3:28 “Lay Your Soul to Waste”
#28 of The Underground Part 3: Parasite
Parasite is the third part of The Underground series
Chapter 28 of 29
"Lay Your Soul to Waste"
Intelligence was the key to any survival situation.
Nature proved this many times over again. Even today, animals would instinctively recognize signs that provoked thoughts of feelings of danger. There were creatures such as tiny fish in the seas that would swim away quickly before you could catch them in your paws. They had gut feelings and remembered how things worked from past experiences; survival instincts that would engage without a moment of hesitation. Somehow they remembered their ancestor's experiences.
Which was what was so damn puzzling about people, with much larger and complex brains. Why could some not recognize when their life was in danger?
There were some, he remembered those faces, that all he had to do was speak to them. He loved watching the blood drain from their faces, hoping to God the subject wasn't anything bad. It was a certain distinct pleasure that he took from watching the venomous effects of fear on one's body, and almost humorous when they attempted to cover it up. Why did he enjoy this so much? It was more the love of power over the individual. Something he took pride in being able to do.
Then there were those who truly weren't afraid of him. They were either truly brave, or truly stupid. He knew who would be classified as brave. Unfortunately, he was meeting the one who had a lesser mental ability than some fish, for this one saw no danger tonight.
Xen Hets had been disappointed again.
Standing in the foul smelling alley behind some hepatitis spawning bar, Xen Hets stood, arms folded across his chest. Although things had worked out well enough, he still wasn't happy with the man he paid. If Hets paid someone his hard earned cash, he expected no less than complete success. That was the pact he made with his employees. Some were just too stupid to abide by what would keep them alive.
Hearing the sound of the back door of the bar creek open, then slam shut, Hets turned. That ignorant wretch of a rabbit slowly scuttled out and over to him. This Terwilliger guy was capable, but he seemed to lack the desire to please.
"You know, I paid you a certain amount of money to do a job." Hets said aloud, turning the collar of his tan trenchcoat to the cold, rainy wind.
"Isis is done." Terwilliger replied boldly. "Which means my part in this is done too."
Hets raised an eyebrow, walking slowly towards Terwilliger. "Is that so?" He asked in a placid tone.
"Let's get something straight here." Terwilliger shot back, his tone growing cold. "The whole reason I decided to help you was to take Isis down. That's where our interests were the same! That bitch is history now." The hare laid it all down.
"I paid you for every detail on what she had in store for the one who calls himself 'Alias'." Hets reenforced in a low tone. "You were supposed to report back to me with every mission update, but it's only after the fact that you inform me of Ivan Mihailov's demise. The Lambda Mafia is highly upset about the given set of current events." Hets's eyes went narrow. "Although I share no allegiance to the Lambdas or the PETRA Corporation, do you understand how that disappoints me?"
Terwilliger stood there without a particularly bright look on his muzzle. After a few moments, he finally shrugged. "I'll be honest," Terwilliger replied nonchalantly, "I don't really give two shits about what disappoints you. Not anymore at least."
"Careful, Mr. Terwilliger..." Hets warned in a quieted voice.
"Or what?" Terwilliger snorted. "What the hell is a suit like you going to do?"
Hets slowly took a step forward, closing the gap between the two parties. "Those who I represent do not know the meaning of disappointment, Mr. Terwilliger." Hets explained in a low, foreboding, oily tone. "Rest assured, this is one line you do not want to cross."
"Look, jackass."
Hets let out a low sigh of disapproval.
"I'm a free man." The hare bragged, looking quite pleased with himself. "I can do whatever the hell I want, whenever the hell I want. That's why I wanted out from under that cunt!" Terwilliger unloaded. "Who was it that told you Isis was setting up your fox so you could tip off the OCB and have them move in? Me!" Terwilliger snarled. "I stuck my neck out for you on that one! So no, I won't tell you one more Goddamn thing about where he's going, who he's going to kill, or when we're going to poison one of his bitches-"
The powerful, ash grey stallion's eyes snapped up as the words left Terwilliger's lips. "What did you just say?" Hets's powerful, but calm voice broke through Terwilliger's tirade. "Just a second ago, repeat exactly what you just said!"
"What?" Terwilliger asked, looking put off by Hets interrupting. "I said I aint going to tell you when someone's going to poison the next whore he has hanging off his arm after-"
"You poisoned someone he knows?" Hets asked, a sense of almost aggression forming in his voice. "Why did you not tell me this?" He asked, feeling frustration start to simmer beneath his skin.
"What's the big motherfuckin' deal?" Terwilliger asked, backing up and raising his arms up in question. "You never said keep tabs on the waitress he's bangin'." He laughed slightly, scratching the back of his head. "But keeping tabs on that little vixen wouldn't be the only thing I'd like to do to his bitch." He shook his head, sneering slightly. "Too late for that, I guess."
Hets quickly took a few steps forward, staring into Terwilligers uncaring eyes. "Mr. Terwilliger," he began slowly, but confidently, "there comes times in our lives where we must make certain things clear beyond the shadow of a doubt." The stallion paused for a second, mentally hoping that Terwilliger wasn't going with this where Hets was fairly sure he was. "It is imperative that you tell me exactly, exactly, what Isis ordered you to do to the girl."
Terwilliger scoffed dignified; growing unwisely bold. "Jesus!" He barked in annoyance. "Isis tells me to spike her drink, so I spike her drink!" He shrugged, not caring. "Slip her a micky, drop her a roofie, lace it with anthrax; to fuck if I know what it was! I don't ask why, because it's not my concern. I don't ask what it is, because it doesn't matter to me! I did it because, unlike some, I value my life!"
"That personal value seems to be decreasing as we speak..." Hets replied in a calm, quieted tone.
"Yeah, okay..." Terwilliger ranted, shaking his head condescendingly. "How about you go fuck yourself, alright?" The hare snapped, turning around to leave.
Hets's paw latched onto Terwilliger's arm forcefully, not letting go. "You poisoned her? The girl, the blue vixen?" Hets demanded more and asked less. "What did Isis say it would do?"
The hare's paw slapped across Hets's arm, knocking it away. "Fuck off!" He snarled. "You told me one person! You never asked about anyone else! So, when Isis had me drop some drug into her drink, I didn't ask questions! What's the big fucking deal? She's still breathing! I saw her at the harbor with that creepy fucker a few nights ago!"
"Do you have any idea what you gave her? Was it a liquid? A pill?" Hets asked, mind racing to mentally identify what Isis might have slipped in her drink. "Did you get a name? Did she tell you what it was for? Did she tell you what it would do?"
Again, the soggy-brained hare shrugged. "All I know is that Isis said something about keeping that black fox in line. Beyond that, I don't fucking care. You never said anything about his bitches, so I don't keep track of them. Fucking figure out the rest for yourself, old man..." Terwilliger boldly spat, turning around with a sneer on his face. "I'm done with this shit!"
Hets stood fixed in place for a moment. Slowly and quietly, his feet began to move toward Terwilliger. who was walking away. Terwilliger's problem was that he did not fear Hets. He did not fear the stallion taking away his life as he had with Isis.
Hets intended to remedy that immediately.
Walking up quickly behind Terwilliger, the stallion caught him just above the elbow, spinning him around. In a flash, Hets jammed two of his fingers where Terwilliger's neck met the center of his chest, crushing in on his windpipe brutally.
Terwilliger dropped to his knees like a rock in excruciating shock, gasping and spluttering for air as his paws snapped around his throat. The hare desperately tried to control his breathing, but with his esophagus convulsing, it was nearly impossible.
Hets merely watched. With his eyes cast downward, the powerful stallion strolled around Terwilliger, who gasped and spluttered in agony. Slobber and drool ran openly from his mouth, as he choked and ejected faint traces of blood from his broken windpipe. Watching him wither like a tiny worm, Hets slowly stopped and stood behind the hare. Arms strong like I-beams, Hets latched one arm around the rabbit's neck, then his other to Terwilliger's chin. Pausing for a moment, feeling Terwilliger struggle in submission under Hets's grip, and in one, clearly barbaric motion, the stallion quickly jerked Terwilliger's chin to the right. Hets felt the gruesome satisfaction of the hare's spine and neck twisting and shattering through his back; long ears dropping against his skull. It was truly a unique feeling to have someone die in your arms. As Hets felt Terwilliger's life drain from his body, the stallion took slight pride in ending the hare's pompous life.
Letting go, Terwilliger's corpse crashed to the asphalt with a wet smack; neck shattered, and eyes glassed over in death. The stallion then did as he always did. Slowly, he brushed the lapels of his suit off, straightened his cuffs, and tightened his tie.
"As am I, Mr. Terwilliger." Hets said in a low tone under his breath. "As am I."
Rain dripping from his traditionally cut and styled electric blue mane, Hets knew his work was just starting. This wasn't something he had planned for or expected. He wasn't sure which action he would take from here. It was time to consult other authorities on this matter.
However, because every plan was fallible, there must always be a contingency in place; Hets knew this. Although, he had no set contingency plan tailored for this specific situation, Hets knew what would eventually become necessary, regardless of inconvenience to the carefully laid plans already set. Breaking out his cellphone, Hets quickly dialed the appropriate number, and let it ring.
"Yes, it's me." He spoke into the phone slowly, considering his words carefully. "A serious situation has developed."
Hets paused for a moment, thinking carefully and considering his words. There were severe consequences surrounding his next suggestion. He knew that they would not want to hear it. However, it seemed that the decision wasn't up to them any longer.
"I suggest we move up our timetable."