Post by bennett on May 10, 2022 15:16:31 GMT -5
'H' IS FOR 'HUNTER-KILLER'
~~~~~~~~~~
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The Promised Land Playhouse.
A place of imagination and wonder, where the past can be forgotten.
Billy Bennett sits cross-legged, wearing a contented look as Candi Cain attempts to run a brush through her messy hair.
There’s no hint of her trademark manic energy or frustrated anger.
She’s humming to herself, watching Mr. Wright put on an impromptu puppet show.
He has two puppets, Ratman and Billy. Wright presses their faces together, making kissing noises as he pantomimes a make-out session.
Billy is completely unaware that there’s anything wrong with this whole situation. A strange fog had settled over her mind ever since the most recent Fallout.
At first, it had been a blood-red fury; Billy had been dreaming of getting a shot at Mr. Wright for months. Back then, she would’ve been all too happy to tear his guts out until he explained why he’d singled her out for his mind games.
But now, she couldn’t find that anger in herself, or even fully remember it. Something about this place seemed to keep her placated and forgetful... maybe it was the tea they kept serving her.
When she looked at Wright now, she saw a friend instead of an enemy.
And as for Candi Cain, she seemed more familiar to Billy with every passing minute. Something in her eyes and expression made her seem like an old, half-remembered ghost from Billy’s past.
“Oh, Billy! I’ve never had my tonsils licked clean like that!” says Mr. Wright in a squeaky, oddly-cadenced tone, meant to sound like Ratman.
“Mmm, well... ya smell soooo much nicer than that dirty <BLEEP> Savannah, I couldn’t help myself...” grumbles Wright, mimicking Billy’s gravelly voice as he rubs the right hand of her puppet against the Ratman doll’s crotch.
“Y’know, for a li’l guy, it sure feels like ya got a big ol’ co-”
Wright is interrupted, as a voice booms up through the floorboards, originating in the basement... or deeper.
“WE’RE BACK.”
Wright looks down at the floor and shouts.
“Thanks, old buddy!”
Wright tosses the Ratman and Billy dolls away, moving on from the vulgar scene he was acting out.
“Hi, everyone!” he says, “I was going to say ‘big ol’ compassionate heart’. Ratman has a huuuuuge... heart. Isn’t that right, Billy?”
The previously blank eyes of Billy seem to light up at the mention of her name.
“Oh, sure is, Mr. Wright! Rats is sooooo nice, givin' me a shot at this pretty li'l belt!”
“You mean my pretty little belt, right?” he asks, a menacing tone creeping into his words.
Wright insisted he was just helping Billy shoulder some of the weight by carrying the belt around; to be honest, she was happy to be rid of the burden, even temporarily.
“Sure do! Anyway, you’d be surprised about the scrawny ones; lotta time they’re packin’ some serious h-“
Candi covers Billy’s mouth with one hand, appalled.
“Oh my god, Bill, stop it! You’re making me blush.”
“Please, this show is very popular with seniors, and they don’t appreciate that kind of sinful talk!”
Billy looks ashamed at receiving this talking-to. She’d only been here... well, she couldn’t remember how long, but she was already making mistakes...
She didn’t want to lose these friends, the same way she lost everyone else who’d gotten close to her.
“Awww. Mr. Wright, I think we made her sad!” says Candi, sounding strangely pleased.
“Well, she probably deserves it!” states Wright, matter-of-factly.
“Oh, she definitely does!” replies Candi, between giggles.
Billy turns to glance back at Candi, a wounded expression on her face. The woman simply smiles, before leaning forward to whisper hatefully.
There is the hint of an accent she didn’t have previously.
“I ain’t forget what ya did to me, Bill...”
Bennett finds herself unable to respond, or even move.
Thinking seemed like too much effort.
Better to just accept things, and enjoy her new place here.
It felt like she belonged in the Playhouse; she didn’t want to screw it up by asking questions.
As Billy turns back to Wright, the host is wrapping things up.
“-teach us how to get rid of testifying witnesses, or the proper way to rob a bank with minimal casualties! Wouldn’t that be swell?!”
A pre-recorded cheer echoes throughout the Playhouse, as Wright smiles at the camera, waving goodbye while the closing theme plays.
Candi’s menacing air has disappeared, returning to the insurmountable task of combing Billy’s hair... though she is being a bit rougher than necessary.
“Golly, when was the last time you combed this? It’s more tangled than a kid trapped in a spool of barbed wire!”
“Oh... I try to run my hand through it a few times every day, but sometimes I forget...”
As the show goes off-air, Mr. Wright speaks with his back turned to Bennett.
“Billy... you’ve got a lot of work to do. Me and your s- erm, me and Candi think you should get to it. You wouldn’t want to upset me, would you?”
Suddenly, Billy feels a sense of dread. Wright’s words remind her of her father’s veiled threats from childhood, but these seem to carry even more weight.
The lights in the room dim as the shadows lengthen, taking on a more menacing appearance.
“No, of course not...” she says, sounding unsure if this is the correct response.
Upsetting him is the last thing she wants; her instincts - or what are left of them in her current state - tell her that it would be a mistake.
Without warning, Candi places a rag firmly over Billy’s mouth and nose, holding it tight against the skin. She only has a few seconds to notice a chemical smell, before she feels herself slipping away.
Billy doesn’t struggle.
She accepts it.
Whatever her new friends do to her, she’s sure it’s what she deserves.
If only she could remember why.
~~~~~~~~~~
MAY 10th, 2022
PHILADELPHIA, PA
When Billy’s eyes open, she sees nothing but darkness.
For a few glorious moments, she assumes she’s dead. That her time in the Playhouse was just the hallucinations of a dying brain, and now she’s free.
Rid of the never-ending suffering that had been the hallmark of her existence.
Finally untethered from this mortal coil, her spirit floating through the endless void.
No more memories, no more responsibilities, no more stress, anxiety or depression, no more uncontrollable rage, no more bloody fantasies driving her to carry out unspeakable acts.
And then it hits her.
The smell.
Rotting food and moist cardboard.
Billy sits up, the top of her head hitting metal with a loud *CLANG*.
Snapped back to reality by the impact, a sudden rush of panic tears through her mind.
Where was she? What had happened to her?
She opens the lid and crawls out of the confines of the metal box... it’s only when she pulls herself over the edge and comes crashing down onto asphalt below that she realizes what she’d woken up in.
A dumpster.
In an alley.
Behind a Wawa’s.
Philadelphia, the most cursed place to find oneself after a lengthy black-out. Or at all, really.
As she crashes down to the ground, two items come falling out of her jacket.
An audiocassette recorder...
...and a small, folded-up square of paper.
She grabs the latter first, unfolding it to reveal a message scrawled on one side in pink ink:
MAY 15th, 8PM EST
2300 ARENA
2300 S SWANSON RD
REMEMBER, BILLY: ‘H’ IS FOR ‘HUNTER-KILLER’
The date, time, location and address of the Emergence PPV, and a cheerful reminder of what she’s supposed to do to Mark Hunter.
Shaking her head as if to clear out the cobwebs from her heavily-sedated ‘sleep’, Billy turns the square over to reveal another message on the back.
P.S. LOVE YA, SIS!
SHOW THAT SMUG MOTHER<BLEEP>
-YOURS FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER,
CANDI
“...why’s she always callin’ me ‘sis’...” mumbles Billy, rubbing her eyes. She’s about to toss the paper away, before noticing that it can be unfolded even further.
She does precisely that, revealing a third message, scrawled in what appears to be blood.
P.P.S.
DON’T FORGET WHAT YOU DID TO ME
Those words bring a fresh wave of anxiety to Billy’s bewildered mind. Fortunately, she is distracted from a full-blown panic attack when her eyes fall on the audiocassette recorder.
Like Mr. Wright said, she has a job to do.
Better get to it, before she disappoints another person in her life.
Reaching out to grab the recorder, she presses the ‘REC’ button, ready to speak.
The button pops back up, to Billy’s visible surprise; it’s already at the end of the tape. Furrowing her brow, Billy rewinds a bit, before hitting ‘PLAY’.
She hears her own voice, as she holds the recorder in one trembling hand.
----------
“I ain’t really been myself lately...”
“Can’t rightly say what I’ll do to ya in that ring, Mark. I just... don’t know what’s gonna happen...”
“All I know is we get thirty minutes together, and nothin’ is gonna come between me and some quality time with ya. Don’t worry, I’ll do my best to make sure I don’t knock ya out cold.”
“Don’t want nothin’ endin’ our fun early... too fuckin’ frustratin’ to be that close to finishin’, only to be robbed of the climax.”
“Ya may not believe me, but I didn’t come out that night lookin’ to beef with ya.”
“After the show ya put on with the apex predator himself, I wanted to congratulate ya. Showin’ the world ya still got it must’ve felt good, right?”
“Planned on askin’ ya nicely for a friendly match at Emergence, that’s all. No hard feelings, no blood feud, no desire to do nothin’ too rough to ya.”
“But ya just had to push my buttons, didn’t ya?”
“Y’see, I don’t mind bein’ called a disgrace. Can’t get mad at the truth.”
“Ya didn’t have to mention Savannah, though. She ain’t got nothin’ to do with this, and if I never hear that whore’s name again it’ll be too soon.”
“Sure do know how to get a rise outta people, don’tcha?”
“Why would ya wanna provoke me, after everythin’ you’ve seen me do?”
“Ya made it personal.”
“Didn’t have to do that. Shouldn’t have, either.”
“Last time, I was nice enough to leave your home life outta it. Didn’t say shit ‘bout your wife, didn’t make no comments ‘bout how sad it is to raise some other man’s spawn... not even any threats ‘bout payin’ a visit to see ‘em someday.”
“Guess there just ain’t no professional courtesy left, is there?”
“Rub me the wrong way again, and I’ll remember that your family is fair game. I’d hate to take things there, but ya ain’t exactly been treatin’ me with the kinda mutual respect I hoped for.”
“Oh, well.”
“Guess there really ain’t no point to any of this, is there? Ya ain’t long for this business, buddy. But me? I’m just gettin’ started.”
“My fire is burnin’ bright, while your flames are dyin’ out... like the last glowin’ embers of a campfire givin’ way to the creepin’ dark.”
“Everyone’s time comes eventually. Fact of nature.”
“Ya ain’t no different.”
“Maybe this comes as a surprise to ya. Guess someone as smart as Mark Hunter still has a thing or two to learn, huh?”
“Don’t worry, though...”
“...Billy’s a real good teacher.”
----------
A few seconds of hissing static, before the tape reaches the end, leaving Billy visibly puzzled.
Scouring her mind, she finds no memory of actually recording any of that.
The unfortunate truth of the situation Billy had found herself in was that she didn’t have time to ponder the present, or the past.
She had to focus on the future.
After all, people were counting on her.
Not just her brothers and soldiers, but her new friends at the Playhouse, too!
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