Chapter 42
by 
Drakavius
What's next?
Irene Contemplates Life
Irene questioned what she had been doing with her life.
Here she was, laying disheveled, horny, and **** to any person wrecklessly driving laying loyally like some pet obediently waiting for their master.
Irene gasped at the spasm just that word gave her. James wasn't her master, he hadn't time to finish that. Irene could sense the Idol's presence in the building. Its malevolent energy moving with ambivalence to the insignificant people who might be lucky enough to be remade in its blessing, or consumed to its pleasure. They were already its possessions, they just had to shine for it.
Irene felt like she could go for either. Hearing an engine rattle into life in the distance Irene paused to contemplate if that’s what she had been all her life. Some idle vessel waiting for something beyond its perception to spark purpose and life into, driving it into servitude. No, not servitude. Allowing it purpose like some stone forged into a tool.
The idea made her wet, she silently pledged her vessel to whatever it was warming up her engine after she had been idle long enough to think where she was parked was her place in life.
Lying still she didn't try to move or flinch as she saw the headlights pan around a corner, heard the brakes squeal, felt the bumper roll her with what seemed like a simple nudge to it.
Irene couldn't move. She knew this. Her body lay ****, the head injury was bad.
But the Idol told her not to worry, her disembodied consciousness preserved, as her spirit watched some people run up to her, check to see if she was alive, and then haphazardly squeeze her into the car.
She smiled as the beetle sped off, two other cars following shortly behind it. The garage faded from view, as Irene turned around to marvel at the strange art gallery she seemed to be in.
