DIRTY THOUGHT

Where my overwhelming gaze prevailed was the old, skinny body of Sonia, looking at me with fearful eyes, holding my hand out and removing the mask she wore from her mouth. His eyes widened and he spoke in his trembling voice.

"Please don't take him off, I'll get him sick." I grinned and waved the mask in my hand.

"Is that it?" He shook his head, swallowing.

"If you do what we want, why not."

"What do you want." I laughed sarcastically when I heard her stutter. What did we want to be free, the revenge of the innocent souls they killed and their lives?

I glanced at Dioonsas without answering his question. Sonia did not see him because he probably knew him. I learned that Diyonysos was one of the president's close bodyguards when he was a sprima.

When he gave his approval, he put his elbow to the back of the neck, causing the old body to fall at our feet.

I leaned over and put on the very important (!) Mask covering his mouth and nose. He was filtering the air, cleansing germs and allowing clean air to reach his lungs.

I looked at the sick body of the young girl in bed. I asked Diyonysos without looking.

"What will it be?" He looked where I was looking. After a few seconds of silence, the sound of baritone hit my ears.

"As long as she's here, her health and mine are in danger." After a deep breath I approached the girl.

If he was a trivial person, they would not have killed him and removed his organs or brought him here and had an experienced doctor to take care of him.

I grabbed the needle of the serum that was still flowing into her body, detached her from her weak arm and held it up and squeezed it somewhere we were going to need it. I looked at the plastic that was glued to his neck and the red thin tube that came out from under it to the next machine.

When I looked carefully, I realized that the pipe inside was not red, but red.

This ... this was blood!

They were changing their blood and I was going to grab the cable without caring. Diyonysos' worried voice stopped me.

"Anka, don't!" While I was about to jump right where I was, with an unexpected reaction, I pulled my hand as if it were on fire and quickly turned to him. He gave a sigh of relief and spoke as he looked at him, not understanding why he was reacting like that.

"The machine you see is connected to the center, that is, it is seen on the giant screen there from the patient's heartbeat to the breathing time. And if you pull that cable before the patient is informed that the patient has died and the codes are deleted from the system, this place will be filled with sprima you do not want."

The system they established, their way of life, and the structure of the primus were of the kind to leave their mouths open. He was very clever and obviously a lot of thought out. But I didn't care. I was going to knock down this huge building they call Primus.

Diyonysos, rummaging through her pockets collapsed next to Sonia, I picked up the serum with which I tucked her cable up, and pulled it out of her hanger, dropped over to Dionysos and leaned my back against the door.

I reached out and took the knife he had put in his front pocket of his apron. I cut the top corner of the serum and put my mouth on the incision and lift it up. I could feel you looking at me confused. What is it that I have cleaned blood with it.

I lowered the serum I sewed on my head and handed it to him while wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Without objection, he rolled the rest of the salty liquid I drank half of it into his stomach. Even though I wanted to laugh at the shape of his face when I threw aside the plastic he had lowered by grimacing, I gave only a small smile.

We stood up with the moving body in front of us. We did not tie him up, he was not our prisoner, he was just going to help us. If not with beauty, what day did our forced fists stop?

While he wrinkled his face with pain by putting his hand to the back of his neck, his eyes also opened, his gaze followed my feet and straightened when he met my harsh facial expression.

Diyonysos was not with me, first I would make the agreement, then he would see that Diyonysos was with me.

He went back and stood.

"What do you want from me ?" I took a deep breath. I turned the knife in my hand skillfully and threw it into the air. I mumbled, pretending to grab the handle and examine its sharpness.

"Old man ..." I walked towards the body tied to the bed. I moved the knife slowly over her face, then it slipped around her neck and the tip of the metal lingered on the jugular vein. Then she went over her smooth shoulders and landed on her chest. He advanced to the weak organ pumping blood and stood right above it.

The old man was holding his breath, watching the direction of the blade.

"Tell me about the ineffective." My refusing voice made him swallow.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I laughed a hissing. And I slid the knife over the girl's shoulder and dug a deep hole in her pale skin, white like a soul, and the hole itself then filled her collarbones and plunged into the simplicity of the white sheet.

"Don't!" I drove on without removing the object causing the pit.

"They are ineffective!" His chest was rising and falling rapidly, holding out his hand as if asking me to stand towards me. He gestured me to stop.

"Let me tell you now!" I pulled the knife calmly as if nothing had happened, and put on my annoying smiling expression and spoke in a very opposite tone of my mood.

"Okay."

"But let me wrap your wound first." Imperative

I raised one eyebrow and looked at him with the sentence containing.

"Please." I stepped aside and gestured for her to pass, quickly pulling the sheet on the girl and pressing it against the knife (!) Wound. He was whispering something while tearing and wrapping the part of the large sheet that was creeping on the floor in a strip.

"Quod est, non possunt esse liberi. (Do what is necessary, you are free to choose freedom)"

While I was constantly whispering the same words, I noticed that the words were similar to Latin. But it was like a mix of several languages. It was not like Turkish, English or any other language you know. He had a very strange accent.

I focused on what he was doing rather than thinking about their language. I saw her left hand go to the blood transfer tube on the girl's neck. I waited while my eyebrows were frowning.

What was this old man trying to do?

When I tried to pull the pipe, I quickly lifted the knife and stuck it into his hand on the bed. He yelled bitterly. While my strong fingers surround the weak hair strands on the back of his head. I turned to me, his face contracted in pain, washing with tears.

I brought my lips closer to his ear.

"You think I don't know what you're trying to do!"

I quickly raised the knife and, in no pity, aimed and lowered the girl's white chest directly above her heart.

When the tearing sound of the skin traveled through my ear folds and reached my brain by echoing, I smiled psychopathically. He looked in fear at the blood splashed on my face.

I gently lifted the knife. Blood was running down my hand.

I leaned the face of the blade against the man's chest, splattered with patches of blood, and pulled it down, I applied the same to the other side.

The blade was cleaned but my mind was getting dirty

I pushed the blood-conquered body down from the bed, hit the monitor and fell to the ground with a full voice. I sat on the bed and spread comfortably.

"We were saying ineffective last?"