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God's Hand

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'Darnell, Darnell!'

'Why did she always call him that?, it wasn't his name it would never be his name'

He stood from his bed and walked on his way to see hwat she was now calling him for.

'Darnell honey'

Darnell, Darnell, he hated it so very much, she told him it was his name now, he did not like her, he would never like her, She told him he had to be called Darnell now. She said he wouldn't get adopted otherwise, he didn't like that fact. Darnell was not his name.'

He stood before her as skinny and short as always he looked towards her mouth she said it was because he would never be adopted if she couldn't pronounce his name, he looked at her tongue a small smirk crossing his mouth as he thought so favourably and happily of shoving his hand in and ripping it out, perhaps if she couldn't call him Darnell it would be better, what would her excuse be then?'

-15 Years Later

'Hello I'm Darnell, I'm the owner'

They stood two of them snickering, they laughed at him he knew it they spoke up now.

'Give us the money and nobody gets hurt'

It was typical they were thugs they were fools, they believed they were smarter than him, they reminded him of her and he disliked that. They drew their guns pointed towards him. They asked for him so they should get him.

'Put away the guns, before something bad happens.'

He wasn't scared he was never scared he would never be scared no longer. The voice it spoke to him it told him, he knew it was telling the truth he could tell, they had no bullets they had no willpower, they were weak. They were his prey and they marched to him unwittingly trapping themselves but oh so discreetly knowing just what they were doing somewhere they had to.

-5 years earlier

He awoke, his head hurt and he could not move his body he was weak, he was paralysed he could not remember who he was or where he was. Figures three of them stood before him, he spoke his voice dry and raspy 'Wh-who am I?, what happened?'

He was in a crash this he knew, he most certainly hit his head.

A woman she spoke as she moved toward him eyes tearing her hands holding his 'Darnell honey, how do you feel' She spoke in a loving voice but it felt strange he did not believe it he could not believe it. 'She's lying she always had, she never stops lying, your names not Darnell, it never was' A voice speaks out to him from the darkness looming within his head 'She did this, she caused this, she made this happen. She thinks she's smarter than us, but she's wrong, She is weak You are strong'

A few months passed he was capable of walking now he was able to move and he could feel, he had returned to her this woman who acted so falsely he knew what he would do but it took time, it took planning, he had to wait for the ocean to open up before he could Split the Red Sea. he laughed but not in jest.

She was slowly destroying herself he wasn't doing anything wrong, her medicine disappeared here and there she forgot things, started falling some, and finally she lost her tongue.

-4 years later

He had been let out now finally, oh how the system had so easily been fooled, they thought they broke him, but he merely bided his time, he sometimes liked to wait, they didn't like it when he disagreed so he made sure that everyone was on the same page. Smiles because we're all happy.

His name was Darnell to them he guessed and so he took to pretending, he knew it wasn't true he knew his name was different but he also knew how they worked and how they'd slowly try to chip him apart, small snips of the clay moulding around him torn off like weathered leaves from their trees.

He was not them, he was smarter, He was strong.

'So how are you today Darnell? have the voices gone quiet?'

'They only whisper now, but they don't lie like you do, I know your secrets, do you know mine?'

The docotr the therapist the psychiatrist, he had stalked her for a while even in captivity a true hunter can study it's prey, she was single, not very attractive but she was smart, just not as smart as him. He knew she knew, and he knew she couldn't be trusted, she was a liability, he couldn't so easily fool someone who spent so long analysing, even an idiot can catch a deer if left long enough in captivity.

'Why did you kill her?'

'She was a liar, just like you'

A pen would drop from her desk in mere moments, he would watch it so intricately, she would catch it surely. She would die painlessly enough, and quiet. He had been left here long enough it was time to escape the cuffs left upon his wrists and ankles, to let loose the ball and chain.

Silence of course, his lines had been rehearsed to himself this entire speech seen through, he'd talk perhaps somewhat cliche, it would take her time to write this way, and perhaps his knowledge might provoke her own. Her throat was supple and open he could puncture it so well, and so easy, but yet he couldn't or perhaps he merely shouldn't, she needed to die discreetly. He needed his time as she needed hers.

As she lowered finally to pick up the now fallen pen he would almost question himself, the timing would have to be perfect, Just before she would lay her hands upon it he would speak .

'I know you write everything I say'

His voice a monotone dull chord. But enough t perhaps spook her senses into hesitance, time was a large factor and he would ake it's usage seriously. Standing behind her he would pounce her hand just touching the pen he would slap her own hand into her jugular this way she would die quietly, and no prints else her own would be found.

He left now a small essence of her blood having been succulently placed upon he, her life force stolen, just like the tribes before him.



He was the owner but he was not himself and one who was not themselves could not truly be viable, correct? To them it must have been merely a normal occurrence a nice hit and run, money secured, perhaps they had a reason and perhaps they'd plead. But that didn't matter for him, he was a savior and he needed to feed otherwise he would never accomplish what was needed.

He walked them into his nice alcove a gas station, they had the guns they had everything but he had his tricks and he had his means, they followed of course they thought they had the upperhand, he would let them think he was nervous it was the only way he could truly have fun. he walked past the register, perhaps that should have been the sign they needed to run, a gas cap flicked.

'Have you ever been burned?'

He took his action now as silent as ever perhaps unrealistically so, he was sullen the gas cans struck them out of surprise they could not shoot now there guns useless, no matter how mad they were no man would burn himself out of simple annoyance, none but one with no brain. They cried, their eyes were held upon the cups of their hands, he smiled before slipping his gloves on carefully, he would not touch such grease he was not immune to pain and he was no fool. he struck the backs of their heads with a bull head hammer their bodies would be so simple to dispose of. he could leave now he grabbed their wallets took the money and cards.

He slouched beneath the counter and lay the manager across them, his own personal bonfire. He lit a cigarette the nicotine rush hitting him almost as fast as the adrenaline but he would not stay like such. He threw it upon the pile and watched for a second before he left.

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