Where Angels Fear
Aug 22, 2017 · 2 min read

Yeah … I’m not keen on hair-dryers — I have brittle hair and they don’t help.

Thanks for the advice though — I’ll give it some thought nevertheless :)

It’s all over now, thank goodness, and it is indeed fortunate that I didn’t have to shorten any of it, [1] but …

My mood has not been vastly improved by the whole affair [2] … and anyone mistaking my air of seemingly sanguine calm for anything other than the inevitable result of every single synapse firing for the sole purpose of devising a form of vengeance that is practicably implemented, rather than a mere flight of fancy, is in for a rude awakening in three days’ time.

As for the form my retribution shall take, well …

I rather like the idea of them only being able to feel the wind of the passing juggernauts buffeting them around all over the road … so that they spend an agonising eternity waiting.

Like Chinese water torture, it’d be the waiting that would be the cruelest aspect of it all … and the last thing I’d want would be for them to take any solace in being able to make their peace with their oncoming death because they could see it.

No … I want them to suffer — and the unknown is always more terrifying … especially if you can’t even scream in fear.

I also like the aspect of their being cognitively aware of their lack of limbs, but still desperately hoping against Hope itself that the phantom limb pain they experience means there is some hope to be had, knowing as they do so that there isn’t any — the cognitive dissonance induced would be the icing on the cake as far as I’m concerned.

People are just lucky witchcraft isn’t real and I don’t have the power to curse them — I’ve thought of a few choice ones over the years … and they just keep getting nastier as the years go by.

[1] Had I had to do so, my revenge would’ve made Keyser Söze look like a fucking Sunday School teacher!

As it is, I lost a certain amount of it due to the combing and I’m considering doing a Josef Fritzl on them … even if I have to give them a sex change operation first!

[2] Especially not by having to spend three hours in the fucking bath!

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    Where Angels Fear

    Written by

    There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live and too rare to die.