He didn't know what happened at all, one moment he was about to finish paying for his latest collections, the other moment the store he is in gets robbed!
"You! Get down on the ground right now!" One of the robbers next to him shouted towards Desmond with his gun, who was still a bit dazed at what was happening.
"Oh… Sorry." He calmly replied snapping out of his daze while lowering himself to the floor with his package.
This made the robber a bit taken aback at his calmness, but he didn't care as long as there was compliance.
Desmond laid there and had his package close to his chest, he just wanted these guys to be done with whatever they were after and let him return home so he gets to return his princesses back home safely.
'Ah, my little darlings back home must be feeling lonely' He thought mentally.
In a nutshell, Desmond was a pretty normal guy most of the time, he had a great job that paid well as well as a nice house where he lives all by himself.
He grew up with 6 younger sisters. And as much as he loves them all very much he still blames them for his current condition, yet at times he is happy about it too.
It happened one night when his folks had to leave for a month and he and his little sisters were left with a guardian, he was 14 by then and the oldest of his little sisters was 10 while the youngest were twins of age 4.
The first week was chaos but their guardian was around so it was tolerable. Now for some reason all of the girls at that time were obsessed with princesses. From their clothes, rooms, toiletries, food, and toys, each girl had their own favorite princess.
So he had to watch princesses 24/7, the only place he was safe from that was in his room, that was until one day their guardian had to go for an emergency for a day which he thought was long enough for him to handle the girls and try not to go insane.
It was a bad idea.
After fixing them lunch, princess-themed obviously, he took a shower. And returned to find the corridors and everything painted with stickers, glitter, and posters of princesses everywhere. It actually frightened him, as he had been having nightmares about these princesses taking over everything, and now it had happened.
So he bolted for his safe haven, or so he thought.
He came and discovered to his horror that it too got invaded, everything got sparkly, colorful, and bright! From stickers, tattoos, drawings, and glitter, there were tiaras everywhere he looked! And then he snapped! After all, there is just so much a 14-year-old could bare.
If you can't beat them, join them.
And so he did, then one night a desire grew within him, to have all the princesses for himself, but that was just the beginning as he wanted as many as he could in his lifetime! Now all he does is collect action figures and figurines of princesses, it doesn't matter the fiction, as long as it is a princess.
But to him, his number one were the Disney Princesses that brought him to this stage!
"Hey! What do you have in there man? You are holding it pretty tightly, huh?" A voice beside him asked, this dragged him back to reality as he had ignored the chaos that was happening around him while reminiscing.
"Hmm?! Are you guys not done yet? I just want to go home please." Answered Desmond instinctively as he was not entirely out of it yet.
This of course made everyone freeze and gaze at him strangely from the hostages of the situation to the criminals.
There were 4 robbers, two were at the register, one at the door and the other was guarding the hostages, who had just asked Desmond.
Each one armed with a gun, now all of this would have gone according to the plan the criminal had laid out. But one knows that there would always be a slip-up, so maybe because of anxiety or perhaps it was his first gig.
One of the robbers that was busy helping his other comrade with packing money into the bag didn't shrug off Desmond's reply like the rest did. With adrenaline rushing through him, he got agitated, or perhaps he had always a short fuse, who knows.
"Hey! Watch your mouth punk! Open that bag and let me see if there is anything valuable in there!" The criminal moved closer and spoke harshly, one could tell that his voice was pretty young, perhaps 17 or higher.
This kid either wanted to look cool in front of the others or perhaps it was the adrenaline running through his veins Desmond was not sure as he wondered at this behavior.
But he was compliant and pushed his paper bag with his precious babies towards the young criminal as he got close. Desmond knew that he would just notice his figurines, mock him and give them back. It was always the same and he just didn't care at all.
After all, he had chosen this path, he won't back down because of a few jeers and laughs here and there, for as long as he is happy that is all that counts.
"Haha! Look at this, a bunch of useless princess dolls!" And it came to the mocking laughter from the young robber in front of him as he looked at what was inside for he had pulled out a couple of Disney princess figurines.
They were some of his first ones to collect, and they needed to be refurbished after being with him for so long, this store was the only one that did that in this city.
"Wow! Man, tell me these are not your dolls bro?" The young criminal asked in mocking laughter, Desmond looked up from his position and saw him hold them in his hands with eyes that clearly showed disdain behind that mask. Everyone looked at him, waiting for a reply.
"They are mine, a hobby of mine actually. I have been collecting them since I was 15, those ones in your hands are my first ones. I still remember the first time how I got them, I had to spend an entire year saving up cash from chores, yard work, babysitting, and walking dogs. In fact, I remember each one even the ones at home, am proud to say that each one of them was bought with cash I work hard for with my own hands, blood, and sweat as well as time spent, so I don't care if you mock me as it makes me happy and harms no one at all. Now could you please finish your business and let us go?" Desmond replied calmly, perhaps he was pissed at the young criminal calling the dolls or something else but he spoke more than usual, his words clearly laced with venom without any fear.
This stumped the criminals as well as his fellow hostages on the floor.
For it was the first time to encounter a person with such conviction and pride to happy to share such a story and truth, many people go about the rest of their days without a care or purpose. And he had been doing this since he was a teen, he currently looked like he was around his early thirties, with a handsome look, fit body, and the clothes that one would even find it hard to believe that he was a collector of such tastes, though a few of the women as they gazed at him sneakily.
For the young robber, the words did touch him, but they touched him differently in his head.
"Hah! Pathetic nonsense!" The young man was suddenly overcome by a feeling of envy and hate. He refused to understand and so with that he placed the figurines in his hands back into the paper bag and dangled it in front of Desmond's eyes.
"They are so precious, right? Well no more!" He said as he slammed the bag on the floor!
Crash!
He then stepped on them for good measure, the sound of glass breaking beneath his boots brought him joy and he looked at Desmond and wanted to see the look of despair on the man's face.
Everything froze, even the criminal at the cash register stopped what he was doing as he heard the sound of glass breaking. Everyone else watched in horror at this act.
The pain of having all your life's work destroyed in front of you is unlike any other.
Desmond's face was expressionless, his eyes just kept looking at the paper bag that was stepped flat on the floor. Memories and emotions of how he felt the joy of buying each one was playing through his mind, the ones that he had in there were all the princess as they were the first ones that he fell in love with.
Each one is special, from their background stories to their appearances. The other thing was that these figurines are now so rare that they can be barely found easily without spending a lot of resources such as time and money.
Without saying anything, he crawled towards the smashed and crashed paper bag.
"Heh! Look at him, crawling like a worm for trash like this." The young criminal continued to jeer as he watched Desmond reach for the bag under his foot. Seeing this, he stepped back and let him have it as he had enough fun even if there were no wails and cries of despair the look on his face was good enough for him.
Desmond having grabbed his paper bag sat up with his legs crossed when he had the bag in his hands without the care of his guard, he opened it and saw nothing but mismatched broken porcelain glasses as well as dust that made it all impossible to recognize one piece from the other.
Closing his eyes for a second he opened them along with his mouth towards the young criminal that was about to return back to his post, seemingly satisfied with what he had done.
"Did it feel good?" Desmond's voice was like a whisper but could be heard but everyone made the young robber stop in his tracks and turn around.
"What?" He asked, perhaps not hearing what was said, or perhaps he did but didn't believe it.
"Did it feel good, to crush the work, hope, and dreams of a regular man because of your own inferiority, uselessness, and lack of purpose, dreams, and goals, kid?" Staring at the young criminal with a calm and still gaze that made the young criminal visibly flinch as he asked again.
This made the young criminal very pissed at Desmond's attitude, before he could open his mouth again Desmond spoke once more.
"Do you know what that makes you, kid?" He paused as he asked once more, his eyes looked at him with disappointment as he gently shook his head
"It just means that you are the pathetic one here kid, all you do is eat, sleep, breathe, shit and repeat. There are no aspirations, dreams, or goals in that head and heart of yours, you have nothing to offer to this world other than wasting air and food. The only difference between you and a cripple is that you have full body functions, even using them as a comparison is an insult to them. You on the other hand are nothing but a waste, even worse than waste." Desmond ended with a small chuckle, as he looked up to the young man that was trembling greatly at each word.
But it really made everyone afraid for Desmond at this point, even the other criminals.
He felt everyone's gazes on him, even his comrades. The feelings of shame, humiliation, hate, and anger could be practically seen in his eyes.
He slowly walked towards Desmond with his gun tightly clenched in hand and every bit of his body shaking, when the young inexperienced criminal got close as he lowered himself to grab Desmond by the collar and perhaps proceed to beat him up or shoot him.
But it was a mistake.
In fact, it was a bad mistake from the moment he chose not to ignore Desmond's unconscious remake earlier.
In Desmond's perception from the hand that reaching out for him or the looks of horror from the other hostages, all seemed to have slowed down.
'All according to plan.' He chuckled darkly in his mind and got to work.
15 minutes later
For the hostages, everything had happened so fast!
Each one had various looks of horror on their faces as they looked at the criminals that were wailing like kids on the floor while holding stumps of their limps that had been crudely bandaged and the tall man with a bloodied shirt as well as that bloodied ax at the side that laid with a few bloody hands and legs next to it.
Grabbing a large jacket to cover his bloodied shirt and he then wiped his bloody hands. Desmond picked up his paper bag with the crushed figurines gently as he calmly walked out of the store.
Probably having scarred both the hostages and criminals, maybe more psychological for the hostages and both physical and psychological for the criminals as they would be having sleepless dreams of the laughing ax-wielding bloodied figure for weeks if not longer.
45 minutes later
Desmond was in his house in the room he had placed all his collections, his house was not that far from the shop it was always a 30-minute walk from there to his house.
The reason for the extra 15 minutes could be seen on Desmond's body, he was so pale and sweaty, his body trembling at intervals. He sat in a chair in the middle of the room as he gazed at his life collections.
"Heh! To think I have become rusty after 5 years in the army, I got shot three times. Tsk! Lucky little bastards, hope they enjoy their new lives, *Cough-cough*!" He then looked about this special room, it was filled with a couple of posters here and there all with princesses, and the shelves were lined with figurines as well.
Turning toward one shelf that was empty, he was saddened as he held the crumpled paper bag close to his chest. He got up and went towards it, there he poured the shattered pieces where they should have been always.
"There you are girls, I brought you back home. Forgive me for being so useless and not bringing you all back in one piece. But they too will never be in one piece again." He had a bright smile on his face and looked at the broken pieces as he sat back in his chair.
"Haa! Damn! Damn! What was wrong today! Normally I would use my special bag to carry them, what happened today to make me leave home without it? Now I have lost my first princesses and I am going to die." He vented a little before he calmed down and continued,
"But I left my will, I hope they do burn my body along with my darlings as I have stated and scatter my ashes in the ocean." He said with a smile at the thought of taking along his collections.
He looked over to the other side and noticed a few certificates and a bunch of pictures with girls young and old all of them wearing princess outfits. Some of the certificates had a crown and others a magic wand, one read.
[To our one and only Prince Charming.
To Mr. Desmond Hel]
"Prince Charming, huh? But I don't want to be Prince Charming, I want to be a dragon and hoard all the princesses and treasures in my castle, defend them, care for them, love them, and treasure them for all eternity." He said to no one as he felt the creeping cold grip of death holding on to him as his strength, breath and eventually life left him.