The Power of Words

         The chainsaw buzzed as the gardener walked around, trimming and tidying the bushes. Finishing one side, he hoisted the machinery on his shoulder and turned the corner to the next. The saw continued buzzing.
         "Shouldn't he.... turn off the saw before he moves to the next side?" Indigo lowered her voice and asked as she and Jody walked out of class. The floral scent of the bushes was a pleasant change from the stuffy lecture hall.
         Jody looked over at the gardener. "Yeah. That's a good point, but I mean, he looks like he knows what he's doing..." she trailed off.
         "But still. I mean, what if he accidentally chopped off someone's head like that? Seriously. One slip, and" Indigo's finger trailed across her throat. "You'd be dead!" she whispered, as her eyes widened.
         The pair stopped at a bench by a light pole and began studying for an upcoming exam when the buzzing abruptly stopped. They heard the engine sputter and the gardener curse the machine as he yanked the cord to start the saw again, drowning out the birds' and crickets' chirps. He finished the second side, and the girls discreetly watched him hoist the moving equipment over his shoulder again and move on to the third side.
         "We should get back to work, so we can study more before your next class, Indigo." Jody's voice brought her friend's attention back to their Psychology book.
         The streetlights turned on, and Indigo blinked a few times before refocusing on Freud's theories.
         The girls quizzed each other on various topics for a while longer, until Indigo checked the time and groaned. "I'm going to be late again. Gotta run, sorry, Jody!" Indigo packed up her notes and ran past the bush the gardener had been trimming. The floral scent of the bush mingled with something else Indigo couldn't figure out.
         Something didn't seem right- and she paused to peek around the corner. "Jody!" She screeched, as her eyes bugged. The headless body of the gardener was lying on the ground, blood spurting out of the neck. Nearby, the head was lolling around on the ground, and the chainsaw was dutifully cutting away at whatever it contacted.