As I removed the laundry from the wash it was clear to me my detergent was not strong enough to get rid of the blood stains. Perhaps I should have looked up a more effective cleaning method, but I figured it would be wiser to just get my clothes cleaned. In hindsight perhaps it was a bad idea to throw my bloodied clothes in with my regular laundry. It was getting late though, and as I calmed down I decided this was a tomorrow problem.
Ten hours earlier I had been a lot less calm. My manager Ryan, or former manager I guess, had just fired me after months of making up false claims. First he claimed he found me sleeping on the job. Then he claimed I had made racist remarks to pedestrians walking by the work site. I think he was trying to get me to quit by harassing me enough, but I guess today he had decided he was done playing around.
I walked into his office to find him with a black eye. A smarter man would have walked right back out, but I will never claim I am a smart man. I closed the door and sat down trying not to pay too much attention to the swollen purple mass on his face.
Ryan told me he had been in a little accident. That a drill he insisted I had last used was left on top of a locker in the break room. That the drill, precariously placed, had fallen off of the locker and landed on his eye. It was an obvious lie, but it was enough to set me off.
I began shouting at the top of my lungs about how he was a liar and a scumbag. How no one would even believe such a ridiculous story. He responded by repeatedly telling me to calm down which of course just made me angrier.
I didn’t see what was happening until he suddenly screamed in pain. I was extremely confused; he was just standing there.
“Get out of my office!” He yelled at me. “I’m calling security. You are fired!”
I’m not a smart man, but I can put two and two together. It was never about a drill. He just wanted to make it seem plausible that I had punched him, giving him that black eye. I was in shock. I walked out of the office as he called up the security team. My memories get a bit fuzzy at that point, but I remember them showing up to escort me off the property. They didn’t touch me; I probably looked despondent enough not to be a threat. They walked me to my car, I got in and next thing I knew I was back at my apartment. Probably should have been glad I didn’t drive off the road trying to get home.
I spent hours sitting on my couch just staring at the ceiling. The bastard had got me. As far as I could think of there wasn’t any evidence I could show that I wasn’t the one that gave him the black eye. My coworkers would probably go to bat for me, but they also knew that I already had a very good reason to give him a black eye before walking in there.
As I counted the peaks in the spackle above me the shock started to wear off and anger finally creeped in. I’m not a violent man; Ryan likely knew this, hence his elaborate plan to frame me. At that moment though there were a lot of violent thoughts racing through my head. Several ideas of what I could do that would likely be considered crimes against humanity.
Fantasy started to give way to possibility as I imagined adding to his self inflicted injury. Nothing too serious; a couple of broken bones that would likely heal in a few months. Quick and painful, but not deadly. I didn’t need that on my conscience.
I looked at the clock. They guys would just be packing up now and Ryan wouldn’t be far behind. I considered my odds at actually taking on Ryan face to face; he was a large man, far more powerful than me. This wasn’t about honour though, I just wanted to cause him pain.
I threw a bat in the passenger seat of my car and drove towards the worksite.
The streets were bathed in orange twilight when I finally spotted Ryan driving out. I had parked a block away to stay out of sight. Hopefully none of my coworkers noticed me waiting.
I followed his car for probably 20 minutes before he parked at a gas station and stepped inside. It was getting dark. It was now or never. I didn’t know if he had a family, but I didn’t want to risk some poor kid watching as their father was brutalised in their driveway. I’m not a monster.
I found a secluded corner to park, grabbed my bat and waited.
It didn’t take long before he came back out and lit a fresh cigarette. The fact that he decided to smoke right by the entrance to the convenience store gave me a small sense of justification for what I was about to do.
As he flicked the butt of the cigarette to the ground he turned towards his car.
I’m thankfully pretty light on my feet; as I sprinted towards his back he didn’t seem to notice at all. I grabbed the bat, wound up and aimed for his temple.
CRACK!
My aim was off by half a foot. The side of the bat, instead of hitting the broadside of his head, crashed into his neck. There aren’t a whole lot of bones to break in a man’s neck, and the fact that he instantly crumpled suggested to me he was going to be down for longer than I had planned.
Should I be panicking? Should I run? Should I call an ambulance?
Questions flew through my head, but one stood out powerfully against the rest.
Why does this feel so good?
That initial crack sent a chill down my spine. Not the kind you feel when you sense danger, but the kind you get when you experience something of such profound beauty that your entire body reacts to tell you that you’ve found something special.
The next swing came down hard on his head. I hit the temple I had originally been aiming for and another beautiful crack filled their air. Every swing gave me a growing sense of blissful satisfaction.
It was when I heard the shouting from the convenience store that I realised it was time to go. I quickly knelt down and grabbed Ryan’s wallet from his back pocket before running off in the opposite direction from my car. I figured my best bet was to circle back for it so there was as little evidence linking this to me as possible.
After taking the scenic route back to my car I was glad that the parking lot was still empty, save for Ryan’s body. I guess the employees, having seen what had happened, were too afraid to go check on him. The police were taking forever to show up, but that’s nothing new around here.
I sped out of the parking lot and back home. Adrenaline pumping through my veins gave a rush, but at the same time a sense of peace and accomplishment permeated my mind. I logically knew I had done a terrible thing, but it felt so right.
Landry set aside, I layed down in bed and went over the days events. I began to notice; there was no satisfaction from any sense of justice or revenge. It was purely a sadistic pleasure.
I had opened Pandora's box and the darkness that escaped filled me in a way I didn’t know I needed. I thought all I wanted was revenge. Now I realise all I want is more.
Laundry could be a tomorrow problem.