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(Page 2 of 7) Lost in Shadows by Cameron Olson She imagined the things she wanted to do to him. She thought about using a soldering iron to carve words on his body. She thought about using acid to melt layers of skin off his neck, chest and underarms. Mainly she thought about castrating him. With each new torture the darkness became more oppressive. It felt like a living thing pressing down on her body as she walked. She could hear it breathing. She whimpered again and gave up on thoughts of murder. She didn't have any concentration to spare for such things. It was taking her all just to move her feet.
Unfortunately, she also didn't have any concentration to spare for reigning in her mind. It wandered along the path of murder she had set it on, looking for anything in a similar vein.
A new image flared into her mind and like the previous memory this one also sucked her in. She saw blood spattered on the inside of a car window made opaque with the crackled circles of bullet holes. In the memory she ran to the car and tore the door open. Once again she saw her father slumped against the dash, his body and face torn apart with exit wounds. Once again she felt the bottomless anguish and rage. Once again she felt the infinite guilt. It had been her involvement in the Shadowriders. That was why they had tracked her to her home, why they had killed her father. Again she heard the electric whine of a motorcycle and watched the murderer escape after he saw the results of his work.
The memory cut off and she was on the street again, but this time she had remained on her feet. She kept walking as the memories of all the times she had screamed obscenities at her father played in her head. She remembered how her guilt had turned into rage at the gang behind her father's murder, the Bloodwheels. Once again she wanted to kill them all.
Another memory came free and suddenly bullets whistled through the air around her. One cut off a piece of her hair. She felt the vibration of a rapid fire mag-gun in her hands. High velocity darts tore apart the people in front of her. She wasn't the only one shooting at them, she had backup. The backup didn't matter. Naomi was doing most of the killing because she didn't care if she got shot. A door flew open as her booted foot connected with the lock. The leader of the Bloodwheels was getting dressed. There were two women huddling in his bed. When he went for a gun, Naomi took his hand off. He fell down and she dragged him up by his hair and threw him against a wall. "BEG!" She screamed as she put the gun to his midsection. He begged. The rounds remaining in her gun weren't sufficient for her response. She slid in a new clip and continued firing until she felt his blood dripping off her nose. The smell of gore and death filled her nostrils.
As the memory whirled around Naomi she found herself justifying it once more. The Bloodwheels had deserved it. Revenge was her right. She couldn't have let them get away with it. The darkness grew heavier with each excuse. She felt something slithering under the surface of the sidewalk.
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