Posted by: theboyfromsmallville | February 14, 2007

This is me, not getting mad—this is me getting even

(Reader participation needed. Help, please)

The curly-haired, muscled guy sat in the chair unconscious. Bound to it should be more apt. Chained. His neck had gone limp from the tranquilizer I shot into his veins. And his head dangled awkwardly to one side.

I sat in front of him, gun in hand.

Right. That’s true. While all of you celebrated Valentine’s Day yesterday by going out to romantic dinners, watching movies or just chilling in your room by your lonesome, I undertook a different adventure.

I hunted down the guy who I knew would be frolicking on that particular day, shot him with a tranquilizer gun loaned to me by a friend who works at the Sta. Ana race park veterinary office, hauled him off to some deserted warehouse on F. Manalo street in San Juan and bound him to a chair with dog chains.

Then I sat in front of him; waited for him to regain consciousness.

Okay. So I wasn’t really holding a gun. I mean, not a gun, gun. It was a water gun. Still, it would prove useful. If I got impatient, I would spray the guy’s face to wake him up.

I’m really not a violent person. But for most of my life, I’ve been tormented by just one guy. One guy who always seemed to get the best of me. One guy who always seemed to know how to ruin my life.

And I’m about to get even.

So there I was. Sitting with a lighted cigarette tucked between lips cocked in a villain-ish half-smile. Dressed in a black shirt and jeans, I watched as the bluish-gray wisps of exhaled smoke snaked its way upwards and stared intently at the guy in front of me.

He didn’t look so powerful anymore. Stripped from the waist up as he always is, he hardly looked like a god. I reached for the floor, lifted the crossbow that laid beside my chair and dropped it against the scatter of arrows on the floor.

It made an irritating, clanging sound. The guy in front of me stirred. Slowly, he raised his head, squinted and tried to regain his bearings. When he finally realized what had happened, his face registered a look of shock.

Since I was seated against the light flowing heavily from a rooftop opening, he had to squint to get a glance of me.

I gave him my best bad-guy look, took the cigarette from my lips, exhaled exaggeratedly and leaned forward, my elbows resting on my lap.

“Hello, Cupid,” I said.

“What.. Am… I… Doing… Here?” he asked. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”

“Who I am is not important. It’s who I represent that should scare you.”

I got up, tossed the cigarette down the floor and crushed it with my foot.

“You see, Mr. Immortal, I happen to represent everybody who you’ve HURT. WITH. THESE. FRIGGIN. ARROWS!”

I kicked the scatter of arrows and the crossbow on the floor and watched him wince at the sound. The veins in my neck started to bulge outwards and my face was reddening so I had to take a deep breath to calm myself.

“Look, I don’t know who you are, but whoever paid you to do this, I can pay double,” he begged. “Just let me go.”

“Let you go? LET. YOU. GO?” I screamed. “Oh no. It’s not going to be that easy ass-wipe.”

“I’ve spent all the years of my life trying to figure out why you carelessly shoot these stupid arrows of yours at any direction unmindful of who they hit. I’ve tolerated the loneliness, I’ve suffered nights of emotional torment and I’ve faced humiliation and rejection so many times that I’m fit to run for president of this godforsaken country!

“Let you go?!?! After all these years of searching for the meaning of that emotion you represent and running into a brick wall each time? You know how many brick walls I’ve rammed into? You know how many bruises I’ve grown running into those brick walls because of you?

“So no. I am not letting you go. I leaving you at the mercy of Smallville residents. They will decide what should happen to you. In the meantime, acquaint yourself with your surroundings. You’re going to be here for a while.”

I took one arrow, touched its tip on his neck, right at the jugular area and ran it down to his heart.

I could have easily thrust it right there and then, given him a feel of what he’d been inflicting on humanity for years.

But hey, I told myself. We live in a democratic country. And democracy is a power of numbers. So figured it was best to let others decide how this little chapter will end.

I turned around, walked towards the exit and ignored the faggoty screaming coming from the guy they call Cupid.

I opened the door of the abandoned warehouse, walked out into a glorious sun-bathed afternoon, slammed the door to muffle his cries and locked it. I tucked the key into my jeans pocket and hailed a cab that took me to the office.

It’s up to you guys.

Cupid’s fate is all up to you.

You decide.
 

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Responses

  1. blow up the house. (of course, before playing with him for a while) great writing there.

  2. Hmm. You sound like a scorned lover. Wanna get even? I’ve got one naughty thought, but I’m sure you know what it is. Good luck!

  3. hey, take it easy on him. i’m sure he’s got some pretty good reasons for careless shootings. chill out, alright. i could talk to him if you want… :-)

  4. sorry man.

    i’m voting for the KILL.

    (can i watch? i’d love to get even too.)

  5. sakto… let’s gang up on him and watch him slowly die. kill kill kill!

  6. why kill cupid? you have his arrows, right? hook him up with mahal! or mura.

    *evil grin*

  7. take it easy…he just wanna “help”, i guess…besides, it’s up to the “victims” how they’ll gonna be, right? ^_^

  8. oi, me kakampi na ako, kuya cois!!!

  9. pakawalan mo na. di naman ‘yun kasalanan ni kupido eh… trabaho niya ‘yun. matuto ka kasing umiwas sa susunod. pinipili mo kasi dapat mabuti kung aling pana ang karapat-dapat tumagos! hindi mo kelangan saluhin lahat ng panang pinapakawalan niya.

  10. Okay. So far it’s five to punish Cupid and three to let him go.

    Hmmm…

    I left him with sardines and a plate of cold rice. He should be good for another two days before we decide what to do with him.

  11. wag namang two days, kuya! tagalan mo pa! lalaban pa kaming mga kakampi ni kupido. hehehe.

  12. Dapat paglabas mo ng bahay eh may dala dala kang gas at ibinuhos mo sa paligid ng warehouse sabay tapon ng yosi matapos ang huling hitit. Tapos hirit ng isang makabagbag-damdaming linya na gaya ng “Adios” o something like that, with matching gangsta look. Yan para cinematic. Hahahahaha.

  13. Wow, wish I stumbled on this blog last V-day.. not that it matters but sana yung conclusion ng story is: after being starved and subjected to mental torture by an endless loop of Britney Spears, Westlife videos and PGMA’s SONA speeches, you suddenly tell him you’re letting him go and throw the keys of the handcuffs at him. You exit the building. A loud explosion is heard as the key is actually wired to detonate a super micro bomb in his handcuffs.

    -fin-

    P.S I like the fact that you keep mentioning that warehouse in F. Manalo– I know that place so I can imagine killing Cupid there so much beter.

  14. W.O.W.
    Now that’s imagination. Anyhow, I am pasting this on the other post so it can join the ranks of those who volunteered to get back at Cupid.
    Hehehehe.
    Ain’t F. Manalo street a quaint place to get something violent done?


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