(Prosinec 10, 46 / 10:41PM)

  Many years prior.

  A single knock was heard against an old crooked door. A lone woman, a mother with blonde hair with wrinkles patching all across her cheeks and forehead, walked rapidly toward the front door.

  Having no shoes on, her bare feet spped against the marbled floor below, the tips of her toes reddened from the dirt littering the ground. Reaching the front door, she immediately pulled the handle toward her, opening the door wide to see…

  (Betty’s mother) Oh, Doug. What brings you here?

  His back straightened, along with his warm smile pushing the corners of his lips to the halfway point of his jaw and ears. His eyes softened under the carefree smile of his girlfriend’s mother, he nodded at her, while making his way into the old battered house.

  In his right hand, he carried a rge garbage bag. As if the bag was wrapped in yers upon yers of tinted bck, it looked heavy, since his arm seemed to bulge by just carrying it.

  (Betty’s mother) I could help you with the bag.

  (Doug) Oh no thanks, it’s nothing. Just some personal luggage I have…

  Settling his boots into the marble floor, he kept his eyes trailed to the floor, his hands low to his sides. The bottom of the rge bck pstic bag barely grazing the floor, he plopped himself right onto the couch, cushioning his back with the old cotton.

  Pcing the rge bag right next to him, Betty’s mother tilted her head to the right at the luggage. Curious, she raised the tip of her pointer finger to the bottom of her chin.

  (Betty’s mother) Do you mind me asking what you brought with you dear?

  (Doug) A bunch of mail and messages I have. There are so many that I seem to have lost count.

  (Betty’s mother) Well, you can do that on your own. For now, it seems pretty te so I would suggest getting some sleep.

  (Doug) Truthfully speaking, I don’t remember a time when I had slept…

  His eyelids and eyes were clouded with eye bags, clouded in the darkest pitch of bck. As if he had not slept in over a couple of days or more, even his hands remain numb on his knees, leading them to fall asleep.

  Tilting his head up, his eyes flickered repeatedly, his eyelids trying to shut himself away from the reality he lived. Gawking his mouth open, a slight twitch startled him, a mechanism a body does during the process of falling asleep.

  Finally closing his eyes, a loud snore crawled out of his throat.

  (Betty’s mother’s thoughts) I wonder what caused him to slumber in my home at this hour…?

  Rubbing her chin with her wrinkled hand, she began to stare at the rge bag on the marble floor, the top of it being wrapped by a rubber band. Sinking her eyes deep into its color, she narrowed her eyes.

  (Betty’s mother’s thoughts) What was he doing, to begin with? If he said he had letters or messages inside that bag…

  She began walking toward the rge pstic bag, having her hands stationed at her ribcage with her elbows tucked in. Letting the snoring young man sleep away his problems, she stood in front of the bag, and bent down with her fingers firm on the top.

  (Betty’s mother’s thoughts) Then that poor, poor boy. He has done so much for me, so I should take some burden off of him.

  Her fingers unwrapping the rubber band, she lifted it, pcing it onto the creaky old coffee table behind her. The rge pstic bag being a millimeter open from the top, she didn’t even need to unveil it, as her nostrils inhaled something from it…

  Wrinkling her nostrils, she pinched her nose, ceasing the gaseous odor from entering her lungs. With just one sniff, it smelled like a rotting fish basking underneath a desert sun on a parched summer day.

  (Betty’s mother’s thoughts) How can letters be so smelly?

  Gulping down whatever saliva stuck to her throat, she used her left hand to pinch her nose, while plunging her right hand into the bag. Feeling multiple yers of bags all wrapping around each other, she was fast enough to reach the main one, her fingers grazing the ends of something sticky.

  Her nails molded with humidity, she grabbed onto the ‘message’, her fingers feeling as if she was touching a prickly carpet.

  Pulling out whatever she had in her hand, as soon as—

  It was a head.

  (Betty’s mother) ha … ha …

  Its skin already paled and blue, its eyes remained closed, and it will be that way for as long as time. Seeing its neck sawed off, no blood drizzled from the bottom, indicating it was already long dead to begin with.

  Letting go of her pinched nose, she dropped the head and jumped back. Clutching her hands over her chest, her throat quivered relentlessly as she stared at the lifeless head.

  Without warning, she screamed.

  (Betty’s mother) AAAH!!!

  A scream that could wake up the world, even her ears pierced against her eardrums. Already flocking tears in her eyes, she fanned her face with her hands repeatedly and tumbled toward the floor that cushioned her bottom.

  Ceasing her scream, she began to hyperventite.

  (Betty’s mother) What do I do!? Why does he have—

  (Doug) Oh no…

  He cast his shadow on the frightened woman.

  Both of his hands inside his jacket’s pockets, he slumped his cheeks and eyes down. Arching his head and back forward, a low grizzle rumbled his throat, as the tips of his boots narrowly touched her nails.

  Clinging her hands and fingers to her body, she quivered her open mouth.

  (Doug) You should’ve kept your nose out of that bag.

  He brought out a pair of tex from both of his pockets, his fingers gripping the bottom of them. Putting them on, he kept his eyes on the pale-faced woman, who began to crawl slowly on the marbled floor with just her thighs and calves.

  Letting her back hit against the old cushioned couch, she was right next to the bag where she pulled the cleaved-off head. The smell molesting every atom of her nostrils, she wrinkled her eyelids and closed them shut.

  While she crawled, he put on the blue tex gloves, letting the material blister and scorch his palms, knuckles, and fingers on both of his hands. Moving his right hand into his jacket, he scurried it with his gloves, until he pulled out a metallic object holstered—

  It was a pistol.

  Having his finger on the side of it, he lowered the gun down to his side. Walking toward the trembling woman, her head repeatedly swayed the more his boots thumped her old house floor.

  (Betty’s mother) Please no…

  (Doug) I’m sorry.

  Kneeling with his right knee, he pced the barrel of the gun just below her chin. Angling the gun would make sure that the bullet traveled through her skull and out, leading to an instant death.

  As well as making it look like a suicide.

  Her chin shivering from the hard cold metal of the weapon, the rest of her body quivered and gawked the more the gun stationed underneath. Raising her numbed hands, she plopped them onto his wrist, but couldn’t find the strength to push or squeeze it away.

  (Betty’s mother) Don’t kill … don’t kill …

  (Doug) I didn’t ask for this either…

  Frowning, he began to trail his finger to the trigger, letting the tex glove slowly zip through the metallic engraving. Reaching the mechanized metal, he hovered over it by just a millimeter gap, his eyes still shaded in dark circled eye bags.

  Pushing whatever strength she had in her arms, it wasn’t enough to pull the barrel from her chin, nor the gun to her body. Sobbing, trailing out more tears from her pinkish-red eyes, she continued to look into the darkened eyes of the killer in front of her.

  (Doug) I made a deal.

  Silence took hold in the old house.

  No mouse, cockroach, or cricket uttered a fading voice, nor did the howling night wind from outside. Making it seem as if time had stopped, only the twitch of the gun startled the air, as Doug’s hand…

  Violently shook.

  Unable to cough out tears, his eyelids looked drained of it. Did he use up all of his tears? But for what?

  (Doug) For my goal to work, they told me I had no other choice. With all the money the wealthiest families combined have, I could …

  He conjured a heap of air into his throat and lungs, pushing it deep into his airways. Forcing unneeded air, he lowered his head down, letting his eyes stare at the marble while his finger began tapping the trigger.

  Not long after, a single tear from his left eye flowed out.

  (Doug) I could change the entirety of this world. A man with the right morals, and ideas, with all the money in the world … could change it to be a better pce …

  Her breathing slowed, along with her heart thumping softly against her chest. As if she was about to greet the creator himself, she let her numbed hands plop down to her thighs, her knuckles jabbing themselves onto her knees.

  Tilting her head up, she stared up at the ceiling and sealed her lips like a winter jacket’s zipper.

  (Doug) So please … please just be a martyr for my sake. I know history won’t give you the happiest of endings, but you—

  (Betty’s mother) I understand …

  Doug tilted his head up, allowing his eyes to widen.

  His eye bags fading away like mystical mist, he looked upon the restful woman who didn’t push nor argue with him. Shocked, too shocked for words, he loosened the barrel from her chin, letting it hover by a centimeter from her skin.

  Ceasing his trembling hand, he also lifted his finger from the trigger, while his other hand raised onto her shoulder.

  (Betty’s mother) You’re bckmailed … ensved to do something for the betterment of all of us. If killing all those folks would give us a better world, then …

  Closing her eyes, she lifted her hands again to his wrist, her hands and fingers un-numbed by the pulsating blood in her skin. Clenching deep into his skin, her nails stabbed right into the top of his bone, leading blood to plunge out from his vessels.

  With his left hand which cmped her shoulder, he moved it around her neck.

  (Betty’s mother) End my suffering.

  Doug pulled her in.

  The barrel of his pistol aiming up to her skull from her chin, he pressed excess air into his lungs, before pushing it all out. Bearing empty lungs, he puckered his lips and id her chin right near where his chest was.

  And pushed a voice resembling the devil himself.

  (Doug) I promise my greed will cleanse others’ sins … even in death…

  The world turned bck.

  And then came the crackled gunshot.

  ______________________________________________________________________________

  (Reverence 6, 59 / 8:00PM)

  In the present.

  Johnny and Elizabeth stepped back from the statement drawing from Doug’s lips. Their hands mingled together, Johnny nudged her so he could cover her, but Elizabeth being Elizabeth…

  She took a step forward instead.

  Narrowing her eyes at Doug, she tilted her head upward and pced her other hand into her pocket. Sizing him up, Johnny’s hand squeezed hers, trying to make her back down.

  Seeing the attitude drawing from her, Doug swayed his head back and forth.

  (Doug) What’s the matter? Care to expin your aggression Elizabeth?

  (Elizabeth) If Johnny isn’t going to say it, then I will.

  (Johnny) Wait, Ellie—

  Breaking free from his hand, she stomped toward the furrowed brow of Doug, whose hands were roaming free along his knees. His knuckles grazing the fabric of his pants, he took a step back once Elizabeth walked right up to him.

  And thrust her hands onto his colr.

  (Elizabeth) We’re tired of your constant shit old man! Me and Johnny are done! Zip pop!

  Bringing him close, her eyes soon gred deep into his, wrinkling his colr with her nails. Being one inch thick, they were sharp enough to penetrate the fabric of the jacket, leading the surface of his skin to melt under her cwed weapons.

  (Betty) You better back down before you know what’s good for you.

  Betty aimed her palms toward the cat-girl, causing Elizabeth to let go in the blink of an eye. Letting her hands drop down to her sides, she had them balled and lowered her head while continuing her gre.

  Doug wiped away his colr, sticking out his tongue to make a 'yuck' noise.

  Which made Johnny take a step forward, gluing his right foot deep into the ground below.

  (Johnny) She’s not dirty.

  (Doug) Oh, look who’s showing some spine. If you had that attitude during your teenage years, you’d be less useless.

  (Johnny) Oh really?

  Johnny moved his hands to the inside of his jacket, pcing them on his lower back. His fingers below the tip of the barrel, Johnny pushed his left foot forward as well, leading him to clench the back ends of his teeth.

  Noticing his hands, Doug grabbed the other side of his jacket, extending the side to unveil his trench gun stored like a weapon rank. Nestled like a baby, Johnny’s eyes didn’t waver at the gun.

  (Doug) You know I’m armed too. And besides…

  Doug let his feet travel to his son, his boots grazing and trickling the metal beneath his soles. Standing in front of him, he took note of his son’s tall height, as he stared up at him with narrowed eyes.

  Johnny did the same, both stared at each other’s throats.

  (Doug) You don’t have the grit.

  Meanwhile, Elizabeth turned her narrowed eyes to the wrinkled woman, who aimed her palms at her. Straightening her back, she tilted her head up, pushing a small smirk with her parched lips.

  (Elizabeth) Cat-humans are good with scent, so blinding me ain’t going to work.

  (Betty) Don’t make me test that.

  (Elizabeth) Oh, it’ll be easy.

  No one moved, no one meeped or yelled, not even a simple twitch of a muscle sprinkled from their bodies. Leaving the room to be as silent as a dead mouse, all four of them ignored the whistling pnts around them, as the fake wind blew through the ventition shafts.

  But a bee fastened out from one of the vents.

  Buzzing, Doug gnced at the rapidly flying bee barreling its way to him. Its stinger showcasing itself early, his eyes widened, turning his body around while taking a step to the right at the same time—

  (Johnny) You fell for it pop.

  Drawing out his light submachine gun, he used his right hand to pull the barrel from his back, rippling his brown thin jacket.

  With no other choice, Doug quickly jabbed his left hand into his jacket, his palm wrapped around the center of the trench gun. Pulling it out with ease, he perked it firmly into his armpit, ignoring the bee that stung the back of his neck.

  Pushing his finger on the trigger, Doug aimed the barrel at the side of Johnny’s stomach, not at it. Johnny also did the same.

  (Betty’s thoughts) Unsight.

  Having her body weight pressed firmly on the tips of her toes, she lunged straight at the old wrinkled woman. Letting her nostrils catch wind of the smell of alcohol, nicotine, and rotting teeth, her face wrinkled.

  Even when she noticed her vision closing shut.

  Trailing the stench of her unwashed mouth, Elizabeth pulled back her right hand. Thrusting it instantly toward Betty, her knuckles mingled and slobbered against themselves, piercing the odd wind with her fist.

  (Elizabeth’s thoughts) Too easy.

  Lunging back in the knick of time, Betty barely avoided the incoming fist. Her knuckle pushing the wind, Elizabeth smirked and lifted her right lip, despite her pupils fogged and clouded by Betty’s curse.

  Her nostrils widened, and she directed her face toward the smell. By just pulling back her right fist yet again, she plowed through the air and hunched her body 90 degrees to gain momentum.

  And while she was preparing to thrust her right fist, she had her left palm low to the ground.

  (Betty’s thoughts) What is she doing?

  A small fog of mist spurted from her left hand, making it seem she was dropping or plowing smoke. Knowing she had a blessing, Betty lowered her palms and widened her eyes at the mist which was darkened and dense.

  Dancing up to form a cloud, it was shaded and jagged in a pitch-bck color. Sparks of electricity rummaging inside of it, trickles upon trickles of sweat trailed down her pale cheeks, as she exhaled her foul breath rapidly.

  Her face growing a ghostly pale, Betty bit her lower lip.

  (Betty) Now don’t you dare…

  (Elizabeth) Do your worst, cloudy.

  Simir to the fight against Mia a month prior, she unleashed her angry ball of cloud, which resembled simirly to a rabid dog. Seeing the cloud begin to expand and grow on top of them, Betty took a couple of steps back before she began running away.

  Presenting the camera to the two men.

  Both were at a standstill, ignoring the two women who battled it out. Their fingers firm on their respective triggers, they analyzed even the minuscule parts of their finger muscles, awaiting any move like patient hawks.

  (Johnny) Believe me, when I say it, you had thoughts of killing or disposing of me.

  (Doug) Why would I have such thoughts?

  (Johnny) Considering how you act, I wouldn’t be surprised. So admit it.

  Johnny nudged the gun up an inch while taking a small step forward. Holding his breath, it ballooned his lungs to expand, leading his chest and ribcage to grow out. Squinting his eyes, he had his irises square dead center into Doug’s soulless ones, leading Johnny to raise the machine gun.

  (Johnny) Pulling that trigger … killing your son for the greater good … you’d do it in a heartbeat.

  Doug’s cheeks pushed down.

  The greater good? He hadn’t heard that phrase for a long time. His goal … he’d forgotten all about it, his mind cobbled with thoughts and useless junk all reted to the parent of vice.

  Still maintaining the barrel of his trench gun on Johnny, Doug took a step back, as his left hand which held the center started to shake. His fingers quivered on the wooden metal, his ears were caressed by faint whispers … whispers of voices he …

  Forgot existed.

  (???) You promised.

  That single phrase. Over and over again like a mother reminding their son to do a chore. Tingling and drawing out the feeling of his ears, his nerves felt like they were shaken with ice.

  Biting down on his lip, his eyelids darkened, as he remembered the depressing night so long ago. A night he took greed for granted, a night in which history pointed an old lone woman as the bmer; instead of him.

  He made it seem as if she committed suicide, and with the rge bag of heads he carried, it looked like she did the handiwork of it. Remembering the stories, rumors, and textbook after textbook of hearing the woman who took down most of the elite…

  He altered it by just his lonesome.

  (Doug) From what I’ve done … and what I’ve known … Let me show you.

  A barrage of bullets stormed the train cart.

  Leading the fake garden to reverberate the pulsating bullets, Johnny had already lunged to the left to avoid the storm. Gripping his hands on his machine gun, he had his eyes open to witness the storm of bullets…

  Puckering his father like Swiss cheese.

  Stabbing and riddling his chest and abdomen with bullets, all of them forgot to strike near his heart. Blood loitering amongst the low crunched grass, Doug stained it with his gushing blood, while keeping his feet glued to the ground. The sounds of piercing gunshots ceased, and even Elizabeth and Betty turned toward the commotion from the other fight.

  (Johnny’s thoughts) He should’ve waited, but then again …

  Turning his head back to him, he trailed the line of smoke toward the previous train cart door. Standing in front of it, a shark-human had already tucked the butt of his machine gun into his armpit, his finger pulled out of the trigger while gring his eyes at the chubby man.

  Slowly walking forth into the fake garden, he wore his usual frown.

  (Johnny’s thoughts) My father would have shot me dead…

  Not taking any chances, he started to reload another round into the machine gun, clicking and locking the chamber with a ricochet csh of metal. His barrel focusing entirely on the chubby man who gushed out blood, he let the barrel trail just to his right.

  Which was an area Doug had especially guarded.

  Walking right by Johnny’s side, Benn wielded the heavy machine gun with just his right hand and extended his left down to the fallen Johnny.

  (Benn) Let’s take care of this evil bastard once and for all.