I tip toe down the long stretch of the hospital ward. It’s scary how quiet I can move, which is almost an instinct learned from bird watching. The thing about observing animals, you see them hunt and fight for survival. Kind of like us humans. After reaching the end of the ward, I find retreat in a small maintenance cupboard. I fish out a map scrunched in one of the many pockets in my trench coat. The map illustrates a diagram of the building’s interior, so I can navigate with ease. My primary destination is now only a three minute walk away. Before I leave, I withdraw some of the supplies from my backpack. After wrapping some tape around the rope, creating a makeshift fuse, I immerse the contents of the cupboard with fuel. The fuse should burn up within a matter of minutes. Timing is crucial.
Loudening speech can be heard as several elderly come into range. ‘If only we spent more time with her’ ruefully empathises one lady before the other belligerently retorts ‘Yes, I know, but if we stayed any longer I’d have gotten a parking ticket’. I’m almost at the controls room now. My aim there is to shut down the alarm systems, and dispose of any security. And it’s my lucky day because one security guard departs in the direction of the restroom. After he’s out of sight I vigilantly approach the door. Gingerly opening it, I walk in…
The second security guard sits at his controls desk, oblivious to my presence with what appears to be a head set on. My hand grips the knife unsheathing it at the same time. I lurch forward and sink the knife deep into the underside of his throat. The blow initiates a synchronised display of fireworks and rocketing blood. Before he reacts, I twist his neck in an angle that effectively breaks it. His body stills and reduces becoming insubstantially recumbent in his rotatable chair. Before I can remove the saw-like-knife lodged into his neck, I hear footsteps upcoming. There’s no time to attempt to extract the knife! Although I spot a tool box in the corner with a mallet on top. The door creeks open. And with one swift swing, the hammer violently smashes into his cranium, like breaking egg shells on a dish. He stumbles backwards, and with another blow his newly disfigured face abandons him.
Jumping back to the controls desk, a volley of punches on buttons subsequently turns off the water sprinkling system, so my inescapable fire won’t be restrained. The monitoring screen shows the maintenance cupboard already blazing out of control. I dump the rest of my flammable agent equidistantly around the controls room. And after dowsing it with fuel, I light the edge with my lighter. The erupting inferno of flames is somewhat impressive.
I sprint back and distance myself from the exit I came in. ‘That was quite an adrenaline rush’ I murmur to myself. However I shortly realise my throat became raw and pained from the smouldering smoke. So I’m relieved to be in the cool fresh air again, and imperceptible under the overgrowth of foliage. I can’t help but feeling rather proud. I feel no remorse for the fatalities I’ve caused, as this is justified by my rather generous gift.
