I walked, and thought.
I passed more of the doors, each unique, and each now came with a spearman just as ugly as the last. They were all wearing the same brown leather jacket, skirt, wielding the same spear.
- But they are not all the same, just similarly ugly. It's just their equipment that are carbon copies.
I didn't try approaching any of the doors or the guards, and they seemed to ignore me till I stopped long enough. The few times I had stopped nearby, most had still ignored me, a few gestured in the same direction of the breeze, one headed in my direction with an ugly smile. I didn't stick around to find out what he had on his mind.
I had noticed a change in the vignettes.
- Actually, I think that the doors are getting a bit smaller, and the themes seem less ‘Fantastic’, more like a door you could find anywhere.
Stopping again I swept one foot of the ground.
-And it feels like the dust is a bit thicker here. Damn I must be really bored if I'm intrigued but the lack of domestic maintenance it the afterlife.
My snort of amusement was cut abruptly short. I could see the spearman from the next door, but this one wasn't just standing around. He was using his spear, jabbing at something hidden by the hedge adorning this doors vignette.
A human figure quickly appeared, moving away from the aggressive guard, while yelling and gestating. The guard made a quick lurch towards the retreating figure, which sent the figure fleeing in panic.
The guard relaxed and stood with his spear butt grounded next to him, watching the figure scramble away. Even from this distance I could see that the guard was laughing.
- So, it's not just me the Uglies like to threaten.
I continued walking, on the opposite side of the door from the guard, with a good distance for extra measure.
Soon more people appeared, normal looking, if not ethnically diverse. Some clumped together talking in more languages than I had ever heard before, others just stood or sat staring at nothing. A few raged at the sky or at other people.
I stopped close to what looked like the door to a tenement building. A group of angry men were yelling at one of the guards, all in the same language, making threatening gestures. The guard talked loudly and mockingly back at them in the same language, his spear pointing at them like a compass point.
I watched the men getting more heated, attracting more than just my attention. A few others had stopped and gathered to see what was going on. One or two angry shouts came from the spectators.
But even if I couldn't understand what was be yelled, I could see what was coming next.
- The guard doesn't even seem concerned with the idiots. Actually, it looks like he is actually using his dismissive attitude to egg them on.
The guard said something loudly and made a shooing motion with his hand towards the angry group. Whatever was said was too much for one of the men, he stepped angrily out from the pack, spit flying from his beard, reaching towards the spear.
The guard moved with explosive speed, the spear blurred in his hands, thrusting out and through the man not once, but three times. The pierced man's scream was so loud that the previous shouting paled in comparison.
The crowd stopped, locked in shock at the abrupt and lethal response.
The guard said something again the men's language, emphasizing his point by twisting the spearhead in the bearded man's shoulder. The scream of pain caused my ears to ring even at the distance I was away.
- How the hell can someone scream that loud?
Pulling the spear from the bearded man, the guard resumed his almost lazy stanch. Making the shooing motion again he let the spear lean slowly towards the others.
One took a step back, jostling the man behind him, and with an almost domino like effect, that single step sent to others fleeing. Only a few looked over their shoulders at their wounded companion.
The guard looked towards the crowd that had gathered to spectate, and made a pointing motion indicating that they should also get moving, as always in the direction of the breeze. They dispersed almost as quickly as the angry mob did.
I stayed, watching the now whimpering bearded man, and the guard.
- I need to see this. I'm a good way away, and hopefully with my gray PJ’s, I'll be just another part of the grey background. Just a blank piece of sky.
The guard watched the others leave, then turned to crying man. The guard talked a couple of times, then poked him with the butt of his spear. The man just shuddered in response to the guards continued nudges. Finally, the guard gave up talking and kicked him, which got the bearded man to start crawling away.
The guard watched, leaning on his spear as the man crawled and dragged himself slowly away, till he stopped about 6 meters away. The guard waited a few minutes, then yelled again. When the bearded man didn't move the guard walked over, placed a sandaled foot on his back and drove the spear through his head.
- What?!
The guard then moved back to the roped of door, leaned against a rod scanning the area with a bored expression
- He didn't even wipe the blood off. Wait! There was no blood. Not when he first stabbed him, or now.
I looked down at my hand.
- I'm really not alive, I really am dead.
In a daze I lurched forward towards the prone bearded figure, eyes locked on the unmoving shape.
- How can you kill something that is already dead?
Before I knew it, I was standing over the bearded man's unmoving form. His cloths and skin had turned grey, his bushy beard was slowly turning to dust, falling in a stream towards the ground.
I reached out and placed the tips of my fingers in the stream, then pulled back.
- It's the same, it's the dust that is everywhere. Solent-grey?
The absurd thought brought me back, and I quickly looked up at the forgotten guard. Even though he had not moved from leaning on the post, he was still far too close for my comfort.
The Guard was grinning, an ugly grin that showed just how inhuman he was. With a lazy gesture he made a shooing motion with his hand.
I ran, followed by the guard's laughter.
