- Text Size +

This one, she thought.

It was a perfect alley. A back alley made between 2 decaying brick buildings, filthy and dark. The most important part though, was the people. This alley was home to several rotten beggars and street bums.

Veronica listened to the moans, mumbles, cackles of the horrid alley-folk. She stood there on the sidewalk, in her office clothes. It was dark out, the street lights had come on. They illuminated her, her brunette hair and dark blouse, open jacket and miniskirt. She wore black leather pumps. Veronica stood holding her briefcase and staring down the alley.

She opened her briefcase and took out a gun. It didn't look like an ordinary gun though. Veronica stalked into the dark alley. It was a dead end, illuminated by some overhanging streetlight.
A horrid man in rags peered out at her from behind a dumpster. She pointed her gun at him and motioned towards the dead end. "Move," she ordered. And he moved, because she had a gun.
More toothless men in rags that stank appeared from the darkness. She ordered them all towards the back, where there was already a small congregation of them. They all did whatever the woman with the gun wanted her to do. Some of them limped or appeared unable to move at all, they just slumped in the corner on the filthy pavement. They all moaned and swore at Veronica, asked what the fuck she was doing, why them. They had nothing to give.

The bums huddled against the back brick wall, afraid or angry, or insane. There was 9 of them. Veronica stood firmly in front of them, longs legs apart, gun held straight out.
She smiled.

Veronica pulled the trigger of the gun. No bullet came forth. A flash of bright light shot out of the oddly shaped weapon, blinding and engulfing the mass of homeless men, who began to scream and writhe in horror and pain.

They all began to shrink.

They got smaller and smaller, their screams becoming quieter and higher pitched, their squirming actions becoming less visible as their bodies shrank from sight.

Veronica stepped forwards, pumps clicking on the pavement. She looked down at all the pitiful forms of life. There was a small dark pile of tiny men. She smiled cruelly down at them.
"You little pieces of shit," she said, dropping her briefcase. The men began to shift. "You mendicants are all tiny pieces of garbage, and I'm going to dispose of you," she exclaimed, her ankle and heel rising and her shapely foot grinding, making scrunching noises on the pavement with her toe. Some of the beggars began to cry. Veronica smiled wider.
"I'm going to enjoy this," she said to herself. They all heard her though.

"You little fuckers, I've had a long day at the office and I need this. I," she said, sounding like a goddess, emphasizing every word, "am going to crush, every, single, one of you cockroaches, beneath these beautiful, heels," her shoes grinding restlessly on the pavement.

Some of the men now began to run forwards, trying to run around her and away. She laughed and stepped towards them, her leather pumps landing in front of them and blocking their way. They tried to run around, but Veronica just swiveled her foot on her heel and blocked them every way they went.
"You can't get away. I'm just going to crush you to death," she said and laughed as she knocked a tiny man onto his back with a swing of her foot, and the lowered her pump. Veronica lifted her head back and breathed softly as she felt the tiny man's body crush under her foot. "Oh yeah," she breathed, grinding her foot back and forth, feeling the blood flow beneath the leather of her sole.
She looked down at her foot, smiling. She lifted up one side, bending her ankle to show the nearby tiny men her gory sole. They recoiled in horror, gagging and vomiting.
Veronica laughed again. "Do you like that, insects? How about a closer look?"
She lifted her foot off the pavement, and held it above a small group of the men who had tried to flee. She dangled her pump above them, and then slowly lowered it.
Two men fell down in horror and disgust as the gory shoe descended on them. Veronica laughed as her shoe came down upon the two men and she felt their tiny wriggling forms beneath her foot. It felt good. She pressed harder and felt the tiny bodies burst under her weight, watched a dark stain swiftly spread from beneath her pump. That felt really good, she decided. She ground her foot on the liquid remains of the men.
Some of the panicked men were still trying to escape. One tried to run around her other side. Leaving the juiced remains of the last escapees beneath her one foot, Veronica lifted her other high heel into the air, and stomped down on the newest fugitive. He splattered hard, and she twisted his remains into the ground.

Legs apart, both planted in bloody stains, Veronica felt all her tension and tiredness from the long day drain out of her as she smiled at the remaining helpless men.

They had all piled against the far wall, heaped together in fear, like a pile of baby mice.
"Thats stupid," Veronica said. "Do you really think thats gonna help?"
She lifted her foot again, and raised it above the tiny pile. She let it hover there for a while, let them all see the bloody sole.
"But you're not thinking, are you? You're all too fucking petrified of being squished by my foot," she said. She extended her ankle, and plunged her heel into the pile of men. She could hear their tiny screams now. She planted her sole against the wall and then swung her ankle back and forth, scattering the tiny pile of men, sending them flying.
"That's cute," she said, examining the tiny man impaled on her heel. He was flailing in pain. She put her foot on the ground and arched her ankle, lifting her heel in air, stretching her lovely leg. The tiny punctured man still flailed. Veronica tapped her heel on the ground a few times, listening to his tiny screams of pain as he slid up and down the heel. She laughed.

Then she turned her attention to the four little men scattered around her foot. They writhed around, tiny limbs broken and swelling from their encounter with her heel.
Veronica looked down upon them, shaking her head, smile playing on her lips.
"You don't deserve to live. Like I said, you're cockroaches," she said, absentmindedly playing with her foot, swinging her heel back and forth, dripping the little man's blood this way and that. His screams added to the impact of her words. Her eyes returned to him once more, and her smile widened.

"And cockroaches,"
- Veronica brought her other foot up behind her bloody heel -

"Need to be,"
- She pressed her back foot down on the impaled man on her other heel, sliding him painfully down to the ground, leaving a long blood stain -

"Exterminated."
 - She lifted her heel out of the man with a little sucking sound, and brought the bloody heel down on his face. The screams ended abruptly as the man's head burst. She then lifted her foot up again and stomped it down on his beheaded corpse, spattering the other men with his blood. She ground her foot on his remains.

Veronica pulled out a cigarette. As she pulled the lighter out, she pushed the terrified little men into a rough line on the ground with her foot, evenly spaced. They all screamed each time her monstrous shoes came near them, fearing the worst.
It was still to come.

She stood at one end of the row, surveying her little execution line. She breathed out a stream of smoke. As she surveyed them, she bent down to look closer, slightly intrigued. The men, seeming to sense that they were on death row, all appeared to be on their knees with their hands together in the air.
Veronica grinned happily.
"Very good, insects!" she said to them. "You're praying for your pitiful lives, as you should be! Yes, pray, grovel at my mighty feet," she laughed, and then breathed a mouthful of smoke over them. Their tiny bodies heaved with coughing, but they still prayed to her. Veronica eventually stopped laughing.

Then she ordered, "Beg me not to step on you."

She gently placed her pump on the ground in front of the tiny man closest to her. On his hands and knees, he wasn't even taller than her toe. The man took the cue and crawled painfully towards her gigantic shoe.
As he got closer, she lifted up her toes slowly, so that the man couldn't quite reach her. He went further, hands outstretched towards her bloodied sole. Her heel was still planted on the ground as her sole lifted up inch by inch.
When his entire pitiful body was kneeling under her raised sole, arms raised in prayer, Veronica lowered her foot. The man screamed and cried before he disappeared beneath her with a crunch. Veronica loved the feeling the begging man left on the sole of her foot before he was squished out the sides of her pump. She loved giving them exactly what they deserved.

The rest of the men cried, but where too injured or frightened to flee. So they did what they were commanded to do, and groveled in the pavement.

Leaving the crushed man beneath her foot, she easily brought her other leg up to bear on the next man in line. She pointed her toe at him, her foot and shin an almost straight line, directed at the pitiful form beneath her. Veronica lowered her leg slowly onto him. She breathed out another slow puff of smoke as the tiny body crumpled and then spread as liquid beneath her toes. She ground hard into the pavement. The grinding noises of her pump tortured those men remaining, the after-sound of horrible death.

She lifted her other leg and again pointed her foot at the next victim. She touched down with her toe behind the crying man, and proceeded to slowly lower her sole completely over him. He was forced to watch as the smashed remains of his fellow men descended on him. Soon after Veronica heard the little wet crunch of his life, she dragged her foot noisily back across the ground, leaving a long, dark bloody line in the pavement.

Veronica now stood over the last remainder. She took a good, long drag of her cigarette. She bent down, and blew it all over the last little man. He was shaking in grief and fear. Veronica reached out slowly with her arm, holding the last stub of her cigarette, and pushed it in the little man's torso. His shrill screams of pain drifted up to her, as did a trickle of sweet smoke. She stood straight again, and raised her leg high one last time.

The last cockroach, his stomach a fused crater of black, melted organs, his chest bubbling and smoking, looked up and watched as the dark sole of Veronica's pump slowly descended upon his helpless body. He saw her immensely satisfied, smiling face impossibly high above him. As the sole, dripping with the gore of his comrades, finally blocked out all light, he took what little lungs he had left and screamed with all his might.





The last cockroach. It hissed as it died. Veronica lit another cigarette as she listened to the scrunching sound her foot made on the little man and her last cigarette on the pavement. She stood completely content that way for several minutes, slowly grinding her foot into the remains of the tiny man and exhaling the creamy white smoke.

What a stress reliever she thought.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You must login (register) to review.