Hillary_Retribution

by Angel Gelique

“Ya don’t understand, mista, you’s gots ta—”

  Lt. Col. Rigsby aimed his gun at her.

  Hillary continued to cover her head and sob noisily and heavily.

  “Oh dear God, what is happenin’ here?”

  “I’m not going to repeat myself,” the man threatened.

  Miss Billie put her hands up high and quickly moved to the other bed.

  “What’s your name?” Lt. Col. Rigsby asked her.

  “Miss Bil—it’s Wilhemina Gaither.”

  “And how do you know this girl?” He asked, motioning to Hillary.

  “She my friend...I’s helping her find her daddy.”

  “Her daddy?” Lt. Col. Rigsby spat. “The girl’s father is dead. Why is she crying anyway?”

  Lt. Col. Rigsby approached Hillary.

  “Stand up!” He ordered.

  He had the gun aimed at her head.

  “Now you leaves that child alone!” Miss Billie shouted.

  “This doesn’t concern you, now zip it,” Lt. Col. Rigsby barked as he waited for Hillary to comply with his directive.

  Hillary didn’t budge. She was in a fetal position with her head buried within her lap and her back to the door. She sobbed even louder.

  “Are you deaf, I said stand up!” Lt. Col. Rigsby yelled as he jabbed her side with the gun.

  “Caleigh, do as the man say,” Miss Billie said worriedly.

  “Her name’s not Caleigh,” Lt. Col. Rigsby said disgustedly as he pointed to Hillary. “This here is—”

  The lieutenant colonel made the mistake of looking at Miss Billie as he spoke to her. In the few seconds that his back was turned to Hillary, the girl sprang up and bit his wrist. As his fingers reflexively opened in response to the shock and pain, the gun fell to the bed. Hillary swatted it across the mattress and it fell down within the four-inch crack between the bed and the wall.

  Lt. Col. Rigsby screamed as he attempted to dislodge his bleeding hand from between Hillary’s teeth. With his left hand he began shoving her forehead back, but his injured right hand moved with her head. He caught a glimpse of the madness in her eyes and remembered who she was and all of the horrible things she had done. It was only then that he fully appreciated the grave danger that he was in. He began to panic.

  Hillary caught a glimpse of something as well—the name plate pinned to the lieutenant colonel’s uniform.

  Lieutenant Alan Langford....

  It was him...the one she had been searching for…the one responsible for her capture. He was the one who had turned her into a lab rat. He was the one who made her suffer months of confinement, bound unclothed and unclean to a bed in an empty room in the home of a scientific zealot. He was the one she had been after. He had seen fit to pay her a visit. Perhaps he had been contemplating suicide....

  “Get off! Get off!” Lt. Col. Rigsby shrieked in pain.

  Miss Billie was petrified as she watched on in horror. Seeing Hillary bite down on the man’s hand made her own mangled hand throb even more. She held it close to her chest as she prayed silently.

  Hillary dug her right hand into the side of his neck and pierced his flesh with her long, sharp fingernails. She clawed at the raw, bleeding wound while Lt. Col. Rigsby made feeble attempts to pry her away. Even his close-fisted blows had little effect on the raging demon child. He had no actual experience in combat of any kind. He had never so much as gotten into a fist fight in grade school. He was tough with a gun in his hand, but without a weapon—relying solely on his own devices—he was absolutely defenseless.

  Adding substantially to his physical shortcomings was his mental and emotional disintegration. Lt. Colonel Rigsby’s fear crippled him from effectively defending himself. Physically, he was much stronger than the skinny teenager. He should have easily been able to overpower her. Yet as he thought about how she had easily killed and cruelly tortured so many people, including grown men, his fear imprisoned him. It rendered him as effectual as a sad little girl with a skimmed knee.

  Compounding his dire situation even further was the fact that his warped mind—in the midst of certain and painful death—still managed to turn to thoughts of Neuronentin and what might have been. Instead of regretting his unscrupulous course of action, he regretted only the sad reality that he would die without ever achieving his goal...without leaving his mark on the world. His name would be mentioned in newspaper articles and news reports that discussed his tragic death, and then it would be forgotten. Would his son even whisper his name or shed a tear? Here, during the final seconds of his life, Lt. Col. Rigsby finally realized the folly of his actions. But it was far too late. Such is the price of greed and immorality.

  Little did he know that neither Neuronentin, nor any other drug that would come afterward, could ever be effective on Hillary. Hillary was not the ideal candidate that he and Doctor Morrison had believed she was. In truth, Neuronentin was a good drug, one that did, in fact, serve its purpose. Yet, it would never make a difference to Hillary. Neuronentin could suppress rage, but it couldn’t suppress evil.

  Hillary ripped into the man’s throat with ease and perverted pleasure. She unclenched her teeth from his mauled hand and locked them onto his profusely bleeding neck. The sound emanating from the man could no longer be classified as shrieking. It was a gut wrenching mixture of choking, gasping and crying combined to elicit his rasping final pleas.

  Miss Billie was lost in a dream-like stupor, witnessing the carnage, but at the same time disbelieving that it was really happening. It couldn’t be happening. Things like this only happened it horror movies. She was paralyzed by her own array of emotions too overwhelming to allow her to move.

  Lt. Col. Rigsby finally succumbed to the savage teenager. He realized that he had lost a great deal of blood and had sustained irreparable damage to his carotid artery. He would be dead in seconds. His body slumped to the floor, tearing the skin from his jaw line up before breaking off.

  Hillary remained there, kneeling on the bed with a thick, bloody strip of the dead man’s flesh dangling from her teeth. She growled as she glared at Miss Billie with merciless, feral eyes.

  The sound of her menacing snarl revived the old woman’s senses and she quickly ran over to the nightstand between the beds. She could feel Hillary’s ferocious scowl. She could see the girl shifting closer within her peripheral field of vision. Without hesitation, Miss Billie yanked open the top drawer of the nightstand. She was never so pleased in her life before to see a Holy Bible. She thanked God that it was there. She would have had to pass by the possessed girl to get to her own Bible and she definitely didn’t want to do that. She grabbed the book quickly then backed up onto the bed as far back as she could, away from Hillary. She held the Bible over her chest like a shield with her undamaged hand.

  Hillary, or rather, the beast that had invaded her body, chewed noisily on Lt. Col. Rigsby’s flesh as she grinned ominously. Miss Billie expected her to pounce at any second. She trembled with fear but her faith remained unwavering. She had seen how it had pained the demon to hear her pray, to hear the Lord’s name out loud.

  Suddenly, Miss Billie felt this surge of strength overcome her. She didn’t know where it had come from or how it had taken such a powerful grip on her, but she stopped trembling as she became devoid of all fear. With greater resolve than she had ever before experienced in her life, Miss Billie kneeled on the bed, faced the beast and began to pray out loud. Her words were caustic, like acid hurled upon the demon.

  Hillary jumped off the bed and propelled her body forward, toward the other bed...toward Miss Billie. Miss Billie didn’t flinch. She steadfastly continued to pray aloud, even louder, as the deep tone of her voice resonated across the room.

  “Shut up!” the demon hissed loudly as the remains of the flesh fell from her bloody mouth.

  The beast walked up to the edge of the bed but made no attempt to climb on. It contorted its host’s face in despair as Miss Billie’s words stung like fresh lashes from a whip. Miss Billie could see the
beast weakening. She figured the Bible or her prayers—or perhaps both—had created a protective barrier for her. She felt safe and at peace as she prayed for Hillary’s soul.

  “In the name of God, our Father and Lord, be gone with ya, devil,” she spat exuberantly.

  The beast snarled, twisted the body it had seized and pulled at the long hair hanging over its shoulders. It took a step back, then another, then more steps until it stumbled back upon the other bed. It covered its ears and wailed as Miss Billie demanded that it release the girl from its control and domination.

  “Leave that child be, demon,” she shouted furiously.

  “LEAVE THAT CHILD BE, DEMON!” Her voice clamored thunderously.

  The beast lay silent and motionless on the bed. Miss Billie wasn’t quite sure what to do. She has seen the way the demon had pretended to be a weak, crying girl in order to lure the soldier into a deadly trap. This could likewise be a trap.

  “Say somethin’ child,” she said anxiously.

  There was no sound or movement for several minutes. It seemed like a lifetime to Miss Billie, who waited impatiently for some sign from the girl or beast. Finally, Miss Billie slowly got out of bed, carrying the Bible within the crook of her arm. She stood between the two beds for nearly a full minute as she peered at the girl’s lifeless body. With all of the blood on her, she looked dead. It disturbed Miss Billie to see her that way.

  Without fully thinking, she walked over to the girl and placed her uninjured hand on her shoulder. All at once, Hillary flung herself upon the old woman. Miss Billie dropped the Bible as she jumped back in fear. Her heart raced as she expected to be bitten or choked...or worse. Hillary clung to her side. She was crying.

  “Child?” Miss Billie said cautiously.

  Hillary leaned in toward Miss Billie’s ear.

  Miss Billie heard a raspy whisper but could not decipher what the girl had said. She knew one thing, though...it was eerie and made the hair on the back of her neck stand. The demon was not gone. She felt dizzy as she pulled away from the girl’s clutch.

  Hillary fell to the floor beside Lt. Col. Rigsby’s dead body. She gasped when she saw the blood covering his open throat.

  “Miss Billie!” Hillary cried, her arms outstretched to the old woman.

  Miss Billie stared at the girl for a long while.

  “Miss Billie?” Hillary repeated. “I didn’t mean to…I don’t know why I did that....”

  She stood up slowly and hugged the unresponsive woman.

  “Miss Billie,” she said sadly, “Say something...please....”

  Miss Billie’s eyes softened as she began to focus on the anguished girl on the floor looking up at her sadly.

  “Miss Billie?” Hillary called to her softly.

  “Everything’s fine now, child,” she said with a thin smile.

  “What are we going to do? I didn’t mean to...I, I....”

  “No need to explain, I understand...I know ‘xactly what happened.”

  “What are we gonna do now? What about this body?”

  “Do ya know who that man is?” Miss Billie asked.

  Hillary nodded.

  “Yes, Miss Billie. He’s the man who captured me.”

  “Captured you? How?”

  “I was in the woods. I felt something stab me. It was a tranquilizer. That’s the man who shot me with the tranquilizer,” she said, motioning to the corpse.

  Miss Billie nodded.

  “He’s a lieutenant in the army. He took me to a doctor’s house. When I woke up, I was in a room with this man I’d never seen before. He said I was there for my own good. I found out later that I was being used in an experiment to test a drug. I was just a guinea pig....”

  Miss Billie shook her head in disgust.

  “I was held hostage for a long time. During most of that time, I was naked and tied to the bed. The man...he...he raped me....”

  “Oh, child,” Miss Billie said sympathetically.

  “But I escaped. I got away. That man, Lieutenant Alan Langford...that’s the man I told you was the father I wanted to find. I’m sorry I lied, but I just had to find him. I was sick inside knowing that he was out there somewhere living his life when he had stolen months of mine. I couldn’t help it, Miss Billie...I wanted him dead.”

  “And he came to you instead. Why do ya think he went lookin’ for ya?”

  Hillary shrugged.

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “Maybe he was going to take me somewhere else for another experiment.”

  “I know it wasn’t yo’ fault, child...not one bit o’ it was.”

  “I don’t want to go to jail,” she said nervously as tears slid down her cheeks.

  “You ain’t going ta jail, sugar. You killed that man in self defense, I saw for myself.”

  “I bit his throat,” she replied, her voice cracking.

  “It wasn’t you, child...you couldn’t help yo’self.”

  “I killed other people too....”

  “Let’s not think of it, child, go wash up, go get all that blood off ya.”

  “I...I killed my family,” she said tearfully. “They’re all dead...I’m all alone....”

  Miss Billie hugged her tightly.

  “You can’t blame yo’self child, there was something’ in ya...ya felt it, didn’t ya?”

  Hillary nodded as she whimpered piteously.

  “Ya couldn’t fight it...I know...I know....”

  “I—”

  Miss Billie pulled away from Hillary abruptly and walked over to her small suitcase on the seat across the room.

  “You can wear my night gown,” she said dismissively. “It gonna be big on you, I knows, but it’s better than nuthin,’ right?”

  She pulled out a long cotton night gown and handed it to Hillary, who stared at it dubiously. She wiped the tears from her face then carried the gown with her to the bathroom. She took a nice, hot shower as she cried in silence.

  Miss Billie’s head was buzzing. She didn’t know why, but she just didn’t feel like herself at all. She stared at body on the floor. She should have been repulsed. She should have been freaking out, but it didn’t much faze her at all. Had the whole crazy ordeal desensitized her?

  While Hillary showered, Miss Billie considered her options. She could run out of the room, leave Maryland, return to Raleigh and never look back. Or she could call the police, have the girl arrested and go on with her life. Or she could stay put and do her best to help the girl who had been brought into her life.

  It was no choice, really. Miss Billie knew she wouldn’t abandon the girl or turn her in to the authorities. She knew that it was some sort of an evil influence—a demon—that had usurped the girl’s will. They would get some much-needed sleep then head back to Raleigh in the morning. As far as the body was concerned, it could rot in the room for all she cared. He was a bad one, that army man. He deserved to die for what he had done to the girl. She would deal with the repercussions later.

  Twenty minutes later, the sight of Hillary wearing her oversized night gown was enough to make her chuckle lightly. At least it was clean. The girl had no clothing of her own now that she had inadvertently left the bag in the cab. Miss Billie wondered what she would wear when they left the hotel in the morning. Her brain was too weary to figure it out. They would just think of something in the morning.

  “Thank you, Miss Billie.”

  “Fo’ what, child?”

  “For saving me,” Hillary said softly as she planted a kiss on the woman’s cheek.

  “You’s welcome, child,” Miss Billie said. “Now let’s get some sleep.”

  They stripped the blood-stained bedding off the bed and Miss Billie gave Hillary the bedspread from her bed. Miss Billie quickly cleaned the mess in the bathroom since it was making the entire room smell. Then she turned off the light. They both lay in bed, staring out into the darkness. There was so much on both of their minds. Hillary was the first to fall asleep, nearly forty minutes later, with tears in her eyes.
She slept soundly for the first time in years.

  Miss Billie tried to get some rest but her brain was ripe with troubles. It wasn’t just Hillary and the fact that the girl had committed so many atrocities. It wasn’t Hillary at all. It was the beast that troubled Miss Billie...the demon that lurked nearby. Miss Billie tried with all her might to shut her brain off, to power it down for rest of the night so that she could get some much needed rest.

  But something was wrong with her. She could feel it. It had to be all of the excitement they’d had that evening. She was just going through stress or shock. She was probably already developing post traumatic stress disorder. This was just the beginning stages.

  That’s all it is...that’s all it is, she told herself.

  She went to sleep without saying her prayers.

  ~20~

  Miss Billie awoke first. She was typically an early riser but had slept in later than usual. She looked over at the clock. It was already 7:36 a.m. There was a distinct foul odor wafting from the corpse on the floor. To her surprise, her stomach rumbled loudly.

  She looked over at Hillary. The girl was fast asleep. Miss Billie decided to let her sleep until eight o’clock. Then they could leave. She had paid for the room for three days. With any luck the body wouldn’t be discovered for another two days. That would give her time to figure out how she could explain his death. What would she say? A demon killed him? No, she needed a clear head. She would discuss it with Pastor Louie.

  Miss Billie’s face twisted at the thought of the pastor, though she didn’t know why. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to speak with him. A rancid taste filled her mouth. It was far worse than any morning breath she’d ever had. She quickly ran from the bed to the bathroom to spit it out in the toilet. She walked to the sink to rinse out her mouth. She stopped short when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror hanging over the sink. She had blood around her mouth, most of it old and dried.

  Miss Billie frowned as she wondered how it had gotten there. Did she cut her lip somehow? Did the girl do something to her during the night?

  As she reached for the faucet, she noticed that there was dried blood all over her hands. She quickly washed them, careful not to further injure her mutilated right hand, which stung badly under the cool stream of water. Then she rinsed the blood off her mouth. She gargled with water, but the foul taste lingered. In fact, it seemed to somehow intensify. She was tempted to stick the small bar of soap into her mouth to rid it of the putrid flavor that coated it like a pernicious film. The only reason she didn’t do so was that she knew it would only add to, rather than eliminate, the repugnance. She would have given anything for some strong minty mouthwash.