Hillary_Retribution

by Angel Gelique

  Miss Billie tried to ignore it. She walked to her suitcase and pulled out a change of clothes. She walked back to the bathroom and started the shower. She disrobed and stepped into the tub. The water was icy cold and she shrieked as she back away from the barrage of arctic droplets. She shivered as she extended her hand to reach the knob. She adjusted it, hoping that the water would get warmer. No matter which way she turned the knob, the water remained frigid.

  Giving up, she shut off the water and climbed out of the tub. There must have been a problem with the hotel’s hot water heater or something. She used a towel and quickly patted herself dry. As she leaned forward to pull on her underwear, a severe cramp assaulted her side. She gasped in pain as she dropped her underwear to the floor and doubled over. She considered calling Hillary for assistance, but didn’t think the young girl would be able to help her.

  As she waited for the pain to subside, she was overcome by an overwhelming surge of nausea. Within seconds a violent explosion of vomit erupted from her mouth and onto the floor. As she coughed and gagged she thought she heard someone talking. Expecting to see Hillary in the room she turned her head to face the doorway. But the door was closed and no one was there. She looked down at the vomitus mess beneath her. It contained an awful lot of blood. She gasped and held her stomach. What was happening to her?

  The cramping had largely diminished after vomiting, so Miss Billie stood up slowly, wiped the splattered puke off her body with the towel and quickly got dressed. She would wake Hillary and get out there once and for all.

  Hillary was already stirring in bed as Miss Billie approached her. She reached over and nudged the girl.

  “Wake up child. I thinks we’s better get outta here.”

  Hillary’s eyes slowly opened. She frowned as if expecting to see someone else hovering over her.

  “So it wasn’t just a bad dream,” she said sadly.

  “No child, things are bad...real bad. You best get out o’ that bed and get ready to go.”

  Hillary sat up.

  “I had the most wonderful dream,” she said, sadness shrouding her face in contradiction to her words.

  “What about, sugar?”

  “My mom was holding me, telling me that she believed me, telling me that everything was going to be all right. She hugged me. I could feel her hug, Miss Billie...I don’t know, I can’t explain it, but it warmed me up inside. I feel like a different person. She...she listened to me...she really heard me.”

  Hillary began to sob.

  “C’mon child, no use gettin’ yo’self all worked up again. We gots ta get movin’ now. This here body’s startin’ to stink.”

  “Maybe we should just call the cops. I’m so tired of running.”

  “No way, no how, no siree,” Miss Billie quickly replied. “Now what do ya s’pose those cops are gonna think? What they gonna believe? You think we tell ‘em that it was the devil himself, they gonna believe us? We gotta figure this out first, child. We gotta think this through. I don’t think they’ll find the body for another coupla days.”

  Hillary nodded in agreement. She looked over at the pungent corpse.

  “What happened to it?” She asked with her brow furrowed in shock and dismay.

  Miss Billie looked at Lt. Col. Rigsby’s stiffening body and gasped. His chest had been torn into. There was a bloody, gaping hole where his heart should have been.

  “What the hell?” Miss Billie blurted out then quickly covered her mouth with her undamaged left hand.

  Where’d that come from? She wondered. She never spoke that way.

  “Child, let’s get outta here, quickly, c’mon, get your things together....”

  Hillary buried her head within her hands and cried.

  “C’mon child, I’s gots ta leave this place.”

  “It was me,” Hillary whimpered. “I must have done it. I’m bad, Miss Billie...evil.”

  “No child, you’s good...you’s just fine, child, stop yo’ cryin’ now and let’s get outta here.”

  “No, no, no,” Hillary mumbled as she shook her head frightfully. “I did it, just like I did all of those other...awful things. Just go, Miss Billie. You go on without me, I’m dangerous.”

  “Now child, you gonna get yo’ butt on up an’ get ready ta go. I’s gots ta get outta here. This place is drivin’ me mad. I ain’t worried ‘bout you hurtin’ me. You’s just fine now, child, I promise.”

  Hillary regained her composure and nodded. She got out of bed and started walking to toward the bathroom.

  “Uh, I kinda made a mess in there,” Miss Billie said.

  Hillary entered the bathroom and saw the mess for herself. It looked bad, but it smelled far worse. It nearly induced her to throw up as well. She plugged her nose as she stepped around the deep crimson mess. Was it...blood? Hillary backed up and left the room.

  “I think I’ll use the bathroom somewhere else...I can hold it. No offense, but that’s a huge mess you made, Miss Billie. Is that blood?

  “I don’t know what that is, child. I told ya, I ain’t feelin’ good here, that’s why I’s gots ta get away.”

  “Okay. Well I don’t have anything to pack and the clothes I wore here are ruined,” Hillary said.

  “So you ready to go?”

  “Like this?” Hillary asked as she pulled at Miss Billie’s night gown. “I can’t walk around like this.”

  “You really don’t gots much choice lest ya wanna walk ‘round in bloody clothes.”

  Hillary scowled. She ran over to her pile of clothes she had tossed into the garbage can. She pulled them out and examined them. The shirt was ruined beyond redemption but her jeans just had a few splotches and streaks of darkened blood. To the unsuspecting eye, it could be paint.

  Hillary slipped them on, grimacing at the way the rough material felt against her delicate crotch. Still, it was better than the night gown.

  “Maybe I can borrow one of your shirts,” she said optimistically.

  “I guess so,” Miss Billie said anxiously as she set down her suitcase and unzipped it. She pulled out one of her tee shirts and handed it to Hillary.

  Hillary turned around and pulled the night gown over her head. Now was not the time for modesty. She pulled the oversized tee shirt on. It looked ridiculous but far less so than the oversized night gown. Hillary had an idea. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out the rubber hair band. She gathered the hemline of the shirt and twisted it all to the left side. She inserted the rubber band to hold it place, doubling it over the slack of material that hung to the side. At least now the shirt was fitted at her waist. It was a drastic improvement.

  “Okay, beauty queen, can we go now?” Miss Billie snapped.

  Hillary nodded slowly. She followed the woman out of the room. It was quiet and empty in the hall as they waited for the elevator.

  “Where are we going to go?” Hillary asked.

  “We’ll take a cab back to the bus station.”

  Hillary nodded. The elevator arrived and they entered. Miss Billie hocked up a thick, frothy clump of sputum which she spat onto the elevator floor to Hillary’s surprise and revulsion. She gave the woman a long, questioning glance but remained silent. The doors to the elevator parted and they entered the lobby of the inn.

  They walked a few yards then Miss Billie stopped short. Hillary stopped beside her.

  “You know what, we ain’t gonna find no taxi here to take us to the bus station. Let’s go back upstairs and call one.”

  Hillary rolled her eyes. Miss Billie was acting very strangely. First she was in such a rush to leave and now she wanted to go back to the room. She sighed as she followed Miss Billie back to the elevator, unaware that she, too, was being followed.

  Jake and Eliza shadowed them from a distance. Jake was careful to keep his head lowered so that Hillary wouldn’t recognize him. Eliza wouldn’t cause any alarm. She was just a harmless-looking woman. The elevator arrived and Miss Billie and Hillary entered.

  “Hold it, ple
ase,” Eliza called out to them.

  Hillary pressed the “door open” button and waited for them to enter. She didn’t look up at them but did notice that the man stepped on Miss Billie’s thick phlegm on his way in. She kept her head just as lowered as Jake’s was. Being recognized as the monster she acknowledged being always plagued the back of her mind, even though the world believed that she was dead. She didn’t want to take any chances.

  Miss Billie had already pressed the “2” button for the second floor. When the elevator doors opened, they all exited. Eliza could feel the tension rising. Her heart raced as she and Jake followed Hillary and Miss Billie down the corridor. They turned when the pair in front of them did. Miss Billie became suspicious. She stopped, allowing them to pass by. There were only six doors within the short hall. Eliza took the lead as she stopped in front of room 214—the door directly opposite the room Hillary and Miss Billie had occupied.

  “Is this our room, honey?” Eliza said to Jake.

  “Yes, darling...you get lost so easily.”

  While Eliza pretended to be rummaging through her purse for the room key, Miss Billie swiped her card and the opened the door. She entered first, with Hillary lagging behind her. She was thinking about how familiar the man’s voice sounded. She cocked her head back to get a glimpse of the man. He flung himself at her, shoving her into the room violently. Eliza entered the room behind them and closed the door.

  “What’s goin’ on here?” Miss Billie said. “You the cops?”

  But as Hillary jumped to her feet and took a good look at the man who had just assaulted her, she knew exactly who it was. There they were…two ghosts, together again.

  “No,” she whispered, “you’re dead....”

  “No, you only thought I was dead after you tortured me.”

  Horrific memories flooded Jake’s mind as he grew pale and his eyes widened in terror. Reliving the nightmare all over again, Jake could almost feel the scorching hot pain between his legs.

  “No!” He shouted and grabbed the gun within Eliza’s waistband before she could react.

  “No, Jake,” Eliza begged, “hand me the gun.”

  Jake stepped away from Eliza, keeping the gun aimed directly at Hillary.

  “You,” he called to Miss Billie. “Get over here where I can see you.”

  Miss Billie complied and joined them by the front door. She stood beside Hillary.

  “I...I didn’t mean to do those things,” Hillary said tearfully. “I wasn’t myself.”

  “You’re a monster!” Jake spat venomously as he pictured her uncoiling Monica Morrison’s intestines.

  “No, no...she a good girl now, the demon done left her alone.”

  Jake started laughing hysterically.

  “Demon? She’s the demon,” he screamed angrily. “Do you even know who she is? What, did she brainwash you? Lie to you? That psychopath is Hillary Greyson.”

  Jake said her name slowly for emphasis. Hillary looked ruefully at Miss Billie, anticipating the hurt and disappointment in the woman’s eyes. The woman didn’t flinch.

  “I already know that. I known it fo’ a long time now....”

  “You knew?” Hillary asked in awe.

  “Yes, child,” she said then looked at Jake. “Now I don’t know who you are, mista, but ya needs ta put down that gun and get on outta here. You dunno what’s goin’ on here. You in big danger bein’ here.”

  “No...no I’m not. She’s never going to hurt me again. She’s never going to hurt anyone again.”

  “It ain’t she you have to worry about,” the woman hissed.

  With the gun still pointed at Hillary, Jake turned his head to face the woman whose voice had just sent shivers up his spine. She had the same manic look in her eyes that Hillary had always gotten during her psychotic episodes. Jake began to tremble as gruesome details of all the things he had witnessed on that dark day resurfaced.

  Seeing Jake in a daze, Eliza made her move. She reached out to grab the gun. In his mind, Hillary was reaching out to inflict further pain. He squeezed the trigger as he jumped in fear. The bullet entered Hillary’s abdomen and sent the young girl flying to the wall behind her. Jake dropped the gun and backed up until he hit the door.

  Yeeessssssss, Miss Billie heard...a raspy, eerie whisper. She frowned.

  “NOOOO!” She screamed as she ran to the girl’s side.

  Hillary looked into Miss Billie’s tearful eyes. It amazed her how this woman could stir feelings within her that she’d thought were no longer possible. She knew that she was dying and she was totally afraid. She thought about her short life. Things could have been different...so very different. She wondered if she would meet her father in hell. Would he resume raping her in hell? Would he be waiting for her, to start the abuse all over again, this time perpetually?

  “I’m afraid,” she cried out in anguish.

  “Oh, child,” Miss Billie cried, as she fought off unwelcome feelings of anger and rage. “Don’t be afraid, it’s okay...it’s okay now....”

  “Hold on,” Eliza said, “help is on the way.”

  She had already called 9-1-1 to request assistance.

  Jake was now sitting on the floor across from Hillary, his back to the door, his face streaked with tears. He stared at the innocent-looking girl he had inadvertently shot. He had every intention of killing her, but now that he had accidentally accomplished his task, he felt cold and empty. He had thought that losing his genitals stripped him of his manhood. But somehow he felt even less of a man now.

  Miss Billie held Hillary’s hand as the girl began to shiver. Her stomach no longer burned. She felt colder. She could feel her body shaking. Hillary tried to focus her gaze on the Miss Billie’s face, but her vision began to blur. Miss Billie was fading by the second. Hillary was terrified that she would soon be all alone in the dark abyss.

  Suddenly, she was in her mother’s arms.

  “I’m so sorry, Hilly Bee,” her mother whispered in her ear.

  Hillary peered into her mother’s bright hazel eyes. Within them she saw compassion and caring and kindness and even love. It was everything she had been denied during the last couple years of her life. It was everything she needed most now at the moment of her death.

  “Mommy,” she whispered, a thin smile forming on her face.

  It was barely audible, but Miss Billie understood. She tightened her grip on Hillary’s hand as the girl took her final breath. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought she heard that threatening snarl, followed by laughter. She buried her head within Hillary’s chest and cried, not knowing if she was crying for the poor dead girl or the poor dying woman.

  Eliza was likewise hysterical. She blamed herself completely and cursed herself for ever suggesting that she and Jake team up together in pursuit of Hillary. Sure, he may have gone off on his own and he would probably have even found her, but at least it wouldn’t have been her own gun that was used to end the girl’s life.

  Life for Eliza was one baneful regret after the next...a string of endless disappointments and torturous memories. This was the latest on the mile-high pile. This would be the last. She had reached the end of the line. When you feel like you’re already dead, what else do you have to lose?

  She wiped the tears from her face and pictured her beautiful daughter, Jenny, the way she had been on that fateful day, all excited and eager for school to begin. Then she placed the barrel of the gun into her mouth as she recalled the last moment she had seen her daughter, sitting alone and afraid on that accursed school bus.

  She had just told her daughter that she was going to have a wonderful day. She had no idea how monumentally untrue her words were.

  Jenny had nodded sadly. For years, Eliza had been haunted by that grim expression on her daughter’s face as she attempted to be brave.

  “I love you sweetheart,” she had said as she gave her daughter one last hug...the final hug. “See you soon,” she remembered saying as she forced herself to be brave and pried h
erself away from the tearful child.

  See you soon, Eliza thought, then pulled the trigger.

  The pain had finally ended.

  Miss Billie had been staring numbly at Eliza, knowing what she intended to do. She felt as if she were entirely removed from the situation, as if she was just watching a horror movie and could shut it off at any given moment. She jumped when she heard the shot from the gun and grimaced upon seeing all the blood and cerebral pulp that had been blown out of the back of Eliza’s head.

  Yeeesesssss, oh yessssssss, the gravelly voiced squealed.

  “Did ya hear something?” Miss Billie asked Jake. But though his body was a mere six feet away from her, he was long, long gone.

  ~EPILOGUE~

  Eight Months Later

  “Evil looks fo’ that vulnerable soul, that sad, bitter heart and attaches to it like a leech, suckin’ out every bit o’ hope and filling it with even greater despair. Then when it’s full to brimming, evil whispers, ‘ya needs help unloadin’ those woes?’ And it sound like a good idea too, shedding all that pain. But evil asks a hefty price. Evil will wrap its dirty claws right ‘round yo’ heart and squeeze ‘til ya can’t breathe,” Miss Billie said gravely.

  The young African American boy who had been listening to Miss Billie nodded.

  “So you serious, Miss Billie? You really met Hillary Greyson, the killer?”

  “That’s what I’s tryin’ ta tell ya, child. Ain’t the girl who done kill all them people. Was the devil inside her did them things.”

  “So a devil possessed her and made her kill her family and all those people?”