text: “Help!” All I hear anymore. “Help” this, “help” that. Shut the fuck up. Nowadays, when I hear “Help,” I respond with “Bang.” That way, they can never say that filthy word again. I don’t know who I am anymore, to be perfectly honest. At this point, I’m just trying to get by. It’s hard sometimes - impossible, even - but I always pull through. I have to, for her. I walk about a half-mile back to “The Hole.” Well, to anyone else, I guess it’s just “A Hole” to everyone else, but that’s when I shoot them and tell them that that’s what I am. “I’m home,” I mumble, with a half-hearted smile. It’s hard, out here - but she keeps me going. She motivates me. However, I only have two for her today. *“What do you have for me, sweetheart?”* says that beautiful, silky-smooth voice. Buttery, almost; except I’m not fond of butter. Goddammit. I’ve only been her servant for a few weeks, but I already see that she isn’t happy with my progress for the day. *“This isn’t enough,”* she softly murmurs, *”It’s just not enough.”* I’m sorry. This is my fault. “My condolences, ma’am. I will make it up to you tomorrow, I swear upon my life.” I do swear. I mean it, honestly; she means everything to me, and I won’t disappoint her. I hope. Six hours pass, I open my eyes to see my brown, slightly molding ceiling. I walk to the bathroom and splash my face, not even noticing how dark and chunky the water is. On my way out of my bedroom, I catch a quick bite to eat - a slice of sweet, whole wheat bread, with only a little bit of dirt on it. “I’m out for today, ma’am,” I yell on my way out the door. No response, as usual; she knows where I am and where I need to go at all times. She’s so smart; I wish I could be as smart as her. The sun peeks out halfway over the eastern hillside as I feel a slight warm breeze on the back of my neck. It’s silent, as usual; No birds, no cicadas, no leaves rustling in the summer breeze, nothing. Just the way I like it. I stop, just as a hand on a clock with the batteries removed. Well, in my life, more like the hand on the clock bashed in with a sledgehammer before being eaten and shit out of a sumo wrestler. I see one, about 300 yards away from me, slightly north-west of “The Hole”. She’s probably in her 60s, if I was to guess, due to her greying hair pulled back into a neat bun and her fashion sense of disgusting flowers and neon colors. I hate flowers. I hold my arms out in front of me, waiting for the perfect shot - I can’t hold my breath yet, I have to wait until she’s perfectly in range - and I wait. She’s still running towards me, yelling the usual - “Help!” - I guess she has bad eyesight. I cock the revolver, waiting for this dumb bitch to notice that these are her last moments. I don’t know how she’s lived this long, honestly - most don’t make it past 30, if they make it at all. Whatever. It’s not my problem anymore. Five more for the day. Five! I get back to the hole with my bounty dragging behind me and leave it proudly on display for her to see once I call her. I’ve never achieved five before; my previous record was three and a half (it should’ve been four but she doesn’t like the smaller ones). “I’m home!” I say excitedly, without realizing that these will be the last words I have the honor to speak to her. *“What do you have for me, sweetheart?”* That silky smooth voice. I cut myself on one of her tendrils in my excitement to give her the score for the day. I watch, with much fascination, as she devours all five bodies for the day. *“I’m so, so proud of you, sweetie,”* she tells me in her voice that reminds me of warm blankets on a cold winter day, *“So proud. You can join me.”* What? Is she serious? This can’t be real. I nod with more vigor than a five-year-old boy after being asked if he wants ice cream after a fun day at the local pool. As I feel her warm, spiky tentacles absorb my pathetic human body, I finally feel at peace. I’ve ascended.