+ Bleed Like Me ; Who You Sellin For? +
Jul 11, 2020 23:00:40 GMT -5
Blair Buchannan-Stylez and jaysonviolence like this
Post by codeapathy on Jul 11, 2020 23:00:40 GMT -5
Never were we told
We'd be bought and sold
When we were innocent
- Fuel - Innocent
- Fuel - Innocent
++Over the past 10+ years, I spent far too much time in cemeteries and memorial gardens. It seemed every month or so, another girl. 95% of the time there was a man behind it too. I wasn’t two years into my own career when I buried my first. She was my fucking mentor. She was supposed to be the strong one, the one to protect us fresh meat from ending up like she did. It’s burned into my memory banks. It has to be. If I forget, then I have no business in the ring. She never made it to the show. I had a sinking feeling. I went out and did my valet shtick, sold the T&A like the good little organ grinding monkey that I was, and once I got in the back I checked out. We had known for awhile that her man had gotten her on heroin. We also knew the repulsive shit he would do to her after he got he laced up good a tight. Videos and pictures. His bargaining chip. I think I knew when the manager opened her hotel room door. I think I already knew she was dead. He stood at the door frame as I went in, with a flash light, looking for her. I knew I wasn’t looking for her, just the broken husk of a corpse that was left behind when her withered spirit left this god forsaken earth. I just wasn’t prepared for WHAT I found. You hear about celebrities dying all the time. Sometimes, if you are a gore-hound like I used to be, you would find the death scene photos or the autopsy. Pictures and scans of a COD never prepare you for the actual thing. Not at 19. I knew that suicide was a possibility. Nobody would have blamed her. Why do they always do it in the bathroom? What is it about women and bathrooms, with straight razors and water? I flicked on the bathroom light and let out a sharp exhale of shock and grief. She was naked. I heard the manager making his way to the bathroom and stood in the door to give her some dignity. The saddest part wasn’t this wasn’t his first suicide. He understood and was very respectful about the situation. Handled everything quietly from the privacy of the room. One arm was limp, laying out of the tub. She had slit her wrist deep. The blood was pooled into the cracks of the tile. Her head laid back and sideways. Rigamortis had already begun to set in. Her other arm was sunk into the tub. She had hit an artery as blood had sprayed on the tile walls. She left no note, but I could see the amount of drugs and opioids she had taken. She felt nothing when she left this mortal coil. Her mama had been waiting for “that call” for a while. Out of an entire company I could count on one hand how many attended her funeral. All her achievements, her belts, her wins, didn’t matter one fucking iota when she died. She was erased by the annals of history, and rich, white straight men who looked at each and every one of us as disposable, replaceable, and beneath them. I sat down beside a modest headstone, the name obscured for now. No flowers on or near it. The grass around it dead and wilted. No trinkets. No one to visit. Just me. One more name forgotten by the business, only they had a woman to thank for their demise. The July heat had dissipated as late evening dawned. A six pack sat at my feet. I cracked the first one open on the headstone and laughed to myself++
Apathy: I don’t know you Anicka, but I know your story. It isn’t a unique one I’m afraid to say. Your story, your motives, YOU as a whole is not something new to me. This business is sometimes like a broken record, it repeats itself. I don’t know where you came from, where you’ve been. I don’t know what you have accomplished in this business outside of that shiny trinket you wear around your waist currently. The truth is Anicka, you don’t care what I think or what I have to say. Even more honesty? I don’t care where you’re from, what your whole story is. What matters to me now, is the present. I don’t care who you have a history with. I don’t care who you’ve fucked. The fact is by now Johnny is curling his lips up like the god damn Grinch at the thought that he gets to see you go one on one with me and he is already filling your head and ears with sweet notions of dominance. I can hear his guarantees now. “You won’t regret this!”. He and X, Blair and the rest of his sideshow circus of a fucking stable are building you up. I can hear Blair now, “What happened was a fluke! You can finish her!”.
“And you are going to buy into it all because Johnny played you the same way he does so many others. He found your weakness, your Achilles heel and he went for the kill. Vanity and pride did you in Ani. I can’t sit here and fault you for it because I, myself, made the same mistakes. When you are riding as high as you are right now, you don’t want to let it slip away. The fact is Johnny didn’t give me this opportunity because he felt I earned it, he did it because he wants to make a fool out of me, for his own amusement. I had the audacity to cut my own strings and I know I am going to pay for it. Of course in the scheme of things I am a mere side attraction, you are his big show. A priceless new marionette that he turned straight into a bargaining chip. Oh yes, I know you have a history with him. Johnny has had his hand in a lot of cookie jars over the course of his career. I got time reserved just for Johnny, but right now sweetheart I want to talk about you. Or at least my experience with women like you.”
++Her name was Maria. We buried her in a small private ceremony. Found out that she was Jewish. She was her mother’s only child. Her father had died when she was very young. Her mother died of a literal broken heart two months later. She had nothing left to live for. Maria's old man, the one who drove her to end it like that was a top star. Untouchable. All the clout in the world, all the bookers and friends in high places, couldn’t save him though. He died the way he deserved too. In a dark alley, alone, bleeding out all over the concrete, while rats chewed on his body. Turned out old Adam had a thing for teenage boys. He had so many stab wounds that they found rats IN his body. It was a fitting end. I sat and ran my fingers through my hair. It was still muggy and the material of the tank top was sticking to my skin. As I set the alcohol down on the edge of the stone, I pulled my dark hair back into a bun and brushed my bangs from my eyes. Ani was just a new name with a story I had heard and saw play out so many times before. High risk. No sense of self-preservation. Hedonistic. For me to object or question her behavior was out of bounds because I walked that same thin line. I was walking it now++
Apathy: I could sit here and say that your decision baffles me but the fact is Anicka. It doesn’t. I’ve been there. I know what temptations and offerings come when you are the top. When you are at the very peak of the mountain and everyone beneath you looks like piss ants. It’s intoxicating. The high you feel when all eyes are on you and the people who USED to look at you like dogshit now look at you like they go to bed at night praying to GOD they could be you. It’s funny how fucking fast a persons attitude changes when you go from crazy psycho whore to Queen of the mother fucking castle. It is an unmatched power. Because as long as that holy strap stays around your waist, you are free to play God with other’s careers. You call the shots. YOu decide who is worthy and who is not. In the ending of one fucking match, today's champion becomes tomorrows old news. You betrayed your kin and people, pissed away all the time and effort Ms. VooDoo put into you, and you sold your skin and blackened soul to Johnny Stylez because he spoke your language. He whispered those sweet words you needed to hear, painted a pretty picture about domination and staying at the top. You sold out. The truth is when you are that high up in the atmosphere what is a little betrayal and devil dealing to stay there?
“I don’t question your decision because I know Johnny. I also know that you are no less at risk now than you were before. Even more so now. You are still one phone call away from becoming the next tragedy and if you think Johnny Stylez won’t replace your corpse faster than the Wolf-pack can claim the body, oh honey, you’re in for a rude awakening. Your value is about rich as long as you hold onto that precious title and Johnny hates being made a fool of so he will go to any lengths to keep it on you. No matter who stands opposed. You don’t know me, we have no history but much like you and the woman you betrayed, I’ve been bleeding on this stage for a long goddamn time. I see your face but with tens of different names, buried in potters fields like this all over the goddamn country. I’ve buried your kind, found you face down in your own fucking vomit, cold and dead. I’ve watched you blow your brains out in front of me because you shot to stardom fast and you fell even fucking faster and couldn’t handle being “over”. I have seen it all repeated, again and again and I know it by heart because SO WAS I.”
“I was the whore. The happy home wrecker. I was the call everyone was waiting on. I was you. I stood on the top of that fucking mountain, pissed on everyone beneath me and then took a swan dive into the precipice beneath just for the fucking fun of it. I sold my soul six times over because I liked the way it felt when I could look down on every goddamn naysayer, critic and asshole who said “You don’t belong”. You know the song and dance honey. We all do. It is the ONE thing that binds us all no matter how much we roll our eyes at one another or shit talk one another. We have ALL been told at least once in our career to go make a fucking sandwich and when we finally broke that beautiful glass ceiling, did the unthinkable, the tunes changed along with the song and dance. We ALL came into this business on a low point we were fucking bought and sold like cattle and nobody warned us. These days though...it seems some of us have become comfortable with being bought and sold. Traded like gorean whores. The shoe fits honey, so just lace it up and put it on. This is where our similarities begin to part.”
++Men. We love em, we fuck em, we ditch em, we bury em but at the end of the day, there is always one or two hanging around to weigh you down. I knew what Johnny and X were doing. She was letting it happen. That was her fool decision. She no more needed Johnny to protect her position in the company and the division than Blair needed his dirty, laundered money. Everything she is, from this point forward, is owed to Johnny. How weak willed and minded does a woman have to be to shit all over her own hard work and effort, for some con man with tacky blue hair? As I killed the bottle I busted it over the headstone, casually. I wasn’t here to pay respects. There wasn’t a body six feet beneath me deserving of respect or fond memories. A bit of the glass ricocheted and cut my forearm. As the bit of blood beaded up I held out both arms. Scars. Scar tissue. Reminders of falling from grace++
Apathy: Whoever said scars heal with time was a fucking liar. Tell me Ani, how many of these do you have on you? Would you like to see the scars on my neck from a husband that was way too into coke and mad with power from being a world champion? He tried to kill me because he thought I was looking at him sideways. “I made you bitch, I can break you”. Except I made him. He was a nobody until my pussy elevated him to a higher status and kept him there. How about the cigarette burns on my thigh from an over hyped tranny fucker that liked to get his prostate massaged and his bleached asshole finger fucked like a plumber unclogging a nasty fucking toilet disaster after Chipolte and Tequila? I humored his pathetic existence and what I got in return was burned, shoved down on the carpet like a bitch and told that I was BENEATH HIM! I got marks on my body from men that are no different than or better then your X and Johnny. And don’t sit there and fucking say you haven’t had a man do a complete 180 on you when he got jealous of you, or your career. Don’t say you haven’t had a man go from beers at the bar to roofies, blacking out and wondering why you ASSHOLE is sore the next morning and why your panties are ripped. You’re a fucking tramp, just like I am. I make no bones about it. I was sucking and fucking Sam Laramie Jr. on his dime, while he was fucking and sucking Blair, Johnny's wife. I never pegged Johnny as a cuck but I guess in his old age he learned a newfound respect for other men dicking his wife's honey pot. Tell me Ani, if staying on top means hitting your knees and tracing Blair’s lipstick ring around Johnny's prick, while X sits and watches, are you willing? If being TOP BITCH means letting Blair dry rock your ass while Johnny jerks it, are you willing? I ask because you WILL get fucked. Figuratively, literally, both? You WILL get fucked. They will make you their whore. They WILL use your achievements to bolster themselves and that is why I have a big red fucking target on my own back. Because I decided I was through being everyone else's bitch.
“The difference between you and me Ani? Johnny never could find the right words to woo me. Sure enough when I did the UNTHINKABLE and beat him for his precious belt...he bounced harder than a single moms check at Walmart's. I wasn’t a champion for TWO HOURS that he was out and gone. He left me so god damn fast, drop me so god damn hard that I’m still looking for the wig he snatched on his way out the fucking door. You are a commodity to him Ani. You’re a fucking business arrangement. He couldn’t bring the Wolves to heel on his own so he had to do them dirty. You. Johnny has to win at all costs. Don’t you Johnny? I owe Candice a “thank you” for getting involved. You knew Blair couldn’t get the job done. You didn’t care how weak and incapable she looked, you marched your ass to the ring anyways and got involved. As long as I looked weak and went into this week with zero thunder, you would be happy. The Blair Buchanan I knew detested that shit. Isn’t it cute? You are her crutch. When she can’t back the shit up her mouth spits, you have to rescue her. Tell me Johnny how many karats did you have to drop on her to make it up to her? God knows whatever you bribed her with to make up for trying to “save” her, we will all have to hear about. Is that the backup plan this week? Ani starts looking like she’s gonna lose and you get her a DQ so she retains? I mean you just went to great lengths to pull a coup and bring her into the fold, if she lost now you would look like a fucking IDIOT. Not that having her retain on a DQ makes her look any less weak. Of course I am forgetting the new equalizer. Leave it to another woman to have to clean up yours and Rogers fucking messes. I guess that kind of throws a wrench into your plans doesn’t it? The days of you dicking anyone and everyone who is not in your Syndicate is over. Not that I myself can breathe any easier after my announcement last week…”
++Laramie Jr. didn’t take kindly to my public denouncing him and the plan we had. My candid confessions didn’t just make me a target for Blair and Johnny, but Laramie Jr. wanted my head on a pike. With one fell swoop I burned a lot of bridges. None with any regrets. As I opened another bottle, watching the bottle cap go flying the lights began to come on. Nobody cared about this shitty little bone yard anymore. The stiff beneath my fat ass was in good company with sharing their final resting place with the old asylum, the old prison, dozens of unmarked, grown over graves and a multitude of people who nobody remembered. Denizens of their respective bygone eras. Social rejects who died penniless, drunk, homeless, insane or electrocuted. There were thousand of graveyards just like this one all over the country, all over the world. As I said...I spent enough time in them over the course of my career. The last colleague I buried was a guy I fought tooth and nail to prove myself as a legitimate contender. Adjusting to life after the business wasn’t easy for him. He speed balled and OD’d. I rested my head back against the slab of stone and continued drinking. My tank top was soaked in sweat, clinging to my chest. I took my free hand, wiping the beads of sweat from my face and exhaled, exhausted from the heat. Taking notice of a nearby water pump I moved to it, putting my head under it as I pumped the cold spring water out. Chills went down my spine as the water rushed down the back of my head and neck. The coolness especially stung on the surgery scars from my head injury a few years back. My fingers moved to the back, feeling them. A bitter grimace crawled across my face before I pulled my fingers away and sat down under the pump, occasionally drenching myself, both to calm me and to combat the staunch evening air++
Apathy: You want to know something sad Ani? I pity you. I have no reason to hate you, no matter who you are aligned with, because the drama you are involved with, the history you have with these people, is none of my business and quite frankly, I don’t care. You made a decision that hurt people who respected you. You shit all over people who supported you. You shit on your family. In the end? You will be the one who answers for it, not I. Our business, plain and simple, is Johnny set this shindig up, you have the title and he wants to see you knock me down a peg or two. We both actually need this match. You’re looking questionable and weak, thanks to Johnny and your boy toy. I need it because I handed Blair Buchanan her ass and this is make or break for me. I need to prove I can still go with women like you. Eyes are on us both and to be fair, I have a reason to want to beat you. I know that I have been pretty neutral and nonchalant with most of my matches, Blair being an exception, but your decision tainted that strap. Everything Johnny touches is poisoned and wrought with suffering. You and your belt is of no exception. You cheapened it. You cheapened the whole division all because you let your pride and egoism get in the way. Battle lines are clearly being drawn in OPW and I drew my own. I’m not a perfect woman. Many of us court the same sins. We’re human after all. You sold out but in your twisted little mind it was what was best for you. In the same aspect I spilled the tea on Laramie Jr. and everything that he was about because I spent too much of my own life cleaning up others messes.
“I don’t want that burden anymore. I am tired of weak, limp dicked men thinking that because I am a strong woman with a mind of my own that I should be interested in trying to help them fix themselves and their life's problems. I am tired of men thinking I have a price tag, or that my pussy comes with a sliding fee. While I pity you...I also detest you. Is the dick that good Ani? Do you see Jesus when he makes you cum? Do you hear choirs of angels when he hits it just right? Because let me be frank cupcake unless that dick makes you have an out of body religious experience, have you speaking in a dead fucking language as you climax then the dick isn’t worth it. It isn’t worth your integrity or your legitimacy. I don’t wish the type of downfall that’s headed your way on anyone but to say that after what you did, you haven’t earned it? Is a lie. I hope you never become THAT phone call. I hope nobody ever has to carry your fucking casket and bury you knowing that before you died, people who are your LESSERS raped you of everything good and amazing and left you a fucking empty husk. I HOPE in a year, two years, after Johnny has pumped you full of lies, pretty promises and poison, that you aren’t the next woman whose funeral I am attending out of respect.”
“You are just as much of a fool as Blair is. You both traded away anything and everything that was good and decent about you, for his empire of dirt. I speak from a very harsh experience and if that doesn’t mean something then YOU’RE the one who needs to be knocked down a peg or two. VERY few women Johnny fucks over in this business, STAY in this business and trust me it burns his toasted white bread ass that I am STILL in it and I am STILL killing it. He LOVES the money I make him but he fucking HATES signing those pay checks because for all the mad props Johnny talks, I was nothing more than a fucking sociology project for him. I was never his equal. I was always BENEATH him. I was something to amuse himself with. And I admit it, I stayed. When everything he built up was knocked down and I got my memory back, I stayed. The woman I was THEN is the woman you are NOW. Feeble, manipulated, insecure and unstable. Bitch I can read you cover to cover because I wrote the fucking book. We ALL wrote a page in that fucking book! YOU included! On this stage we are equals and you have what I want. You don’t DESERVE it anymore. You’re tainted and you cannot possibly do that strap justice when you have to use Johnny, Blair and X as a prop to keep you feeling confident.”
“At least I had the balls to loudly and proudly walk away from that fucking firestorm you got yourself into. I don’t need Blair’s friendship and I never fucking wanted it. She only became a WORSE version of herself after all these years. I didn’t want or fucking NEED Johnny Stylez arsenic laced honey dripping in my ear. There ain’t an ounce of man in him, there never was. He’s full of bullshit, hot air and a false bravado that he jerks off too in the mirror because Johnny only loves one thing, HIMSELF! I look at the rest of the people he has seduced into the SYNdicate and honestly, it’s fucking sad. I know the empires he USED to build and who they involved. I was a part of it once. I look at what he has now and it doesn't even come close to HALF of the people he USED To run with. You are all discount, bargain store knockoffs of HASBEENS! He needs you and your belt to remain RELEVANT in his own company. Don’t even get me started on Roger. He put you on a fucking pedestal. You were his GODDESS and you turned around, spread your ass and shit all over him for JOHNNY! You would have been far kinder to just leave him for another woman. He could recover from that but this?!”
“Oh I know, “but what about what you did to Eoin?”. What about it? I have no time for pansy asses, for pussies. I don’t want a puppy dog following me around. I am done with fuck boys. And I sure as hell am not going to let myself be used to further some pecker-heads agenda where I am expected to ride off on a yacht into the sunset. FUCK his yacht, I got my own and just like my spiritual dick, it’s bigger than his. Eoin has potential but he needs to make up his own mind, is he sheep or man? Does he make his own destiny? Build his own life? Take control of his own career? Or does he learn to like it on his knees and take dick slaps to the mouth saying “yes sir, I like it sir, more sir”. What I did to Eoin was a test. But I will tell you something, he at least did something neither Laramie OR Johnny ever could. Make me cum. Not a man since my dead husband had me screaming in French and begging Daddy for more. I can guarantee you have never had it that good and you never will because your head is fucked and while you can’t help that honey and I feel you cause I know that fucking problem, YOU keep falling prey to fuckboys and narcissists and while your vag is now slumming it with white and euro trash, Kings and Queens of the trailer park, my vagina and the respect I have for it AND myself have brought me to YOUR supposed level. You want to play house with Real Metheads of Louisiana? You do you crazy girl, but step aside so a legitimate champion can take your place. I’ll keep it warm for you. Get you some Prozac some Valium, fix your fucking situation before the next one in a bed in a coma is YOU and your fellow Wolves have to watch while YOU wake up with a new name and a new personality and Johnny is parading you around like some got damn China doll.”
++I exhaled, letting it all go. I didn’t know VooDoo well, but I recognized her situation. I felt for it. While I buried my sisters and brothers, she had to sit back and watch hers be manipulated. Both were awful, unenviable situations. The sky was black. Night had fully fallen. I gathered myself up from the water pump and went to gather my things. There would be no more business tonight. As I reached the stone, I realized the beer was missing and I heard a top pop off just a few steps away from the grave++
“Awful kind of you to bring me a drink lass….now me thinks you have some fuckin explaining to do….”
-The girl owed me more than a drink of hard scotch, she owed me more than that. She walked away from a fight, to in her eyes was all a ploy, from Stylez. She helped me with my family matter but she damn well deserved to tell me more. What is my role in this, why drag me across the country to meet her here? All here to this graveyard-
Elizabeth: I was just about to leave. Figured you were going to pass on coming here. I wouldn’t blame you. I walked out on you. I ignored your texts and calls. Then I ask you to come here to this wretched place to meet. I do owe you an explanation and I have one…..
Eoin: “Bloody right you do, bird. You don’t call, you don’t write, shit the only thing you’ve done is give me a bottle o’ scotch to come to this valley of death. Is this some sort of “kiss an’ make up” type o shit here Liz? Cause I’ll tell yeah, you owe me some words lass.
Elizabeth: Humor me, just awhile longer. When I first approached you and offered my deal, you could have very easily told me to fuck off and went and ran to Johnny and told him something was shady. You didn’t. You humored me and my inappropriate offer. When the deal was done, I gave you an out to get the info about your old man, write me off and go work for Johnny scott free. Instead you met with me again. Multiple times in fact. You weren’t even phased when I told you about Laramie Jr. Answer me, honestly, why you didn’t call me a cunt and go run to him?
Eoin: “Why?”
-Eoin swung the bottle side to side before tossing it over to the far side and the scotch bottle breaks on a gravestone-
Eoin: “For one, in my family, when a pact is made, it never ends unless a party breaks their end. Doing so, is very dishonorable and punishable by a hell raise that only few wish to encounter. If I were to break the pact, I’d confine myself to a punishment of damnation. That is why I have never broken such things. For two, Johnny Stylez isn’t my way out. He provided me with income, currency, life security. But the thing he never gave me was an opening to begin my life. I see right the fuck through him, he saw me as muscle and only intended to use me as such. I’m more than a big Irish lad, my life has been under that of shadow. An’ you? You promised me a way to remove that shadow. But to be frank, you haven’t been… the most reliable when it comes to holding your end of the bargain.
Elizabeth: It’s an honest answer but it doesn’t answer why you kept coming back for more. Why you let me continue to compromise you. Maybe I need to be less vague and more clear. Was fucking me part of this pact of yours, or is there something you need to be telling me? I NEED to know, full disclosure, of where you stand and what is making you tick. I have the last bit of info about your old man. My contact in Ireland came through. Wasn’t cheap but price is of no object when it comes to settling a matter of honor. What I need to know is where do YOU Stand. What do YOU want? Do you want a life you can call your own? You go through with this and your bonds will be broken. Your burden gone. Freedom. Do you want a career that you can call your own? A life you can be proud of? Become a man that doesn’t take odd merc jobs and doing rich peoples dirty laundry by spying on cheating spouses and thieving house maids? What I am asking is, do you aim to become the man your fucking father FAILED to be and am I just the bar whore you screw in the back lot after a few rounds?
Eoin “Christ above. You wanna know? Huh? You want to know what makes me comin’ back for you? Lemme tell ya straight to your face.”
-Eoin marched up to Liz staring down at her eye to eye-
Eoin: “I fuckin’ love ya. Yeah, I said it, right there. I love you because unlike everyone else in my fuckin’ life, you’ve done more for me than anyone else. Anyone else in my life hasn’t a candle to what you’ve offered and are ready to provide. Nah, it ain’t just the sex. No, it is the fact you’ve offered me the freedom to break my monotony in my life and that is already more than what any other person has offered me in my life. Not to mention your own beauty surpasses any one else in this place. I ain’t intimidated by your presence love because you simply don’t scare me. But you do make me wonder from time to time what life would be like, living with the likes of you. An’ truth be told, I already feel like it is better than my current life.
Elizabeth: I swore….
++I took one or two steps back and shook my head++
Elizabeth: I swore when I got the call that Thomas was killed that I was done. He was my last. He couldn’t handle me, so much so he hopped on a plane and probably crashed the fucking thing himself just to get out of it all. I may not scare you nor intimidate you but being associated with me comes with major pitfalls. I have targets on me, zoned in right for the fore head after cutting Laramie Jr. off and turning on Johnny and his slag of a wife. You really want any part of that? Better men than you have tried and they all ended up worse for it. Is that something you really think you can handle? Think about it….
-Eoin took the steps to match Liz’s to be back where he was above her-
Eoin: “I have already thought about it lass. Why do you think, time after time I keep coming back to you? If people want to get to you, ‘gun for your head’ as you say, they’ll have to get through me. Sure they can try, but as I said, you’ve already offered more to me than whatever backlash can ever occur to me. Nothing can ever be worse than the life I live now. I want to start a new life for meself. And it all starts with you.”
Elizabeth: This is crazy. YOU are crazy…..you barely know me. You know me for what I can do in bed, but not ME as a person, do you?
Eoin: “I already know that you want to help me, ain’t that enough to learn more of you as time goes on? Besides, I’ve already said to ya, it ain’t even just the sex lassy.”
++I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. Moving past him I grabbed a torch from my bag and flicked it on++
Elizabeth: The grave….read the stone. What name is on it?
Eoin: “It says ‘Cage.’”
Elizabeth: Right. Then this next part should not be so surprising. I know exactly where your old man is right now. I can confirm he is about to sail out on a troller alone. He’s had a downturn of luck and locals have said they are worried he’s going to “put himself out to sea” if you get my drift. You spoke of pacts, well as you said I haven’t really held up my end of the bargain and that is why I asked you here.
++I knelt down and pulled a red cloth out of the bag, wrapping something. As I stood up slowly, those memories of gunpowder and brain matter came rushing back. It was like a cheap high. I pulled back the layers of red cloth and revealed a gun. A very special and bloody gun++
Elizabeth: This is the gun that killed the worthless piece of shit human being under our feet. It is mine. After the trial when I was found innocent, it was returned. For the past few years one bullet has been in the chamber. I had a purpose for it once but...those urges have passed and the bullet the one was intended for is nothing more now than one more mistake I hopped into bed with. His blood stains this gun….as does mine. I want you to use it…...a token of my upholding my weight of the pact….
-I grabbed the gun without so much of care, and held it firmly. I examined the weapon seeing the blood stains, and observing the chamber to see the lone bullet ready to fire, finding and pulling the safety, while stiff, still functioned fine.-
Eoin: “Well… This lovely weapon will suit me just fine. All I need is one bullet. Thank you.”
-Eoin rested the gun in his deep pocket and nodded to Liz before turning to walk away out of the grave site. He stopped two lanes down and turned back to Liz-
Eoin: “I meant what I said lass when I confessed my love to you. I want a life and you have continued to prove that my life starts with you. Should me dad be where you say he is, I’ll come find you again. Goodnight.”
-Eoin continued on leaving the cemetery-
“You won’t have to look far boyo. I’ll be in Maine before you even get the ticket for the fucking flight….” She mumbled under her breath. “Daddy’s girl never leaves a loose end…..”