The Mouse That Roared

For just a nanosec, she felt her forefinger twitch in protest. As if it had ethics of it’s own.

Flex, blink, click. It was done. Done.

A bead of sweat rolled down her sunken right cheek and in it’s wake, a flash of brilliant blackness so intense she had to shudder-jerk to unlock her mind from the pleasure-pain.

Digital death was the new faith frontier for those pitiful souls that sought it, and she, like the succubus of myth, was now a dealer by choice; an angel to some. But there was still a vast tangled string of deceits and secrets to be unwound before she would allow her time to end, before she might glimpse a sliver of the truth that took her beloved away.

And of course so many more deaths. Another shudder raced down her body at the thought. It would soon be time to uncage the mouse again.

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