27.
The corridors were empty, but filled with echoes. Echoes of laughing. Men laughing. I caught a faint hint of cigar smoke as I slowly made my way to the bathroom. I stopped as I heard the faint echo of footsteps that I knew were not mine. When I heard nothing more, I continued my trek to the bathroom.
The bathroom looked like a normal public bathroom. It had four sinks, complete with eight stalls. It was a wonderfully tiled bathroom. The tiles were color coordinate with the stalls. I felt almost normal, it was as if I was in the bathroom at my work. I turned on the water to the faucet, waiting patiently for the heat. I stared at my pale beaten face in the mirror. When the water was finally heated, I splashed it all over my face. I took in handfuls of water and swished, spitting out anything that remained. Finally, content and warm faced from the water, I walked to the last stall. I reached for my belt buckle to undo my pants. Ready to sit on the toilet, think and try to relax, I heard the bathroom door slowly open.
My eyes opened widely. I almost stopped breathing completely. It was the woman's bathroom, but the boots that echoed did not belong to that of a woman. I out reached both my arms and grasped the metal rails on each side. Trying to make no sound, I slowly lifted up my legs up and placed them onto the toilet seat, crouching.
My heart began to pound as the noise from the boots came closer. Whoever it was, knew that I was in the bathroom. I had no idea what to expect, but I expected it all. I swallowed hard, my eyes becoming watery with fear. As I could no longer contain myself, I began to breathe out of my mouth. I no longer heard the sound, but I knew the entity still remained inside.
In less than the blink of an eye, the stall door shot open, connecting with my nose. As I fell from my crouching position, my butt crashing upon the toilet seat, out of instinct I grabbed my nose for it was gushing with blood. As the pain was sending shock waves throughout my body, I caught a glimpse of my attacker.
He was the tallest man I had ever seen. He had long black curly hair, black eyes and a curly black bushy beard. Out of nowhere, his hands came and grasped my neck. He pulled me out of the stall like a rag-doll and violently thrashed me into the tiled wall of the bathroom. I heard tiles break as I made impact, losing my wind.
With little breath left inside, his grip became even tighter. His eyes were dark and black as tar. I took my fingers to his arms and dug. I tried to pierce the skin with my nails. Even though I began to draw blood, he did not flinch once. His arm's length was too long for me to even connect with a decent punch. I could barely reach his eyes to push them in with my thumbs. As I felt lightheaded and felt the life leaving me, I tried one last thing. I plugged his nose.
As I tried holding on for dear life, his mouth dropped open. My chance. My hand shot out quickly into his mouth, gagging him. He dropped me like a sack of potatoes. I went after the only thing that I knew would hurt him, his balls. It was a hard punch to the family jewels with my packed fist. The big hairy man gasped his balls as he fell back, hitting his head on the edge of the toilet seat. It would seem that on the verge of anything, anger could fuel it all. After having my face bashed in with the door and being nearly strangled to death, I found the strength to crawl upon my attacker's body and punch him numerous times in the head, without remorse. As the blood poured out of his face in various locations like a volcano, shaking, I pulled myself up using the metal side rails of the bathroom stall. With my face and fists covered in blood, I sneered at him and and then spat in his face. I had no idea if he was alive or dead, but I left it at that and tried to casually walk out of the bathroom. It was the worst fake shit in my life that I had ever tried to get out.
I slipped through the door, but fell as soon as I took a few steps. On my knees, I coughed loudly and spit up the blood that had run from the back of my nose and into my mouth.
Paige opened her eyes slowly, looked at me and then closed them. They then opened again, this time wildly. "What the Fuck, are you okay? What happened?"
I was still coughing uncontrollably. I released only a few words. "Attacked, in bathroom."
Paige was swift with her response. She pulled the walkie-talkie from her belt. "Dad, emergency."
The line was silent for at least five seconds before he replied. "Go ahead Paige."
"Code red dad, she's been attacked." Paige looked at me as she spoke. Worry was in her eyes. I knew she wanted to be my side helping, but she had to send out the call for alarm.
"Okay, make sure the doors locked, get everything packed and ready to go, we are on our way." Barrett's voice chimed over the walkie-talkie.
Paige didn't hesitate. She pulled out her Sidearm and walked to the door. She opened it and looked out in every direction. She locked the door and then came to my side. "Are you okay?"
My head was exploding with pain, my vision was blurred and I could barely breathe, but all I knew was I wanted to get the hell out, so I nodded.
Paige was swift in packing and in no time the boys returned. Our departure was quick. Everyone had guns drawn except for me. On our way out, Barrett inspected the woman's bathroom, only to find a pile of blood where the gigantic body had lain. When finally I was placed inside the car, a brief sigh of relief was expelled. The blood that had spilled from my nose was dry and crusted down my face. I looked forward to a warm shower and hopefully a good night's sleep.
I felt a coldness disengage me from the warmth. I felt the hot sweats as they covered me like fireballs. As I keeled upon the fiery grounds of hell, as I once again met the eyes of Asmodeus. He surrendered me to the construction of a temple, Solomon's Temple. As I held the whip, I watched as innocent lives were forced to use their blood to build the structure. And as they resisted, I was to whip them, but I couldn't. No matter how much destruction and death I caused, I could not force them into a fiery labor. As I watched them falter, I wished to help. As I stood there motionless, whip in hand and non-responsive, I was whipped myself. I fell to my knees and planted my hands into the ashy grounds of the hell and clenched my teeth as hard as possible, for I knew, no matter what, I would never give in. Asmodeus's eyes grew a fiery yellow. His sly smile showed his sharp fangs. He just laughed as I cowered in his presence.
As I was finally shaken from my nightmares, I woke up to a virgin sun. I awoke to a mild yellowness cascading throughout my room. As I extend my hand and smoothed it over the mattress, I felt her indentation. I knew she was there and knew she had left. I wondered, if she had not been there, would my dreams have been any worse? Regardless, I raised myself from the bed. Every part of my body was sore and I walked slowly with a limp. I walked outside and admired the beach view. I took a deep breath and enjoyed the cool wind as it caressed my sore body. I took a few moments outside, soaking in the air and the sounds. When I finally felt content and calm, I walked back inside. As I slowly touched my face with my hand, I did so very lightly trying to survey the damage, without causing any pain. The crusty blood still inhabited my face, which I gratefully washed off in the warm shower.
I used the time to wash away my pain and quietly cried to myself. I sat in the corner, put my head down and softly sobbed into my lap. As I was losing myself into my sadness, I heard a knock at my bathroom door. I got up quickly and turned off the shower, verifying a door knock is what I heard. There were two more soft knocks on the door and then I heard Paige's voice.
"Lill, are you okay?"
I stood still the shower, hand still placed over the faucet handle, body dripping wet. "Yeah, just taking a long shower, why? What's up?"
"Oh nothing, but Dr. Cole is here to see you. He wants to make sure everything is okay and to administer your shot. I'll send him up in about 20 minutes or so, give you some time to put some clothes and to compose yourself."
I was pretty sure she knew that I was crying. I was okay with that. I knew no matter what, when you're with somebody that you care about, they know everything about you.
Since it was Sunday, I skipped the whole workout clothing thing. I knew there was no training
on Sunday, just resting. I pulled up my jeans, threw on my New Balances and pulled over a shirt. I sat on the bed waiting. I was no stranger to the waiting game anymore these days. I could stare at a wall for hours and hours and still not be phased. Sitting at the edge of the bed and getting tired of the position, I laid back. I tried to take deep relaxing breaths. It was the end of the week and I was wondering if my muscle aches were actually from fighting, or rather lack of cocktail. As I began to relax and the world stopped moving, my eyes began to close. Just as I found a bit of peace, there's was a knock at the door and Dr. Cole emerged.
His glasses as usual were low and hanging from the tip of his nose. His smile always gleaming behind his white goatee. He was a short man, maybe about five foot four. No matter his task, he always performed it gratefully and with pride. As he walked up to me and settled his bag on the ground, I sat up and greeted him with a smile.
Dr. Cole smiled and shook my hand warmly. "How are you, my dear Lillian Ann cross? I hear, you had some excitement last night. Well, after the excitement that you already had."
He had to remind me. My smile faded as well as my handshake. But if anything at all, perhaps I could get some answers out of him. "I did." I shook my head. "I mean, besides what happened earlier in the evening. Afterward I was attacked in the bathroom by a very big man. Does that ever happen?"
As he began to look over my face, and my nose, he spoke. "Well, I have heard of things like this happen. It would seem that, some of the other teams may not be so happy about a death of their fighter. Out of retaliation, they have sent someone to kill."
"Oh." I said as Dr. Cole extended my arm and penetrated my skin with the cocktail syringe..
"Now, let's talk about you shall we? How are you feeling these days? Do we have any pains that we need to worry about? How are you holding up?"
I shrugged my shoulders and smiled smugly. "Well, I cannot tell if it's from the fighting, but my muscles do ache at the end the week."
As Dr. Cole placed in the syringe bottle back into his bag, he replied. "Mmmmm, I have been working on this cocktail. Every month or so I seem to have to make it stronger. I don't know if your body is adapting to it." He breathed deeply and took a few steps back. "I'm trying to perfect it and put it into pill form, but this is becoming sort of a tedious process." He took a few more steps back, pulled his glasses from his nose and began to wipe them clean with his shirt. "Well, for the most part, you seem to be healing quickly and well." He smiled. I knew his smile derived from the fact of pure satisfaction, for I was his Frankenstein project that had been successful.
Feeling the coolness from the cocktail pulsating through my veins, I watched as Dr. Cole packed up his bag and began to leave. "Dr. Cole?"
He turned from the door to face me. "Yes child?"
I was hesitant, but I asked anyway. "Is there any way at all you could get me out of here?" It was a stupid question, but I had to ask it anyway. I loved Paige so very much, but I knew were her loyalties laid. Dr. Cole was not a last resort, but rather another option. I had been out of the loop for so long. I had been missing out on real-life. I was losing my grip upon humanity. I was losing my soul. As I continued on my path of destruction, my humanity would be completely dissolved. I was turning into an animal. I was turning into a creature that I tried so desperately to fight. Lillian Ann cross was a faint entity that was slowly fading away. All I knew of myself these days, was the Switchblade Mama. She was a horrible creature. She was a disgusting shell of a human being that did terrible things to survive. She was nothing more than pure evil and I wanted nothing to do with her. So I reached out. With the last part of my human side, I reached out for help and asked it from Dr. Sebastian Cole. All I could hear in the back of my head was, everyone has a stake in this. For a moment I tried so desperately to hold onto that one last glimmer of hope. That one last chance that I might be able to breathe in air as a free woman.
Dr. Cole placed his glasses back on to his face and answered. He smiled, taking a deep breath and expelling it through his words. "My child, your request has been duly noted, but I?"
I didn't let him finish. I just raised my hand and shook it. "It's okay Doc, just forget I asked." It was gone. That tiny glimmer, the speckle of hope was gone. It was the last step to me losing myself. Lillian Ann cross was dead. I shed her skin completely from my body. The Switchblade Mama was now at the reins. I had no choice other than to press on and become vicious and soulless. Dr. Cole gave me one last smile before he left.
It wasn't the week from hell, but it was a week. Everything was business as usual. Wake up, eat, train, eat, and sleep. It wasn't until Friday, the day before my next fight, that something peculiar happened.
It was after training and I had showered. It was nearly 4:30 PM and the sun was slowly making its descent. Training had finished early and I had time to relax before dinner. I laid on the bed, MP3 player blaring, trying to relax. As I saw the knob on the door turn, I figured it was Paige summoning for dinner. This was not the case. A well shaven, well-dressed man entered the room with a box in hand. He was a short man. His hair had turned to a salt-and-pepper hue. The lines that creased his face shone the wear and tear of life. His face was clean shaven and his eyes were green. He smelled of a pleasant cleanliness. He was but a humble servant of the Bishops.
I shot up quickly from the bed and as he spoke, hearing not a word for I still had the ear buds firmly planted in my ears. As he placed the box onto the bed, I pulled them out. "Come again?" I asked. Barrett, Clive and Paige came into the room, following the well-dressed man.
With his hands neatly by his sides and with his chin up, he eloquently spoke. "Lillian Ann Cross, Bishop is requesting you to a dinner. Please put on the clothes provided inside the box. Please put them on hastily, for your limo is waiting outside." He turned, and in military mode, left the room.
I looked at Barrett and he looked at me. I cocked my right brow. "Is he serious?"
Barrett lifted his arms and shrugged. "Well, that is his driver and that is his limo below. This has never happened before, but it's legit kid." Barrett walked up to the box that laid on the bed. He pulled off the lid, looked at and inspected the contents within. Inside laid a tuxedo. A plain black and white. Barrett's expression was as flabbergasted as mine. He walked back and shooed everyone outside of the room. He gave me one last look and spoke. "Well kid, you better put it on and please the man. After all, he is paying our bills." Barrett left, giving me some privacy to dress.
I was left with the first tuxedo I would ever have to wear. I completely hated the whole idea, but I had no other choice. Once the suit was on, I looked at myself in the mirror. The hair. The hair was not going with the whole attire. I went to my bathroom and re-did my look. I soaked it, gelled it and slicked back. I went back to the bed and pulled the scarf out of the box. It was a silk scarf, white. I wrapped it around my neck and ever so carefully offset it. I put on the shiny dress shoes that the box contained and my outfit was finally complete. I went to the door knocked.
Barrett slowly opened the door. Paige and Clive were also present. As I took a few steps out of the room, I could hear Barrett's low raspy voice. "She looks just like a man. What the Fuck is possessing through Mr. Bishop's mind?"
I sneered and looked at Barrett. I pointed at him. "Please do not make me feel more ridiculous than I already do." I smiled and continued my way downstairs. I was led through the kitchen and out of the garage. The garage door was opened with the limo waiting in the driveway. The proper driver was waiting patiently outside limo. As soon as he saw me, he opened the door to the back and let me inside. I took one last look at the house searching for Paige. When I saw her eyes, I smiled. I had to as least give her a quiet goodbye. The whole situation had my nerves in a bind, something was not right.
With my head pointed downward, I plopped myself inside the limo. The door was firmly shut. With my eyes pointed downward, I gathered the sight of black high heels. I began to trail upward, legs, a black velvet dress,
spaghetti straps and a firm upper body. When at last I finally reached the eyes, the blue icicle eyes, it was not Paul Bishop, but rather his evil counterpart Michelle Bishop. She was wearing the same dress the night that she met me. I could feel the chills running upside my back. I did not like this woman and she knew it. She fed off of my fear. What a fantastic game she played. It was a game of cat and mouse and I was the mouse. I covered my hands over my brow and rubbed my eyes. She looked at me, pleasantly evil, champagne in hand, sipping it slowly." That's quite a number you did on my man the other night. You actually brought a grown man to tears." She took a deep breath and rubbed her bottom lip with the top of her teeth. "He seriously could not believe that he had been beaten up by a girl. He came in crying and then he quit. Because of you I lost a very good man. A man that had no problem doing my dirty work."
It made perfect sense then. She sent the goon to the bathroom. She tried to pick me up the other night. It was true then, she would stop at nothing to have me. "So he is okay? He's not dead?" I asked.
Michele leaned back in her seat and let out a low cackle. "Oh no my little warrior, he's not dead, but his pride may need some working on." Eyes narrowed, she leaned in closer. "Why is it that you care? I thought you would be happy if he were to be dead. You killed somebody that night, what's the difference if you killed him?"
Breathing quietly, I sat for a moment to gather my thoughts. I closed my eyes and slowly raised them back up. I took a deep breath and exhaled it with my words, slowly shaking my head. "Because I don't want to become a monster."
She licked her lips, showing teeth with a wicked smile. "Well, I think it's a little too late for that."
Her eyes met mine once again. She took another drink of her champagne, pulled out a cigarette, lit it and began to smoke. "I told you, my husband has his toys." As the limo began to move, she indulged in her cigarette a little bit more, taking deep long drags. "What he has, eventually becomes mine." Her head tilted. Behind those red covered lips in lipstick, she grinned. "By the way, you look absolutely smashing in that tux."
I became angry. My eyes narrowed and I scowled at her. "Fuck you, you sick, sadistic, old wilting bitch." Were the only words that I could muster out. My hands were grabbing at the ends of seat in the limo. My nails were digging into the fabric. I could feel the anger rising. I could feel the insanity of the Switchblade Mama trying to release itself. I wanted so desperately to put my hands around her neck and ring it.
Michelle took another drag from her cigarette and released. The plume of smoke clouding the whole Limo. She once again gave off another grin as she took a sip of her champagne. "That is the whole point, isn't it, my little warrior."
I was disgusted. I looked at her up and down and tried to reply with something hateful. "Old fucking bitch. Who the Fuck would want to touch you? You're probably filled with fake ass parts that you bought."
Michelle Bishop never flinched. She didn't purse her lips, nor flash any kind of movement from her eyes. My statement completely did not phase her. It was apparent that my remarks had absolutely no effect on her whatsoever. No matter what, I would continue to jab at the bitch, for I did not like her one bit.
Her red lips once again swirled upward, creating a smile. "I'll have you know girl, nothing on this body is fake. It has been molded and sculpted by the best trainers money can buy. But, no need to kiss and tell, for you shall soon find out."
The very words sent shivers down my spine. I had already gathered the conclusion, but her statement verified it even more. I knew exactly what she wanted to do with me. There was no way out. I looked left and right out the windows of the limo. Plans were jumping into my head. I could punch out the window and escape through it. Sweat began to bead over on my four head. Nervousness began to plague my mind. I clasped my hands together, and placed my elbows upon my knees and stared at the floor of the limo. The plan was in check and nearly ready for execution. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, ready for action, I heard Michelle's voice.
"If you plan on escaping, don't even think about it. I have big plans for your little bitch of a girlfriend should you do so."
I looked at her quickly, my eyes filled with fear. I swallowed hard. I tried to play the dumb girl. "I don't know what you're talking?"
"Please, you cannot bullshit the bullshitter. Don't think I don't have eyes all over the beach and the farmhouse? I know about this affair you two girls have been having. I know about the extreme ass whooping Barrett gave you. I even know about you two ladies and your rendezvous' in the forest." She took a deep breath and sat back in her seat, switching her crossed legs. "What have you got to say about that, Ms. smart ass remarks?"
I said nothing. I remained silent. It was disgusting. Another person was being used against me. Another person that I loved.
She tilted her head and smiled once again. "Good, now that we have an understanding for each other, I suggest you will behave yourself?"
I just nodded my head. All plans for escape had faded away. I had nothing left. I was once again another bitch in someone else's life.
Michelle raised her arm and back tapped on the driver's window behind her. It slowly lowered and she barked out orders. "The blindfold please." The driver, with one hand gripped on the wheel, picked up the blindfold from the passenger seat and handed it to Michelle Bishop. She smiled as she chucked it onto my lap. "Please place the blindfold over your eyes."
I hesitated but did as I was told. The blindfold went on and once again, I was shrouded with darkness.
With the blindfold firmly in place, and silence concrete, I wished to start a conversation and kick it up a bit. I didn't know much about Paul, but from what Paige told me, he had a hunger for the disturbing. Sitting tall and remaining firm, I began to size Michelle up. "Did you know your husband has an appetite for young girls? Despite all that money that you have put into your body, he would prefer a young girl over you?" If I was to learn anything about the man that I needed to defeat, I had to spark the fire. "I mean, really young girls."
There was a bit of a silence after my statement. I was almost sure that my question would go unanswered. It was soon after, that the silence was interrupted by Michelle's voice. Her words were short and filled with anger. "Yes, I am aware of my husband's indiscretions. I am aware of his fascinations with little whores that litter themselves upon the streets at night. You play quite the hand, my little warrior."
The spark was made. I could feel the anger flowing out over her tongue. Blindfolded, smiling and not able to see her facial expression, I shot back with another bullet." It doesn't bug you at all that your husband's dirty playful antics in these alleys aren't bringing back some sort of vagina melting disease to you?"
Her voice once again came over the smooth vibrations of the limo. "Sweetie, my husband's dick can melt off for all I care. As far as him using it on me, not in ages. I care not to have the diseased old wilting piece of shit inside of me. You come at me with every disgusting detail, but as far as I'm concerned, Paul and his little whores can burn in hell."
Small victory for me. The smile was placed within my soul, but my mouth remained motionless. Paul had a weakness, whores. If I ever escaped, I would use it to my advantage. For every weakness, there was an angle to succeed. Still not smiling but happy with myself, I could feel Michelle flustered.
I must've pushed a few of Michelle's buttons, for she remained silent the rest of the way. Behind the blindfold, I closed my eyes. I tried to relax. I tried to focus. I knew upon reaching our destination, what I was going to have to do, was what I dreaded doing. I focused on seeing Paige and her beautiful eyes. I wished to hold her and keep her close. As time pressed on, the cabin of the limo was filled with cigarette smoke and champagne once again. I so desperately needed a drag from a cigarette. I denied myself the right to ask. I sat on my seat blindly wearing my tux, butterflies fluttered about my stomach.
The limo finally slithered in for a slow stop. I could feel my heart inside my chest begin to race.
I dug my nails firmly into the seat of the limo once again. I swallowed hard. The queue was given and I pulled off my blindfold. Blindsided, I stared in the eyes of the ice Queen herself, Michelle Bishop. I still muttered not one word. I just awaited instruction.
Michelle, the strong bold woman that she was looked at me, solemnly, and laid down the line. "You do understand what here is at stake? We currently reside at a five-star hotel, something which the likes of you, everyday trash, has never had the pleasure to experience. Do you understand?" Her menacing smile completed the chaos.
I wasn't too happy with the last statement, but I nodded nevertheless.
"Good, so let me be clear. You try anything and that little bitch you call a girlfriend will suffer the utmost torture by my hand. To be more specific, I will cut off each of her titties, one by one and shove them into her fucking mouth, do you understand?" She leaned back in her seat and with much pleasure licked her lips, slowly.
If anything, I could feel the heat from the flames spewing from her mouth. I always wondered what Asmodeus's purpose was in my dreams. It was perhaps true that Michelle Bishop was Asmodeus himself in human form. Either way, I wanted no harm to come to Paige, so I complied and once again nodded. After all, I wanted nothing to do with destroying Michelle Bishop's evening. It was a quirky move on her part and I wondered if Paul knew what she was up to.
Her face of satisfaction never left. She slightly smiled at me and notified the driver that we were ready to exit the limo.
I was frightened. It was the first time in two years that I was to be exposed to true human life. I was to exit the limo and be with actual people. I kept my head down. When at last, the rear door was swung open by the driver, I waited for Michelle Bishop to make her exit. As soon as she stepped out, I followed. Like an obedient dog, I stood by her and took her arm into mine. I was prim and proper and dressed to impress. I walked with Michelle, no smile present. I held my breath as we walked through the crowds of people and entered the magnificent five-star hotel. I smiled but spoke not one word as Michelle went to the front counter and obtained the key to our room. The very key that would lead me to darkness of mind.
As we entered the elevator and waited, the silence was a welcome friend. My nostrils were filled with Michelle's perfume. I kept my head pointed to the ground and not once looked at her, though my arm, snugly locked with hers.
As the elevator finally stopped and the doors opened, I could feel my pulse elevated. Arms clasped, she led and I followed. We walked down the hallway some bit. The dim glow of the floors light created the undertone of a mild hell.
When at last our destination was finally met, Michelle placed the key card into the door and it opened. The room was extravagant, as well as the big men nested within it. My motionless face became a frown, as I was ready to take my medicine.
The room was of course nothing less than perfect. Beautiful Victorian decorations. Comfy sofas, wonderfully crafted wooden tables. Vaulted ceilings and crystal chandeliers. The room was decorated with freshly cut white roses. With candles lit, they enhanced the fragrance throughout the room. Their uplifting smell momentarily gave me an inside calmness.
There was a table set and beautifully decorated with china plates. I was urged into a seat by one of the large guards. Michelle was nicely seated by another. The candles were nicely lit creating a warm feeling. I tried not to let myself be fooled. This woman was not trying to be nice. This woman wanted something other than companionship.
She began to eat. I remained motionless. She looked up at me. "Eat, my little warrior. I have provided a delicious meal for the both of us."
Without looking at her, I slightly pushed my plate in front of me. "I'm not real hungry, but thanks."
It was loud and abrupt. She looked at me with her piercing blue eyes and spoke. "Eat."
The guards came closer to me. Startled, I pulled my plate closer and picked up my fork and knife.
Chewing, Michelle smiled as she waved off the two big bodyguards. They silently faded away. They hid themselves into the darkness of the other room. Their presence melting, leaving the slight pitter patter of their gigantic feet, for the moment.
I slowly cut a piece of my meat. Since being kidnapped, I found myself always hungry. But at that point in time, I ate just to survive. As I chewed, my mouth was bursting with flavor. The lamb was succulent and rich. I tried not to rush, for I knew after dinner, the unpleasant was to begin, but I was so hungry. I tried to lag, but before I knew it my plate was cleared.
As Michelle finished, she pushed back the chair standing up. Her wicked smile once again emerged. "Wait here. I shall summon you when I'm ready." With her long legs carrying her, she disappeared into the bedroom.
I waited for some time at the table. I stared the candles miniature blazing fire. I began to lose myself into deep thought. The door to the room opened and the driver emerged. As he walked beside me and entered the bedroom, my eyes locked on him. He pulled open the door and disappeared.
I waited once again in silence and entertained myself by the single flame of a candle. I took my fingers and slowly caressed the tiny flame with them. It was a trick my uncle used to do on holidays. Of course as a child, it almost seemed impossible and therefore the trick, so entertaining. But as an adult, the trick was to do it slowly, but with quick haste. As I moved my fingers slowly back and forth through the flame, I could see my uncle's facial expression. Calm and collected. I could remember my sister and I's reaction. Complete fascination. We never knew how my uncle could trail his fingers through the fire without burning them. It was a simple trick of illusion. If you had high tolerance to heat, it could be done.
As soon as I began to calm and lose myself from the madness, the door to the bedroom was opened and the driver summoned me in. I frowned and lowered my head. I knew what was next. I took a deep breath and lifted myself from the chair. With head still lowered I walked into the bedroom.
I could see Michelle Bishop from the corner of my eye. Without directly looking at her, I could see her in her battle gear. She had even higher heels on now, fishnets, and leather outerwear's. Her upper body was amazing indeed. Her skin was silky smooth and off-white. Not one blemish. I did not want to admit it, but she had the body that every man would crave and every woman would yearn for.
She looked at me but said not one word. Not looking at her, I raised my head and set my gaze around the room. The bed which was made of four wooden cross posts and a canopy, was big warm and inviting. The two bodyguards stood behind her and the driver, like a statue quietly stood behind me. And who could overlook the contraption that sat in front of me. It was a disgusting state of mechanical creation, equipment that was used only to keep a person bound. Two posts and chains hanging from it. I knew it was my wrists that belonged within those metal cuffs. My heart began to race and I waited once again for instruction.
Michelle, high-heeled and dressed in her whippin boy attire, reached over to the dresser and picked up a box of cigarettes. She pulled one out and placed it into one of those fancy filters. Obediently, one of her bodyguards walked up from behind her and lit her cigarette.
She inhaled deeply, tilting her head she looked at me once again. "Now, slowly peel off your suit."
I shuddered and shook my head. As I still stood motionless, I could feel the driver as he placed his hand firmly on my left shoulder. I took my right hand and quickly smashed it upon his, nails digging. I could feel his hands straining as I continued to dig deeper with my nails. He pulled back quickly and I scowled at Michelle. "I can do it myself, thank you."
I took another deep breath. Michelle's eyes were deep, penetrating and scary. Like a devil exhaling fire, the plumes of smoke slowly lifted from her mouth.
Hesitantly, I pulled off the jacket. I began to unbutton my shirt, pulling it off and tossing it to the floor, my upper body was exposed. The only thing keeping me from four beaming and penetrating eyes was my black bra. I unbuttoned my pants and pulled down my zipper. I tossed off my shoe
s and finally removed my pants.
Michelle's lips began to swirl upward once again. She licked them, lubricating and creating a glossy shine over her lipstick. "Well, I see all that exercising and training has been paying off. I couldn't be any more pleased with what stands in front of me."
"Piss off, you ugly old fucking bitch." My anger began to flare up again. I could probably have taken everybody in the room, but unfortunately the two bodyguards were carrying side arms.
"Tisk, tisk my little warrior, there's no need for you to get angry. We are just playing a simple and fun game." She took her cigarette and quickly crushed it out in the ashtray. She then returned to my gaze. "Now, remove of the last two undergarments please."
I swallowed hard. I blinked hard and let out a deep sigh. I quickly tore off my bra and threw to the corner. Slowly, I pulled down the black panties. As soon as they cleared my hips, I heard a gasp from Michelle. I looked up to see her eyes wide and her mouth had been dropped open. The two bodyguards were covering their mouths with her hands and shaking their heads, quietly laughing to themselves. My nakedness was finally complete. I had nothing left to protect myself with. I had my fists, but I couldn't use them. There was nothing protecting me anymore from their protruding eyes. I was all flesh, I was nothing but vulnerable. I could feel the coolness of the air as it pricked up the hairs on my skin. I just stood like a statute trying to cover myself with my arms the best that I could.
Michelle walked up to me. She leaned down a bit to match her face with mine. Michelle placed her right index finger on my four head. She trailed down my nose and slowly staggered it over my lips. She took it and trailed it down my chest, slowly cupping her palm over each mound of my breasts. She trailed her hand down my stomach, digging her nails into the soft tissue as she spoke softly into my ear. "The one thing I cannot resist is the soft touch of a woman's body. Her warmth, her connectivity with me. Luckily for me, my husband gives his warriors the opportunity to keep themselves clean." She leaned in closer, lips hovering over my ear. "Luckily for me, you have good hygiene. But there's one thing I can't seem to overcome." Her hand reached lower until she grabbed me. Her long nails digging in to the very delicate tissues of my womanhood.
I leaned my head back looking into the ceiling. I clenched my eyes shut wincing with pain. She had gone there and I had finally been violated.
Before she pulled away from her violent embrace, her serpent like tongue rimmed my ear. Leaving a thin coat of saliva dripping from it. She slowly pulled back and looked into my eyes, trying to see if any turmoil resided. She took a few steps back and looked at her driver. "Get her into the bathroom please and make sure she's properly shaved. I do not wish to be irritated by that." Before she released her death like grip from my woman parts, she made sure to have a handful of hair to pull away.
It was the worst feeling. I had never had the hairs pulled out, down there. Well, I take that back. There was one time I was using a beard trimmer to "sculpt" it down there. Unfortunately, there was not enough power in the trimmer, thus causing an entanglement. To say the least, it was not the best experience.
As the driver began to take my arm, I pulled away quickly. I faced him and pointed my index and middle finger at him with my right arm. "Unless you wish for me to gouge your eyes out and skull fuck you, I suggest you slowly backed the fuck up." I turned to Michelle at the sound of her laughter. Both bodyguards had their jackets pulled back and side arms ready to go. "I can do that myself, thank you."
"Sure, let me put a weapon into a known killers hands, I don't think so." Michelle said smugly.
"Look lady, you already took my dignity away. Just give me this. You know damn well I'm not going to try anything."
She folded her arms and looked at me suspicious like. "You never know, you might hide the razor and come at me with it later."
I lowered my right eye lid and raised my left eyebrow. "Are you serious? First of all, you already stated that you were going to hurt another person that I love if I tried anything. Second of all, where the hell am I going to hide the razor, in my ass? I'm a tad bit naked here, if you already haven't noticed."
"Fine, razors in the bathroom. Make it quick, please."
I turned, walked to the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I stood for a moment, back leaning against the bathroom door. It was a situation that I had never dealt with before, but at current, I was dealing. I looked at myself in the mirror, completely naked without protection. It's amazing how safe you feel fully clothed. It's amazing how completely useless you can feel when completely naked. I found the razor lying upon the bathroom counter top. It wasn't the usual Bic razor, but rather the old-fashioned types. The kind of razor that Jack the Ripper used to kill his prostitutes. I slowly opened it and looked at its shiny stainless steel in the mirror. I had never used one of these razors before. I took the razor and slowly began to shave the top. Carefully I worked my way down, trying not to nick anything. I said goodbye to my bush, as the hairs glided to the floor of the bathroom. If I wasn't naked before, surely I was naked now. When I was finally finished with my bottom side manicuring, I held the razor in my hand and looked at it one more time. Such a small device, but so capable of such destruction. I took some lotion and carefully smoothed it over my now irritated shaved women part. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as I could feel the stinging sensation bombarding my newly shaved area. I put my hand upon the doorknob and drew in one last deep breath. As I opened the door, I was prepared to lose one last part of my soul.
Michelle hesitated not one bit as I exited the bathroom. She motioned and both of her goons came at me quickly, one at each arm. They guided me to the bounding contraption. With my body in their hands, they placed each of my wrists into the metal cuffs. With a loud metal clinking noise, both arms were raised to a vertical position. I stood motionless, hanging on. My mind became lightheaded. I was still able to visually see things, but unable to register. Everything was a light fuzziness. My eyes were open, but no one was home. I became a shadow of my actual self. I saw things, felt things, but had no control.
The devil was apparent in her eyes. Her pupils of pure ice blue turned into a puddle of red blood. Nothing good came about her. Her smile became menacing and hallucinating stalagmites of flames shot from her back.
I was now a pawn it her disgusting game of cat and mouse. The mouse was finally caught and I was left to please her with her disgusting needs.
As she glided towards me, I could feel her need of destruction. She snapped her fingers and quickly a cat of nine tails was placed into her hand. A fancy whip with nine whipping heads.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I clenched my teeth in preparation for the pain. For support, I grabbed the chains with both hands and held on for dear life.
Michelle Bishop whipped my back as hard as she could. I knew she wanted to hear me scream, but I would never give her the satisfaction. I bit my tongue as hard as I could and screamed loudly inside of my mind. When she grew tired of whipping, she placed every inch of my body into her mouth. When she regained her energy, she began to whip again.
The night proceeded on with me at her mercy. And when she was done with whipping, she slapped my face over and over again. She grabbed around my body, scratching and every piece of skin she could grasp onto. She took my mouth into hers over and over again, biting my tongue, nipping at my lower lip. My back was covered in blood and bits and pieces where she had broken the skin. If her intention was to break me, then she succeeded.
When at last, I could take no more, the strength of my legs buckled beneath me. I closed my eyes and with pure exhaustion shut down my mind. In and out of consciousness, I could feel the metal cuffs being removed from my wrists. I could feel my body being laid upon the bed. I could feel Michelle as she was on top of me, hands all over. Every bit and piece of my soul was completely violated and protruded by her hands. Coming in and out of consciousness, I could feel the pleasure, but mostly I felt the pain.
Darknes
s befell my mind. In a state of incoherence, I felt peace. Sadly on my part, I wished I were dead. Nevertheless, the darkness was a needed state of energy, for I felt comfort within those walls of solid black. I could feel my chest rising and lowering and was disappointed that I was not dead. No, lungs were still processing. I could hear and feel the outside world. Voices, chattering about. I remained silent and darkened in my world of untouched bliss. I wouldn't try to break myself of unconsciousness, oh no. I placed value on my time of disorientation. I welcomed any dream of darkness, or any out of body experience. I just wanted to get away from that wicked woman. I knew that the day would save me. I knew no matter what, she could not keep me in her clutches forever. Though I felt myself rousing I kept my eyes closed. As I remained numb, I could feel motion from the outer world. I kept my eyes closed and my body unresponsive. I felt, once again the smooth vibrations from the limo. In my mind, all I could think of, was that I wanted to go home. In my mind, and winced, for home was not my home, but overall, it was.
Shaken and awoken from a painful slumber, the driver's hands were gripping my shoulder. Waking up, and disoriented, I wrapped my hands around his neck, nails digging deeply. As I penetrated harder, my eyes met his. His expression became filled with fear. Realizing that he was not there to hurt me, I released him from my death grip. I leaned back again and let the tears of fear and pain roll down my cheeks. The driver with all his strength, pulled me up from the seat of the limo and walked me into the beach house. It was still dark outside, but with a hint of rising morning. With me hoisted over his shoulder, he punched in the code and opened the door. In pain I struggled, but I appreciated his efforts to help move me. He was pretty tough for an older guy.
As he opened the door to my room, he took the time to lay me on my bed. Exhausted and beaten, I laid down without complaint. My eyes remained trained on him, for he saluted me before he exited the door.
His smile was wide and never ending. His face became pleasant and inviting. "Lillian Ann Cross. Never forget who you are. You were dragged into a world of complete bull shit, but you still have the power to survive. Don't let these rich bureaucratic ass holes rule you." He smiled at me one more time and turned to the door. Before he placed his hand upon the knob, he looked back and spoke. "We're all stuck here. Show us the way Lillian. Get us out of here."
The words were inspiring but spoken a bit too late. Michelle Bishop had completely broken me. She had completely beaten the fight out of me. My pride was gone and my sanity was withering away like an old piece of fruit. I laid and stared at the ceiling, that with every blink of an eye, the pain became more and more. I laid on my back in complete agony. In the limo, I had laid on my side. I tried it again, but the pain was too much. Letting out a low grunt, I raised myself from the bed and sat at the edge.
Even though the heat was on and the room was warm, I began to shake uncontrollably. I sat at the edge of the bed, still in my wrinkled bloodied tux and stared into nothingness. The darkness soon became unveiled as light slowly began to melt its way into the room. I couldn't move. I was stuck. I wanted so badly to wake myself up and get into the shower, to wash her from me, but I couldn't move.
I couldn't tell how long I sat there in silence and in darkness, well, at least until the sun began to rise. I did nothing but sit and breathe. The evening's events continued to play over and over again in my mind. No matter how many times I thought of it, there was no way I could have changed it. It was inevitable. As the sun began to rise and placed its warm rays upon my back I could feel its heat, but still I continued to shake.
The door slithered quietly open. Paige, bright eyed and a wonderful sight for sore eyes, strolled in as usual to get me up for breakfast.
My eyes rolled in her direction, but my body never moved. I swallowed hard and tried not to let the tears flow, but I knew as soon as I saw her, tears would protrude.
Her smile quickly faded and her eyes became concerned. As she walked to me quickly, she spoke. "What's happened?" She knelt down in front of me, took my hands into hers and placed them into my lap. She looked at me, her beautiful eyes blazing with the true fire of love and of passion. "What has he done to you?"
As I could see her past experiences with Paul and his violations toward her flooding through her eyes, I placed my hands over hers. I felt comfort in her touch. I felt the need to hold her and to breathe her in. To place the icing on top of the cake, I replied to her question. The words, slowly slithered out and rolled off of my lips. I took a deep breath before replying. "Is not what he did, but rather what she did." My eyes remained straight. I remained motionless.
Paige's eyes narrowed. She tilted her head and looked at me confused. "Michelle?" She stood there for a moment questioning. Her head tilted and then her eyes widened. It was then that the memory of Michelle Bishop visiting me in the waiting room while I was taking a shower recovered in her mind.
I took her hand and held it to my cheek, rubbing it up and down my head. I needed to feel her touch, her warmth. "She was the one who sent the attacker in the bathroom."
"What did she do to you?" Paige firmly asked.
I closed my eyes, shook my head and took a deep breath. "Everything she wanted to. Everything on my body has been violated? By her. Her hands, her mouth. There is not one inch of my body that does not contain her essence." As I slowly opened my eyes, tears rolled down.
Paige got up quickly. She was on her way to the door. "I have to tell my father."
Before she could leave my side, I grabbed her arm to stop her. "He must not know. She told me specifically, if anybody found out, it would be your life. I cannot put you at risk like that." I swallowed hard, pulling Paige closer to me. As her face came closer to mine, our lips almost met. She moved in closer to make the connection, but I pulled away. "No, please. I cannot kiss you with her scent on my lips."
Paige sat down on the bed next to me. She put her arm around my shoulder to provide comfort, but only created more pain. As I flinched and winced, she pulled back. "What's wrong with your back?" As I said nothing, Paige slowly helped me peel off the tux jacket.
The morning sunlight revealed the turmoil that had been caused. The shirt was soaked with blood. My back was tarnished with embedded whip marks. Paige had no words at first. She softly and slowly traced her hands over my backside, feeling the swelled bumps from the welting whip lashes underneath the blood soaked shirt. "I have to fix this."
"Please just get me in the shower, please. I need to wash her away."
Paige came back to my side and looked at me. "I do not treat these, you will feel complete pain in the shower."
I shook my head. "I don't care. If I feel pain, then I know she's washed away, Paige, please just help me."
She nodded, helping me up from the bed. Together, we walked into the bathroom. It was a painful process. My blood soaked shirt, as she peeled it off slowly, had dried. As she tore off the shirt, portions that were dried, were ripped off. Quietly, I cried out in pain. When at last, the shirt was finally removed, Paige moved to the shower and turned it on.
The hot streams from the shower heated and fogged up the room. Paige helped me remove my bra. Tired and with no energy, she assisted in the removal of my trousers. When at last I was finally stripped and without clothing, Paige stood in front of me and slowly removed her own.
As I would have taken extreme pleasure in the sight, I was in absolutely no mood for anything, but Paige, out reached her hand and I took it. She slowly led and I followed her into the shower. The hot streams of water were bursting over my open sores upon my back. The sensation created such agony, but the cleansing was a great comfort. I was glad to have the evil woman washed from my skin. Paige came close and held me as grief was casing me to lose balance.
She was so delicate every step of the way. She took a sponge and lathered it up with soap. She cleansed me of all my sins. She took my insecurities and disgust and washed it all away. I could barely stand on my own, but Paige was there to hold me up.
/> As I was finally removed of my impurities, naked and clean, Paige assessed the damage on my back. She rubbed ointments and placed bandages, and where necessary she gave stitches. As she clothed herself for the day's work, she gave me a simple pair of boxers and shirt to wear.
"I'll make an excuse for no training. I'll tell my dad, that Paul give you too much to drink, and you're just hung over. Just stay here and try to get some sleep. You'll need it. I have to go downstairs and get breakfast ready. I'll bring you up plate, okay?"
Sitting once again at the edge of the bed, I nodded. "I doubt I can get any sleep with that bitch in my mind. I'm totally fucked." I looked at Paige, eyes burning from the lack of sleep. "Paige, promise, you won't tell them anything, please?"
Paige looked at me and smiled. The sun had completely risen over the horizon. The room was lit by the natural blazing fire of the sun. Paige came in closer to me, light from the sun setting her brown hair ablaze, damp with natural curls and flowing. She knew my mind was still a mess, so she swifted a light, soft kiss on my forehead. "Sleep, my love. I shall say nothing. I wish to see you through another fight. I will return. Take care." She kissed both my hands and then disappeared out the door.
I fell onto the bed laying on my stomach. I tried to close my eyes, but every time I did I saw her face. I could feel the pain from my back pulsating throughout my body. I could see Michelle as she devoured my entire body with her mouth. I saw her as she stood there smiling. The two bodyguards laughing, unchained me from the dirty contraption and threw me onto the bed for her pleasure. As I laid motionless, I watched as Michelle slowly removed what little undergarment she wore. She crawled onto the bed like a hungry vampire. Her hands were everywhere, touching and grabbing. Her naked body, all over mine. She devoured my neck, biting softly, then hard. As hands wrapped around my neck, she grabbed tightly. Choking, and gasping for air, she straddled me and thrust hard.
It must've been the anger inside of me growing, for when she grew tired of thrust, she traded places and gave me a turn. It was a burst of energy. If she wanted it rough, I would be more than happy to give it to her. I placed my hand on her neck, nails digging. As they began to draw blood, she arched her head in sweet ecstasy. I began to ride her like an insane rodeo rider. Keeping in mind the bodyguards at bay, I tried my best to do harm without doing harm. But the harder I got, the more she enjoyed it. As I became more insane with madness, my mouth began to explore. I took her breast into my lips and bit her nipples, lightly, but with some force.
"Lillian?"
I jolted up quickly. As I did, my hand out reached and I grabbed an arm. I looked up to see Paige. She had a notch of fear planted in her face. I quickly released and drew back my arm. "Sorry, I was dreaming."
"I'm sorry to disturb you. I brought you some breakfast. I thought you should at least try to eat something." Paige placed the mug on the end table. She sat down on the bed next to me and began to run her hand through my short puffy hair. "It's chicken noodle soup. I know it's not a big elaborate breakfast, but it's good on days you don't feel well."
I quickly sat up and picked up the mug. I tested it to see how hot it was and slowly sipped the broth. "Thank you, this is perfect. Did you talk to your father?"
Paige nodded. "Yeah, I told Paul kept you out a greater part of the night. I told him that you're working off a hangover."
I let out soft chuckle. "Well, I only had one glass of champagne." As I took another sip of the soup, I began to think. After dinner was finished, my mind began to melt and become fuzzy. I acted crazy and could remember only bits and pieces of the night. I wondered if Michelle had drugged me as well.
"I'm not going to bother you the rest of the day. I want you to sleep. I'll come by about two hours before we leave, to feed you. You need to at least have food in your belly before your fight. How is your back feeling?"
"Like bloody mashed potatoes. I think I've been through worse though, I'll survive, but thank you."
Before Paige left, she brushed her hand through my hair one more time. I closed my eyes and she snuck in one more kiss. Once again, left me to myself.
I did my best to do it, I truly did. I drank all the broth of the soup, welcoming the warmth from the liquid. I laid back down on the bed, stomach first. I closed my eyes. As my eyes slowly lowered, my other senses became more enhanced. My ears were catching anything and everything. I could hear the TV downstairs, as well as Clive Dross's big mouth. I tried to focus on anything but downstairs or anything that included living for that matter. I focused on the waves as they crashed upon the beach. With every crash, I inhaled. As water silently receded, I exhaled. It was in this rhythmic melody of the ocean that I finally found sleep. At last, the TV in my head which depicted dreams was not working at the moment. The blank, a complete utter blankness of my mind was such a needed thing.
As I was once again loaded into the black Lincoln town car, I felt great pain once again echoing throughout my back. The black bag was placed over my head once and I graciously accepted it. Though I had slept, I felt as if I didn't sleep at all. The smooth harmonies of classic rock continuously vibrated throughout the cabin of the town car. I listened quietly and patiently. I used the scent from Paige's perfume to comfort me and to help me to sleep. As I slowly began to lose consciousness, I could hear Barrett's low voice.
"So, Lillian, what did you and Paul talk about all night long? What was so important that he had keep you all night and into the early parts of the morning?" He asked.
I heard the question and slowly roused. I took a deep breath and quickly tried to think of something. "We talked about current and past fights. In the end, I think it just became a drinking game."
"What did you drink?"
I had to think fast. I knew a man like Paul Bishop wouldn't be sipping on champagne. I took a wild guess it spouted it out. "Brandy?"
There was a brief pause. I thought I was off the hook. I drew a breath of relief, but was once again startled as Barrett asked another question. "Out of all the girls that I have ever had, you were the first that he wanted to have dinner with. Why is that?"
No one could see it, but my eyes grew wide behind my head bag. My mouth slowly dropped and I tried to think of an answer. "Maybe, because none of your girls made it past the first season. Maybe, because I'm the first to surpass your so-called procedure."
He was silent for a bit. Then over the classic rock music, his voice chimed. "Point taken kid. Consider yourself blessed, for the big man himself wished to spend time with you."
Blessed? Fuck that! I didn't find myself blessed, but rather cursed. I had a body full of silicate biotechnologies that required weekly nourishment and without it I would cease to exist. Was that blessed? I didn't think so. If I didn't receive a shot full of who knows what kind of bull shit, my heart would stop and thus my life discontinued. What would he do if he knew my night was actually filled with hard-core sex and continuous whipping? Blessed? Because a guy with a gazillion dollars wants to have dinner with you, you should feel blessed? Fuck that! I once was a human being, with simple functions and needs, but now, now I was just a crazy bitch, "what now master?" Machine. I shook my head. I should be blessed? I was nothing but disgusted. If no repercussions came to my actions, his head would have been removed and even though I didn't really care for the taste, I would have drank the blood from his neck with the utmost pleasure. Blessed, my ass! If I didn't have anything riding on this, I would have killed him the moment I had my chance. Oh no. The human machine stood still. I was glad for his little remark, for it would give me the strength to do what I would have to do on the killing floor. I sneered at Barrett behind my head bag. I smiled as I thought I would place his head upon my opponent's face.
I was still in no condition to fight, but I continued on. The moment was upon us and with just Paige and I in the waiting room, I dressed myself for battle. I was still extremely sleepy, and still in extreme pain.
Paige handed me my knives and I slowly placed them in my pocket, wonder
ing if I would have to use them. As Barrett's voice echoed over the walkie-talkie letting us know that it was time, Paige and I held hands as we exited the door.
The corridor was empty. The lights were fluorescent and bland as usual. The walls were gray and plain. I held on to her hand as tight as possible. In my current condition, I didn't think we would see each other again after the fight. We quietly walked together and as we finally reached the steps, the steps that would lead us out to the killing floor, our hands parted. I did not know what would happen, but I knew in my head I was not in the game. I wanted to tell her so many things, I wanted to tell her that I loved her. As we emerged to the floor, the crowd became rowdy and cheered at the sight of me.
The bright white lights blared into my eyes once again. It was beyond me, why I was not shown videos of this woman in action, so I knew nothing about her. My previous anger for Barrett had worn off, so I lost my ambitions. As soon as my song began to play, I casually walked onto the floor. My mind was distant and gone.
I knew if I didn't fight, I would be dead, or otherwise severely damaged. As the song changed, a little girl casually walked onto the floor. She was short, but well built. She was Asian and looked dangerous. Basher as they called her. Basher entered the floor. She had hands wrapped in leather, with metal studs at her knuckles. At the sight, I knew her weapon wasn't lethal, so I would have to wait. I couldn't draw my knives, unless it was in a kill off situation.
Basher looked at me, eyes so peculiar. She looked at me in such a way that she knew me. My eyes widened and I became uncomfortable. Perhaps she was shown videos of me. Anything was possible.
The whistle was blown and I put up my dukes. I was quick and irresponsible with my moves. I flew at her quickly, punching and kicking, but neither made their mark. She was dodging everything I had for her. She was trying to wear me out.
Basher was quick in everything. As I thought I was predicting her move, I wasn't. She was on top of me and in my face. No matter what, as soon she had a chance, she got behind me and punched my back. I winced with pain. Multiple times, over and over again. The back, always the back. She knew, she had to have known.
I had enough. I had enough of the destruction. Basher, with her iron fists, was all over. As I fell to my knees, face bloodied, I looked to the crowd. I saw Paul, eyes wide and open with such irritation. Then there was Michelle, sitting next to Paul, innocent and by his side. She looked directly into mine, smiling. I knew it was her, she wanted me to fail. The whole fight consisted of my ass getting handed to me. It was difficult fighting with someone else that didn't have a lethal weapon. Basher had her fists and she was using them well. The whole fight was completely unresponsive on my part. Sure, I fought back and gave some punches, but I knew there was nothing there.
I knew it was dirty pool, but to get at her when I could, I used my nails. I got her face a couple times, grabbed her by the arms and dug hard. Either way, it didn't seem to slow her down one bit. She was in my face constantly and if it were not for the implants, something in my face would've been broken.
I grew tired and began to fade away quickly. She was just a shadow. Too quick and knowing exactly where to hit. At one point, I thought severely about pulling one of my knives. If I was to break the rules, they would shoot me. At least if they shot me, I wouldn't have to feel any more pain.
As I balled up my fist, with whatever strength I had left and with little pride, I went in for the connection. The connection, however was never made. Like a disgruntled bull, she bypassed me quickly and kicked me hard on my backside... I embraced the cold concrete as I hit it with my knees. The bottoms of my palms skid over it, breaking fresh skin. With my mouth open breathing heavily, blood slowly poured out. My face was a mask of blood. It was time. Basher was ready for the kill. As she walked towards my head, her fists became solid rock. I looked at her. Her face was filled with pleasure and with pride. It would have brought her nothing more than happiness to end my sad pathetic life. As my gaze left hers, I looked into the crowd and saw Michelle. Nothing but pure satisfaction was planted within her face. With the mayhem she caused upon my back, she must have tipped them off. Because I would not totally give myself to her, it was Michelle Bishop that wished to see my demise.
The anger inside of me grew once again, turning my gaze back to Basher. I could hear the crowd as they chanted, kill, kill. Basher was skilled. She was quick and knowledgeable. She had the drive to survive. Unfortunately, she was unaware of my game of dirty pool. As she egged on the crowd, I prepared as I bled upon all fours. The timing would have to be right on, or in 30 seconds I would no longer be breathing. Basher moved in position for the final blow. The blow that would put me out of my misery once and for all. As she raised her arm, I went for my switchblade. Just as her fists were about to slam down to meet my face, I flipped open the blade and chucked it at her. As the knife pierced her neck like warm butter, her fist almost made contact. I twisted my body and rolled out of the way.
Little Basher dropped to one knee, removing the switchblade from her throat. As she pulled it out and tossed to the ground, she tried quickly to cover the hole that was spurting blood everywhere. I laid on my side and watched her. I watched her as the life slowly faded from her eyes, while she gagged and gasped fighting for air. I watched her as the crowd cheered insanely and no one came to her side for help. I watched her, fall to the ground, bleeding, the very fluid of life slowly seeping away from her body. As I laid on my side, I watched as her very soul escape to hell.
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The Switchblade Mamma Page 26