Disclaimer: This entry was written before recent events involving the travel ban. I hesitated to post it since it takes place in an airport, but at the same time I wanted to stay true to the original vision of the story. Please note that this is not intended to be insensitive toward current events, and this story is separate from any events in the real world.
Those questions were the axe-wielding lunatics that chopped all my remaining sane thoughts to pieces. The white ship that was my skull became flooded with their blood, rocking back and forth as my past self took me outside for a violent dance, swinging me around wildly. I was cutting through regenerative screams thundering from a dark cloud of anger quickly approaching the airport, ready to rain down on innocent people.
“Cut first,” she said, strangling me. “Axe questions later!”
Hanging upside down, my throbbing head was being dragged along the pavement, all the way into Terminal A. It felt like my scalp was being scraped off, right down to the sinking white ship enclosing my drowning mind. “Lots of cords in here,” my past self said, with the excitement of a child walking into a toy store. “Lots of cords! Let’s go axe someone to borrow one!”
Anger’s shaky hands were squeezing the remaining ounces of consciousness left in my body—a wooden body soon to be dripping ounces of blood. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I didn’t. But I was nothing more than a weapon—a victim of a controlling relationship.
All those poor people in the terminal were too busy staring at their phones to even notice us at first. They were all in a collective state of trance. They were all… zombies, infected by technology.
“Let’s see,” my past self said, approaching the crowds of people. “Who should we axe first?!”
My head felt like an elevator launching to the topmost floor of a building and crashing back down to ground level, over and over, screeching with human cries. The ground level was quickly flooding, washing my face with every descent. I didn’t want to open my eyes, but the brutal blows I was being forced to inflict caused my eyeballs to pop out of their sockets.
With bulging eyes and a drooling mouth, I saw and tasted nothing but brains.