The Story of Eris
By Anonymous, San Diego, CA
Chapter 2- ErisChapter 2-Eris
Over the years, several different people have given me with different names, but only one has ever fit my tastes in any way. The name came from none other than Ms. Eveleen, after seeing that I did bring disorder and chaos wherever I went, much like the goddess of strife herself.
I do not consider myself to be a goddess, but that doesn’t mean I lower myself to please others. That has never been in my nature, and despite the many times since my “creation” where the
Often, people are somewhat startled by the coolness I have towards the “whole ordeal.” It’s simply a state of mind, and there really is no room for confusion or even mild surprise. After a while, the exhilaration and adrenaline affect you almost like a drug. Soon enough, it’s all you can think about, and after that, it’s an addiction and you have to kill.
Several people in this world, such as those who do not see it fit to “murder,” are horrified that there are people like me in this world; those who feel no aversion in taking someone’s life, and furthermore, those that enjoy the rush provided by such action. However, that’s just really how things go in life. One cannot make everyone happy.
Despite every single grotesque abomination that crosses my path every so often, such as that horrid May Ernols or whatever she calls herself, I still hold my original views and strive to enforce them. My view on May is that she is very narrow-minded, and doesn’t open herself to the possibilities the world possess. I am fairly certain there are many in the world like her; those people who have the capacity to understand but decide to let it go. This infuriates me, as I wish that I could be almost genius like the rest of them, and they simply throw away their talents for pleasing the rest of the world. The light bulb did nothing but expand the puny path that humans live on, and they look for ways to increase this path further. Mankind is greedy and seeks to be self-sufficient, which will never happen.
People care so much about trivial things when all that matters is how they mark history. Honestly, when I raise my knife and gauge a victim’s actions in their final moments, I don’t register beautiful hair or pale, flawless skin. I observe the way they squeal, beg, and cry for mercy. The only thing I really carefully watch is how a face can contort in pain in so many different ways… I laugh at human stupidity. But I must accept that I am human, and thus subject to fall under such stupidity, and countless other flaws,
For example, I find myself worried… no, apprehensive. I fear that Erin is coming to remember too much. It will not be beneficial to her if she knows everything. Of course, as of now, I suspect that she simply does not wish to acknowledge the events that came to pass and has therefore blocked them away.
Very suddenly, Detective Scotts jerks me from my thinking trance, rudely turning my body a different direction. When the fool tried to have Erin sedated, I re-awoke with a vengeance. I could have killed everyone at that moment. Yet I calmly allowed them to take me away. But how I ache to end this person’s insignificant life. Not yet, I remind myself. There is still work to be done. But I wish for once, I could indulge and kill the man. After all, murder is somehow my talent… I slip away to the time of my supposed birth, smirking.
It’s very dark outside, and I have been asleep for a very long time. Curious as to what caused me to awaken from my sleep, I open my eyes very carefully and absorb the scene unfolding around me. I’m lying on the ground, on my stomach. A man with short blond hair holds a long piece of… pipe, I believe. I feel much pain around the region of my lower back, and I have many bruises. Appalled, I stare at my attacker with narrowed slits for eyes. As he lunges again, I neatly roll out his way, and his weapon bends on the ground with a sharp Clang! He carefully analyzes my actions, and then points to… a person with a sack over the head. Fair brown hair is falling out of the burlap material as the person writhes around.
Handing me a serrated knife, he gestures again to the figure and steps back, saying “Make sure you kill her this time” as he does so.
I move forward cautiously. Despite the fact that the victim is incapacitated, I don’t want to take any chances. As I consider the best way to get the person to suffer the most amount of pain, the pipe comes whistling through the air once more. I catch the blunt metal in a stalemate with my new knife, and with an almighty shove, push the man backwards.
Angry at the outside interference, I fling the blade at the attacker, smiling with satisfaction as it pierces his neck and lodges itself in his flesh. Pleased, I raise my foot high, and clam it down, hard, onto the figure’s skull. Blood splatters onto the floor, and oozes slowly out of the corpse’s head. The thick red liquid stains the sack. My bare feet have scratches on them from the sharp bones that had previously knitted the person’s skull together, as they have poked through the thin burlap. A lot of blood stains the bottom of my foot. I wipe some of the mess off my skin, and complain, “You got my foot dirty.” I walk out of the room, leaving behind little red footprints.
Jarring me from my memories, Mrs. Carol yanks me away from Detective Scotts, and guides me into a hallway of pristine white walls. She stops outside one of the many doors and points to one. “This is your room, Eris. You’ll be staying here for some time, so I suggest you get comfortable. If you would like, you can have some stew and bread. Do you want me to fetch some for you?”
I shake my head quickly, and hold my hands out in silent gesture, signaling that I want her to take off the handcuffs. She reaches into her back pocket and produces a small, silver key. I feel the shackles loosening, and I pull out of them quickly.
There’s a small bed, a sink, and a toilet. Scoffing, I lay my head down gently on the pillow of the undersized cot. Luckily, I am petite enough to fit comfortably on it, and I close my eyes thoughtfully. I allow my breathing patterns to become much calmer, tricking my observers into believing I am asleep. As the door shuts, I roll over onto my side. I have never liked beds too much, but I then again, I have never really liked anything in particular.
Erin, on the other hand, has liked too many things and people. It’s always very difficult to rid her of an attachment, because she is so convinced that nothing bad could come of the relationship. She has always been obdurate as a person, and never listens to me the first time I tell her something. Ever since we met 3 years ago, she has never failed to disagree with my views. However, I will have to squish this out of her eventually.
My encounter with May has confirmed my suspicions on what the world has come to. She is, as I observed before, a very ambitious creature despite her lack of vision. It annoys me that such a substandard person can have such dreams for the future and, due to this society, have them recognized very easily. May is everything I hate in a person. She is ambitious, narrow minded, caring, deluded, and rather full of herself. Truthfully speaking, she sort of reminds me of Ms. Eveleen, except May is not as flamboyant as her. It is rather obvious that May tries very hard to get people to notice, her though. Her very existence irks me, and her relationship to Erin may be extremely troublesome in the future.
I’ve always had some sort of trouble with the fact that Erin has this need to make friends with people, and establish relation outside the occasional assistant matter. May is a big threat, and she must be removed from the equation as soon as possible. However, I’m willing to let this sit for a while, see what happens, and go from there. After all, there is a lot to be planned, and I am cautious as to how much Erin remembers and what will become of that knowledge. There is a lot about her that I am unsure of, and she is a very unpredictable person.