Yes, I have time to be witty…
He recalled the wrong words, but that white line appeared in front of him again. He traced it with his right hand, which led it to the side of a wooden chair. His instinct kicked in. He didn’t get to scream since everything below his chin hurts, but he smashed and shattered the chair against Benok’s body.
A line appeared once more.
Benok was staggered. He ignored his brain and muscles begging him to stop the same way they hurt after he had done cardio for a straight hour. Enteng punched him again. Benok fell to one knee. That white line appeared again. He grabbed another chair and broke it at the top of his skull. Line. He followed it and kicked his side.
He probably hurt his leg, but there was another line. Enteng elbowed him this time and punched his neck. The combo ended when a line led him to dodge Benok’s desperate sweep with the back of his hand, and Enteng’s fingers fell onto the bloody hilt of his stone club.
Enteng trembled at its wet touch.
It was the same weapon that killed his family.
It was dark, but he trusted that line. This time, Enteng screamed like a madman that got his balls crushed by a falling potted plant. His voice cracked, but it won’t be much of a problem anymore. He grabbed the club with both hands, dodged Benok’s fist, and smashed his head, ripping the candies out like a pinata in a ruined children’s party.
Blood sprayed across Enteng’s face as Benok’s headless body limped and fell. He didn’t complain about Enteng’s shouting.
His chuckles turned into a helpless laugh.
There weren’t any lines anymore to follow.
Tabu was watching him.
He wondered where his wife and kids were. Maybe they’re safe somewhere.
He tried to wipe the red from his face, but it just got sticky. They’re safe now, somewhere, and of course, they’re not the only ones who got attacked.
He could hear their neighbors screaming, begging. He picked up Benok’s club. He had something that would cut and sever, but this was fine. It’s easy and satisfying to use. But, there’s something wrong with it. He didn’t want to put his finger on it, but he smashed Benok’s body and tainted the weapon with his flesh before conjuring another thought.
Now, he just needed a drink.
He couldn’t. There was nothing in their house, anyway. He did not need to buy one.
He slicked his hair at the back of his head and wiped his hands clean with his shirt. He walked into their bedroom.
His wife wasn’t there.
Of course. He grinned. He shook his head and took a pack of cigarettes from the closet. He lit one and soon puffed out smoke with a satisfying breath.
Enteng could already imagine his wife barging in from somewhere like a ninja at this faint minty smell, but she didn’t come. Of course. He sat at the side of their bed. He scooched to reach her pillow. He smelled it. His eyes watered, but that was it.
He didn’t want to live, but here he was, wrapping himself with a thick black leather jacket to complement his pants with a bitter smile. He won’t be pestered anymore. He huffed, puffed, picked up his stone club again, walked out of the door, picked up a small potted cactus from the garden that walled their house, and moved forward without looking back.
“Let’s go, George. I don’t know what’s happening, I don’t want to talk about it. I’ll just pretend that I’m wasted, but let’s do something fun, yeah?” He looked at his cactus and wished that he was doing what his family wanted. He tapdanced at their garage and bowed to the wind to welcome applause. “Let’s kill those bitches. Let’s save a few friends, and die… maybe as soon as it gets tough. Maybe.”
Enteng widened his grin.