The Puppet Show – Chapter 3: Becoming the Hero

Read Chapter 2: The Interview

I went for a drive one night because I needed some fresh air. I needed to rethink my life. Six years as a lawyer and my job was getting too stressful for me, because the damn people didn’t care about me. They picked on me because I never won a case in the six years I was there. My boss hated me, and even he picked on me. They ordered me around, telling me to pick up their dry cleaning, to clean the toilets, and if I didn’t comply, they would threaten me. They would threaten to kick my ass, to hang me by my throat until I passed out but they would make sure I didn’t die. God, I wish they would do it just so I wouldn’t have to see their faces anymore. But that night, I left my house at 2:30 in the morning. I drove around my block and then I came across a highway; a dark desolated highway. I drove and I drove until I came across an unmarked path. I drove down the path and parked my car. I looked at my gun, sitting on the passenger seat, waiting for me to pick it up and use it. I picked it up and placed it on my temple. I closed my eyes and I was so close to pulling the trigger … so damn close to ending my miserable life.

Then I opened my eyes. The hell, there was a car coming from the path. The darkness covered the car, but I could make out the Toyota symbol on the front. There were no headlights on, and I could only make out one person in the car, a man. I ducked down, and placed my gun on my stomach, hoping he didn’t see me. I perched back up and peeked through my window. The window crack I opened allowed in the burning gasoline and rubber tires into my car; I assumed the smell was coming from the man’s old car. The car had stopped several feet away from mine, but I was sure he didn’t notice me. The man opened the car door and took a step forward out of his car. He had a brown trucker hat on, a dirty red and white vest, baggy blue jeans, and brown work boots. This man must have stolen the car and he’s hiding it here, what a perfect place. But once the man got out, he stopped in his track, looked around, turning his body around in a slow circular motion; he was making sure no one was around. His eyesight must have been pretty bad if he didn’t see me or I must have done a badass job at hiding my car. But after the man looked around, he walked over to the back door of the driver’s side and opened it. He began yelling, but I couldn’t make out the words.

Then, he pulled someone from the car, it was a girl! My heart sank, my eyes widened, and I began to notice the rhythm of my breathing from my nose into my chest, down to my lungs, and back out my mouth. I began to shiver, I was damn nervous; this guy had to be a kidnapper or maybe even a murderer! He dragged the short girl out from the car and pushed her to the ground; I could see the debris from the dirt come up from the light of the moon as it sparkled in the moonlight. I was in shocked, this man was pushing and shoving this girl, no girl or human being deserved to be treated this way. The man walked to the girl, grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her, head first, back to the car. I could see the trail marks from her heels as she attempted to push away from the man. He pushed her to the car, and I could hear a loud thud and cries from her. She fought back, swinging her arms violently. I saw her grab onto the man’s arms, and I could see her fingers dig into the man’s arms, clawing away, leaving red marks visible even in the dark. But she stopped fighting back and I assumed he told her to shut her trap because she stopped whimpering too. He pinned her to the car, and took off his dirty vest to reveal an even dirtier white shirt. He ripped off her top, and I could see a button flying across the air in the moonlight, landing on the ground. She shook her head violently, using her skinny arms in an attempt to push the man off of her. She tried her best, and I saw her land several punches on the man, but she was too weak. He lifted one of his hands up to his mouth, spits into it, and lifted it higher into the air, and shoved it down the girl’s short black mini skirt. He began digging down in her skirt, his head held high in pride, laughing, as he continued to dig. I could see his slanted smile, his two missing teeth at the front, and his wide greasy nose.

“And you didn’t think to help Alex?”

“The hell I did Scribus. I thought about it … but this was her problem now.”

I looked down, trying to cover my eyes from the rape. I saw my keys still in the ignition, and I thought I could get away, maybe the two wouldn’t notice. But I knew if I started my engine, they would notice me, so I decided to stay and wait. This man, groping and molesting this poor defenseless woman, he showed his dominance. He had dominance, he controlled her, and he controlled her life. He wanted this girl, and he was going to get her one way or another. He was the puppeteer and I wanted to be like him, I wanted to be this man who exerted his power over others. I chuckled a bit, fantasizing about the wealth of power I would have if I could control everyone. Taking control of the law firm I worked for, being the boss of my boss, telling the devils at work to clean their own damn toilet; taking any girl I wanted back home and showing them a good time. Then I heard more yelling, I looked back up. The man was done fondling the woman, but he grabbed onto her waist and threw her on top of the trunk; I could hear the thuds from her body making contact with the car. She was on the trunk, face-down, as the man continued to have it his way. Have it his way, just like Burger King. This man was the king, and the woman was his burger, his midnight snack. I continued to watch as he pulled down her short mini skirt, placing his hands on the woman’s neck forcing her down, as he licked her body from the top of her neck to the bottom of her legs. The woman struggled; she moved her tiny body around, trying to squirm her way out of the man’s reach, but to no avail. She turned her head and the moonlight captured her face. I saw her face … I knew her…

There she was on top of the trunk, being fondled by a pervert, a freak, the king of the mountain. But as soon as I saw her face, I knew who she was. She was the girl I longed for every day since high school; she was the girl of my dreams, the girl I lost the opportunity to ask out to be with me forever. I knew this was the chance to win her over, to show her how heroic I was, to show her that I was not a puppet, that I controlled my own life, and I was the dominant factor in this situation. I opened the door as slowly and silently as possible, with the silent click of the door opening, I swung my legs carefully out of the door, patting the floor gently with my foot. I did the same with the other foot and got out of the car. I placed my gun in between my belt and my pants and tip-toed towards my trunk. I opened the trunk, peeking around my car to make sure the man didn’t hear me. I saw my long metal bat and I grabbed it from the trunk. The moon was shining on the bat and I looked down to see my own reflection, I nodded to the bat and crept over to the man.

I could hear the silent cries from the woman whose mouth was forced down to eat the trunk as the man continued to touch her. I could hear his grunts and his moans, asking her if she liked it. I was behind the man, and he didn’t hear me over his grunts. I lifted my bat up into the air just as the woman looked behind the man to make eye contact with me. I could still see her eyes widen, possibly with a sense of relief and hope. BLUNK! The sound of the bat connecting with the man’s skull like in baseball. THUD! The man fell to the ground, motionless, and I could see the side of his head bleeding. I looked over to the woman who fell to the ground as she sat on the dirt, trying to cover as much of her body as she could. I nodded to her, and smirked. I turned back around to see the man moving his fingers, trying to get up. I wrinkled my nose up, snorted, and spat at the dirty pig. He tried crawling away, but I didn’t let him. I swung my bat up and gasped as I swung it back down to the man’s skull. I swung my bat up again, gasped and swung it back down to the man’s skull. Again, and again, and again, and again. I lost count as to how many times my bat thrashed against the man’s skull, connecting, feeling the eventual mush of the skull. When I first hit him with my bat, it was like hitting a boulder, but after a while, his skull became like mashed potatoes. But I couldn’t stop swinging my bat down; hitting this pig felt damn good!

I was finally able to stop myself, and I turned around to hear the woman whimpering from the horrific scene. I looked at the man again; his body was intact, dirty like a pig but it was fine, but his head was smashed into pieces. His once greasy nose was now a pile of skin and broken bones, his eyes were misplaced, his skull was opened and I could see his mushy brains leaking out. The blood seeped through into the ground, mixing with the dry dirt. I turned around again to see the girl. I walked over to her, attempting to comfort her, reaching out my hands in order to lift her back up to her feet, but she only backed away from me. She backed up, placing her hands on the ground, lifting her body while kicking her legs to move further away from me. She backed into the rear of the car and I crouched down to see her face. The beautiful face, I could still see it reflecting from the moon. Her oceanic blue eyes were watering, her short soft dark hair was covered in dirt, and her dimples were simply amazing. I smiled at her, got back up to my feet, and walked to my car. I got into my car and started the ignition; I drove past the woman, fumbling through her pockets trying to find what I assumed was her phone. I looked over to the man lying on the ground like the scum of Earth he was, and I thought that this was how dominance and power felt like. Being in control over of your own life, I was finally able to be the puppeteer. I controlled that man, I decided whether he lived or died. I continued to drive as I looked back the scene through my rearview mirror; I began to smile and then laugh, gripping the steering wheel of my car yelling out yes, yes, yes, yes! over and over again. I was finally happy, not because I killed a man, but because I was a new man; a powerful and dominant man.

Read Chapter 4: The Puppeteer

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