What Would Have Been Post #18

What happened the final day:

I went to bed that morning again, woke up a mess. It wasn't the fact that I was tired, or that I looked like Mort Rainy with my hair, or that I was cold because someone was blasting the AC and I happen to sleep in little clothing. I woke up feeling like shit because this was the last day of the threat. My sibling was at their lover's place, which was normal for weekends. My parents were running out for gardening supplies, which was just convenient that I would be home alone on the last day Bad Man Walking had to act. Considered I wasn't strangled in my sleep I thought I was off to a good start. I saw off my parental-s before heading back around the corner of the kitchen to molest the Eggo Waffles box in the freezer. I was envious of the toaster's warmth which made me realize I was freezing in the boxers and tank, with a quick scurry to my room I changed into the usual baggy pjs for lounging about. I came back to the toaster and flipped the waffles before shoving em' back in, because you know, the toaster gets the whole thing. Least, mine doesn't.

The morning itself was amazing, I was tempted to run around the yard like a maniac but refrained. I freak out my neighbors enough (hooray!) I don't need the cops called on me while I'm home alone. With my hair that morning no one would recognize me from my ID. I stalked at the glass doors, thinking about how this house would be doomed with its residents should a zombie apocalypse happen. So many windows, wouldn't even be able to nom food without being seen. I smudged a smiley face into the window at my own height level, curious to see how long it would take to get noticed. It wasn't as if I would get in trouble, the two dumbass dogs press their faces against the lower half of it anyways. There wasn't much left to do but ogle the woods at the back of the property, my favorite tree was near the front, covered in vines. The only tree within the woods (least, in my view) that was covered in green all year long. I used to think it was trapped in time, frozen, never to be altered. Like a statue. Maybe that was something I could find beauty within.

Ding, or whatever sound the toaster makes (I have no idea, usually it scares the shit out of me when it goes off. Ninja). "WAFFLES. NOW." was the only thing on my mind, but they would have to wait. The back door opened, it closed. The little bells on the handle jingled, I grinned. I called out "Whatcha forget?" but did not get an answer. Strange, but then again mum does have selective hearing. I pray none of you encounter this. I headed back around the corner of the kitchen and looked, but what I saw was a shadow at my feet the moment I arrived. I looked to the owner of the said shadow and could only utter one two things, "Oh... Fuck!" I spun on my heels, grabbing the chair next to me and throwing it behind me. The second chair after that followed the same process. A means to slow him down in the start. Mind was racing for what direction to head into, small house + murderous son of a bitch = pain no matter what. I grabbed the handle of the old fashion metal trash can and threw that behind me as well. Anything with some weight was chucked, anything to slow him down. The floorboards quaked, I ran straight ahead to the living room. Around the coffee table, he just kept coming though. I don't know why I thought throwing coasters at him would do something, especially when he just smacked them back at the table. Fucker. He leaped, I dodged, his grip landed on my bad shoulder which felt as if it was going to be torn straight off.

Fucking fuck fuck fuck!

He let go as soon as he crashed into the chair, I bolted, grabbing the dictionary at the computer desk and chucking it at him. It was nearly comedic the thud that occurred behind me. I went to my cave, the dog gate I nearly ripped off the wall. He was already running the moment I turned into my room. Slamming shut the door I pressed against it, his weight hit the other side, it didn't help that he was stronger. That the door opened in MY direction either. I felt as he pounded at the door viciously, like a trapped animal. Except... I was the one that was trapped. The only way out of my room was by breaking the front window, because it was stupidly painted shut and my one good arm couldn't open it. Why I thought that it was a good idea to leave it while Mr. Sunshine was around I don't know, I could really have used an open window right about now. Another slam, I felt a growl vibrating within my throat.

Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight.

I glanced briefly at the window, take it outside. More space, less things to make weapons with, though. My size vs. his would prove a failure. Speed? I could dance around him for a bit, but just a bit. He was the sort of brute that just kept fucking coming and didn't stop. Getting in a tactic would be difficult; luring him to a trap might have been easier.

SLAM!

Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight.

Let out the monster. Let it out. It's been years, years, girl. You conquered it back then, you put it in its place. Never will become what lurks within your mind, you're in control. In control. Take control of the situation and fucking live!

Open the cage.

Opening the cage.

Evolve.

Adapt.

Aspire.

Defend.

Murder him!

My mind roared which ripped loose past my lips. I was on fire again, my insides, my body, this was the closest I would ever become to seeing red.

I felt his weight leave the door and I backed off, pulling into a defensive mode ready to catch whatever he was planning to pitch. It was more than expected as his foot collided against the door, swinging it open and making me stumble off balance. He didn't wait, he leaped again and I saw it. I willed myself to move but was already caught within a fall. One of his hands grabbed my forearm, the other landed flat to my midsection only adding more pressure when my back finally hit the ground. Forcing the air from my lungs. It didn't even feel like I landed on carpet, my head spun even when the weight removed itself. I wheezed, I coughed, I rolled onto my stomach to try and get up but found the lack of oxygen going to the brain troublesome. Everything hurt, my shoulder was on fire, my spine aching and my neck feeling the effects of a fucking broken body. I was wondering why there was no pain further than what I was feeling, and it was apparent when I noticed the damn masked bastard on all fours with a hand to his bleeding head. He hit the heater.

Wait.

He hit the heater!

That was the opening. That was the set-up, was it not? This is why your room was left torn apart, so Mr. Sunshine or anyone else would do more damage to themselves than they would you! I pushed up onto all fours, my hand sliding forward and grabbing the metal step ladder which was folded against my desk. I used it to stand, wobbly, before grabbing the handle and using my body weight to lift the ladder and bring it down upon Bad Man Walking's head. He snarled, I swore, we repeated the process a few times until he was knocked into submission. I didn't stop until he unconscious. Probably even concussed. Fuck it, fuck him, HARD. Let the bastard fall into a coma. I dropped the ladder with a huff and sat on my bed, uttering a million swears as I lowered my head to my knees and tried to let what just happened sink in. My mind was reeling but I had to act, just in case.

I pulled myself together for now and kneeled down beside him, rolling him over onto his back. His mask was broken, nearly about to shatter. I was tempted to poke beneath it, indulge in my curiosity, but I did not. I focused on his pockets, looking for any weapons. All I pulled out was a camera... Which was on, recording, with electrical tape over the lens of it. It took a second but my brain brought forth the answer and I cursed at him some more. I knew this trick! It's so the killer doesn't see the victim, rather, just listens as he kills them off. My hands shook which only hurt my body more when it reached my shoulders, but I ignored the pain. It numbed out as I stared at the taped lens. He was going to murder me. He was going to watch this video again and again, just listening. Just... Listening to me die.

I threw the camera onto the bed before exiting the room, grabbing a knife from the kitchen and returning to the man who was bleeding on my area rug. I kneeled down and pulled from under my bed a box and removed the chains from it. I moved it up here for specifically this reason. An intruder. But I wasn't going to be calling the police, waiting for them to pick up what I found lurking. I smiled, it wasn't friendly, this wasn't the smile I offered to people. It was vicious, determined. "I told you I'd be hanging you in my basement."

He is heavy, I'm just five feet tall, this was just... Ridiculous. Chaining him, once figuring out a good way to rotate him around, was easy enough. Dragging him felt like my house was bigger than it actually was. My room is at the front of the house, my basement is at the back. Cursing some more about how he is a fatass I began my heave. The dogs were barking, I threw them The Look and everything fell silent aside from my huffing and puffing. I had to use my body weight in every way, the old skateboard helped... Barely. It was enough, though. The main battle was getting over the bump at the doorway of the kitchen. Five minutes of pure hell on my messed up spine. Joy of joys. From there it was smooth sailing across the tile to the basement door where I just let him ride down on the skateboard. Pretty much taking half of the shelves with him because the skateboard slipped out from underneath him. Whatever. Fatass. I don't care. He can have more bruises right now, I intend to do more when he awakens and it's interrogation time.

Closing the door I brought him to the back of the basement and used a pulley system (yay school!) to heave him up and let him dangle.

Let him sleep. He'll need it.

I went back upstairs, popped some painkillers, stopped the bleeding, and began my cleaning of the house. Like hell I was going to be blamed for this shit, even if I was the one throwing crap everywhere. I muttered, my mind once again racing. Words left my lips quickly, hands formed their little patterns, I tried to sort out what just happened while rearranging my house back to normal. It took an hour or so, I checked on Bad Man Walking but he was still out. Fine by me. I snatched the waffles from the toaster, now cold, and sat down on the stool near the glass door. My mind was racing with how I was going to explain this all. One long trip through the entire house which ended in me bruised and bloody? I looked to the hand prints bruised into my form. Ha! Right. Ghost attack? Unlikely. One of my characters coming to life from my stories? That one would be more believable with all the hours I spend molding my tales. But still, no. I'd go to the happy hotel, last thing I need is isolation in that sort of place. I sighed.

Blackness.

I woke up later on, nearing the end of the morning. Apparently I had fallen asleep while my mind raced, my forehead was in my palm, the second half eaten waffle smushed into it. Lovely. Peeling it off I nommed down the remaining portion for the energy boost, grabbed my outdoor boots and headed to the basement. Hell, if I'm going to kick the crap out of someone I want some protection.

Only that someone wasn't there anymore.

My mind screamed as I stood frozen momentarily, but then the sound of birds entered my ears. Behind me. The basement door! I bolted outside and grabbed the ax next to the garage. Street? No. Neighbor's? No. Woods? Fuck yes. I took off, figuring he might be raping a tree in his master's name, probably thinking it would heal his wounds. And ego.

Where would he have gone? The fort. Where Mr. Sunshine was scared off from. A bigger predator conquered the territory, the same territory that was my backyard. I stopped, trying to listen for anything. Useless. He was ahead, too far most likely. And what did I have to go on? Vague memories of a childhood that has mostly been lost. I looked at the ax in my hand, it was shaking, not with fear though but with rage. A fury that was burning within. Do not acknowledge. Swallow, devour your own emotion, girl. Crush it beneath your heel. Focus.

I veered right and followed the stream. A marker was up ahead, a hunting poster that I had "tried to make pretty" as a child. I supressed a smirk and ran past it. Follow the signs. Follow them to him. The ax spun twice before I veered left this time, furthering myself from my home. It felt as if the strings that kept me attached to there were being strained, like running further from that place was finally me moving forward. I didn't consider it until now that I locked myself away, not just figuratively. I kept running, screw these strings. I refuse to have my own wings tangled within them. Step by step the lines strained, and finally they just snapped. And there, I could see the fort in all its dismay.

I grabbed the ax with both hands; prepared for an ambush should he be here still. I didn't count on him already waiting. I was mauled from the right and crashed into the camp, my head missing the rocks that made up the old fire pit. I wedged my knee up and into his ribcage, backing him the hell off before pulling my own ass up. Painkillers, fucking useless! I didn't wait for him to come at me, I slipped my foot under a loose rock from the pit and sailed it at him. Dodge it? That's fine; it's a distraction so I can get my ax impaled into your face.

Goddamn your strength. Your ability to catch yourself. Hunter, no. You're an Executioner, aren't you? I fought to keep the ax, using my own body weight to try and pry it from his grasp. No cigar, he tore me off the ground. My back slammed into a tree before I crumbled at the base of it, hacking away again from the force of impact.

My eyes looked up at him from where I was, he had the ax in one hand, the broken masked head tilting to one side. His hand raised in a little wave, a taunt. I tried pulling myself up but my arms trembled, I crashed back down. This wasn't the dream from before. Someone stronger chucked me into a tree, getting up with this body was not going to be easy. Broken body, I could barely feel my left arm when it moved, all there was, was pain. His body weight did all the damage on all his attacks. I missed his fists of fury in the house when he was chasing me, but having my whole body crushed numerously by what felt like a wall of bricks. I briefly wished it was Mr. Sunshine I was dealing with, at least a few more times to get back into the flow of this shit. But then I scowled, no. That would just mean Bad Man Walking would be at someone else's door, murdering another person. And I would not have that. He could fucking rot in hell.

He took a step forward, once, twice... Everything seemed to go into slow motion as my gaze fell past him to something moving from the shadows of trees. It was brief my glimpse of the figure before it just blurred. A force bigger than Bad Man Walking rushed him from behind. I watched as he turned, surprise lacing his body language as the ax swung in defense against what was coming. Useless, utterly useless. His wrist was grabbed within what looked like a painful grasp of steel, a loud crack only enforcing that idea. Bad Man Walking howled briefly before he was spun around, I ducked my head beneath my arms as the ax in his hand being loose now flung into a tree directly next to me. Everything changed in that moment. The area lit with an intensity that was so unreal. I felt numb and yet... I just felt everything. Every bit of me could feel the air as it flowed.

I focused to see the bigger male figure, my heart skipped a beat, it was... My mind reeled through every image in my head to fit the description. It couldn't be--It wasn't-- How the hell was he here?! Subconsciously I found my back against the tree, ignoring the alarms of pain. That mask, that attire, it was the person I have been working my ass off to reach. And here he was, in the flesh, breaking the arm of my predator. Victor.

Bad Man Walking lashed out with his free hand, grabbing at the fabric of Victor's sweatshirt. The only response that was given was the hammer in his other hand being thrust through the air and colliding with Bad Man's head. I tensed at the sound, watching as his knees weakened, but was held up by the bigger man by his broken wrist. He started snarling, swearing, cursing at the superior predator here. Trying to tell him how He would be displeased. Victor did not acknowledge it; he didn't care for the single unmasked eye staring at him with such ferocity.

What could I do? This pressure, it was so intense. Just watching these two, one standing perfectly motionless while holding another up who was bleeding profusely. The hammer raised a fraction again but Bad Man seemed to have lost his motivation. He grinned his thin lips at his superior, knowing there wasn't an exit here. He was going to die. He was going to... Die.

I tried to will myself to get up, I had to do something. I didn't care if he was the enemy, I wasn't going to fucking kill him off the bat. I could try... Try and redeem him. Believe there was something to be done--

But his laughter, a raspy, high pitch cackle full of happiness, of delight. He had his fun. He got to murder people for years upon years without consequence. He had what he wanted all along. What the hell do you give a man who has everything? Nothing, because he doesn't have everything. He still has death.

The hammer fell from Victor's grasp, his hand seized the mad laughter but it continued as squeaks and giggles. Everything seemed to shift, as if it was being drawn towards the duo yards away. The leaves turned into Victor's direction, branches creaking as they bent. I didn't understand, the area felt heavy but I felt light, I realized it was because I was no longer against the tree. I grabbed the handle of the ax and reeled myself to the tree, slipping around it with my trusted friend. I watched from there as this force picked up around them. Victor's body hunched over but he raised his arm higher, keeping Bad Man Walking suspended within the air. The air... It just went to hell. In a snap it all just changed. There was a roar, not from a person's mouth, but it was coming from a person himself. The air, the leaves, the branches, the wood upon the ground all suddenly was dragged towards the two. I squinted as debris flew past me towards them.

And... And Bad Man Walking... He just-- He just screamed and laughed and scream and fucking laughed some goddamn more. It just wouldn't stop... The sound wouldn't shut the fuck up! I grabbed my ears, trying every which way to silence it but it just wouldn't. He wouldn't. I watched as his body was torn apart, piece by piece into this... This unreal but very real portal coming from Victor's own self. From it, from him, tentacles sprang out and wrapped themselves around Bad Man's limbs. His right leg broke apart, I don't even know if he was feeling this so close to that thing. If he felt the pain of his own body, if he was screaming because of it or because of just watching it happen. Sticks impaled themselves on their path to the portal from all sides, leaving Bad Man's one eye to widen. Pain. He was in so much pain-- It was indescribable the feeling of watching Victor consume this monstrous man bit by bit.

He lost his left arm next, the tentacles feeding it to the portal. The angle I was at made it was hard to see much of it, aside from just darkness. The howling of the wind being pulled into this vortex only vibrated through my skull, ears popping painfully despite being covered. Victor's tentacles shifted, his hand fell from Bad Man's neck and to his side, fingers curling and uncurling as his palm continuously flexed. The black lines wrapped themselves around Bad Man's torso and replaced the hand upon his throat. Off went the second leg. The screaming continued, it just wouldn't stop!

I couldn't do anything... I fucking couldn't do anything but watch, but listen as his head was torn from the remaining part of his body and broke apart, vanishing. The scarred face just gone forever. His torso pinched together, as if it were within a corset being pulled to its limits. And then it just broke in half, the organs, bones, tissues, muscles, tendons... It all flooded from his body like a dam letting loose its load. His skin was shredded and all that was left was the right arm that dangled within Victor's grasp. His fingers uncurled from around it, and just like that Bad Man Walking's existence was gone. The world would never know he was ever here. There was nothing left but a pile of bodies that would never be known.

The vortex remained open for a short while after before finally shutting. Finally the screaming had stopped... The pull, the wind, it all lifted. Everything but the intensity. That remained the strongest. I watched as his arm lowered to his size, shoulders hunching over as they raised and fell at a slow pace. Like he was collecting himself through breathing exercises. It wasn't for a few minutes before he shifted, lifting his left boot where the hammer was. Bending down he grasped it before returning to his previous stance. Every movement he willed himself to make was calculated, precise. His hand continued flexing, that was my warning. I used the tree and ax to pull myself up, body completely wrecked. I left my spot behind it to stumble around, using the ax as a poor walking stick.

Crack.

I froze at the sound that came from beneath my own boot. It did not go unnoticed. He turned until I could see the white mask fully, my mind screamed for a strategy, for a plan. It begged me for some sort of idea on how to act. But fuck, I was just assaulted by someone who was fucking smaller than Victor. Who I just witnessed being shredded like Christmas ribbon. What do you say to that? What do you do? I really wish I fucking knew. I let the handle of the ax go and relied on my own remaining strength to keep myself up, to straighten the best I could with my bruised spine. His grasp upon the hammer tightened, and just like Bad Man he took a step forward, then another. Just watching him it hurt, my body begged to just collapse. Everything pleaded to just lay down and let whatever was to happen just happen. I couldn't do it... I couldn't fucking do either of it. Water filled my eyes, blurring him from my vision briefly. Smearing his image, making him look a shadow of flesh. I sniffed, fighting back the pain and just as my vision cleared he became a blur, rushing at me like he did Bad Man, hammer raised.

I realized then this fire of mine wasn't going to save me. I screamed at him, I screamed his name again and again, fists clenched at my sides. I wasn't ready, I wasn't prepared for this, for him. My legs gave out, I fell to my knee and backwards, watching as he kept coming. I skidded back, screaming his name again and again, as many times as it passed through my head. All the pain, all the anger, all the concern; not just for my life but his own, sprang into one scream. He stopped directly before me, the hammer frozen from coming down upon my skull. I stared upwards, looking past the mask to the eyes that could be seen. The eyes were hysteric, wide, crushed, angry. He just stopped before he even started, hunched over me, his shadow engulfing my form. Just looking at him then, no barrier, no screen, no keyboard; it was surreal. I couldn't hear my own breathing, just feel my heart as it thudded away within my ribcage, I worried it would break out for him to see. I could hear him, though, no voice, no words. Just the heavy breathing that fell into place with his heaving upper body. I didn't know what to do, what to say still. You would think after all this time I would have had something prepared. Anything.

But no. Just his name fell off my lips again. Whatever it was within him reversed itself, he pulled back and clenched the hammer, hunching over. The way he moved it looks as if his muscles were contracting, as if he was in severe pain. The more he backed off the more I pushed myself to move forward, to try and get up even if I couldn't fully stand straight. I heard him taking in a deeper breath than before, as if swallowing the pain he was feeling despite how severe it was. Refusing any sound to escape out his mask. He kept moving back, I kept urging him to stop, finally something other than his name. I called to him, I tried to reassure, it was difficult when the images of what just occurred were flashing through my head, but my want to help him became integrated into my instincts, my nature. I reached out, trying to tell him it would be alright, I called his name again and again. He didn't come back, he didn't look back, he fell back into the shadows of the trees and vanished.

It was over.

My predator was dead.

My predator was killed by a bigger predator.

My predator was killed by Victor who devoured Bad Man Walking.

I crashed to the ground, lying in the dirt upon my stomach. I'm only human. Just some human girl with a broken little body. Broken... Little... Body...

He wasn't there to save me. He came and did what he needed to and left. The result, I live a little longer and have a lot more to process later. Later, when I wake up.

I passed out on the woods floor, engulfed by nothing but my own blackness. The whispers of my mind, of everything that just transpired was fading. It reminded me of the hospital bed, of when my breath faded then from my body. It felt welcoming... Maybe I was dying--again. My vision blurred, colors smeared together. Everything was just gone, just fading slowly. Except her. Her voice telling me to get up like it did back then. I could feel the tears spilling over finally; I told her to let me sleep. Just for a little bit. She apologized, without having any reason to as usual. I wanted to smile; I did smile if only by a fraction. Sorry, Smiles. I wish I could have made you happy one last time; I truly hate it when you cry, even more-so when it's for me. I pray you find Joshua, and I pray he will make you happier than I ever could. Where ever you are... I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry I let you down.

I'm gone.

I'm back?

I'm on my back at the end of my property looking at the cloudless sky through the pear tree. I don't understand. I don't know why I am awake, breathing, how this broken body is still moving after being assaulted.

I don't care right now. I'm getting up, I'm going inside, I'm sinking into the bath tub, and I'm popping more painkillers.

I'll think about it later. Right now I just need to stop my hands from fucking shaking.

Stay safe,

-Shady