preferring their airborne chances to those atop your appendage. Their screams reach your ear as little more than a barely perceptible tinkle, and you look down at them with malice one final time, before swiftly clenching your fist. You feel a series of small "pops", causing you to laugh. These people are truly pathetic! Slowly, you unfurl your fingers to admire your handiwork. Your palm is dotted with numerous red splotches, bits of microbial dismembered bodies here and there. You wipe your hand off the underside of your desk and turn your attention back towards the city. Smoke billows from the previous "encounters" as panic engulfs the metropolis. "Your god is very angry with you little fuckers", you say with sadistic glee. The city is roughly the size of your desk, so it shouldn't take too long to destroy. You take a final look at the mostly unblemished cityscape before you begin your assault and smile.
Without warning, you shoot your hand out and swat at some of the "skyscrapers". Immediately, they break apart and fall like dominos, showering the pedestrians below with a mixture of glass, concrete and office furniture. It's amazing how easy it is to knock over their puny buildings, and for the next minute or two, you flick at a few other towers, instantly reducing them to rubble, and sending deadly projectiles of metal and concrete across the metropolis. After a while, you tire of your little game of "dominos" and look for your next sources of entertainment.
A lone subway train catches your eye. Obviously, some previous act of yours has sabotaged its ability to run and so it has become marooned on a single stretch of track, a metal unmoving prison for those unlucky enough to be inside. Using two fingers, you pinch the end carriage of the train, and slowly hoist it up in front of your eyes. It dangles in front of your face like a metallic string of spaghetti, and you peer inside the carriages to see tiny people strewn about the place, screaming and in utter fear of your presence. Their actions do little to evoke anything other than excitement out of you, pondering what to do with your little captives. All the destruction has made you hard as a rock, as your penis stiffens against the tables underside. Looking at the carriages swaying in the air, a fun thought springs to mind.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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