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Joined: July 23rd, 2008, 11:45 pm

March 29th, 2011, 5:20 am #11

Rhory gave a single, breathy laugh, curling her mouth into a half-smile around the sound. “No need to be such a bitch, Kimmy. We’re just talking.”

The girl was so tense. Rhory could almost hear her heart beating from where she stood. It made the thing in Rhory’s chest roar. It all felt so good. She hadn’t felt good in a long time. There had been rushes. There had been adrenaline and panic. There had been moments where she felt alive. Fleeting, but there even in the fear and exhaustion. But none of it was pleasure. Not the running, not the shitting, not the crying. Not even flicking her clit brought any pleasure anymore. Rhory was broken. She’d known it from the first day. Something had stopped working, had cracked long ago. Jackson and Ethan had pushed what was left beyond repair. Bill left nothing but cracked gears and dust. Whatever kept her going ground and crashed and sputtered within her. Ready to fail at any moment. Already failing, maybe. But she still had a sense of pleasure after all, however broken. The fire-thing told her that. It was her turn to break something and it felt so fucking good.

She was at the girl’s left side now. The barrel was aimed at her ear. Kimmy was more than just tense. Dense, maybe. A little black hole sucking Rhory in. Everything but the pleasure and the control and the little fire-thing. She wondered if that’s how the fire-thing got in her, just got sucked up into a hole in her chest from Bill. Maybe wormed its way in as she crushed his face until she could see the bone chips flecking across the floor. She wondered what it would be like to do the same to Kimmy’s pretty little face. She wanted the idea to excite her. She wanted something to wet her as much as being on the right side of the gun did. It caught in her stomach instead. Her hands felt suddenly weak. She steeled them against the gun. She began to trail a filthy strand of Kimberly’s hair across the barrel.

A glimmer on the ground caught her eye. A hook. It looked wicked and clean. She grinned the other half of her smirk. She had her question.

“So, tell me. How’d you do the deed? Kimmy at the docks with the... the hell is that? A hook?” She’d craned her neck around towards Kimberly’s face but now drew it back, blowing the words into her ear. “That’s a funny thing to kill a girl with, yeah?”
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MurderWeasel
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Joined: February 18th, 2009, 7:01 am

March 29th, 2011, 5:39 am #12

Apparently Rhory was all pissy because Kimberly was being a bitch. That was really too damn bad for her. At this point, Kimberly didn't feel inclined to stop being a bitch for anything short of the terminal cessation of her mental functions due to gunshot.

Rhory was fucking fidgety. Kept pacing, moving. The gun just kept fucking moving. That wasn't such a hot decision on Rhory's part. Sooner or later, it'd probably point away. Then Kimberly could smack it out of the way, smash Rhory in the face, and get the fuck clear. Only, problem was, that wasn't very practical since Rhory was playing around on Kimberly's left side, the side with her fucking crippled arm.

Just another mark on your tab, Kris.

There's going to be a fucking reckoning.

Rhory was asking her about her kill. Was invading her personal space again. Kimberly could feel her body temperature rising, could feel her shoulders and lower back starting to sweat. Dammit. This really wasn't what she wanted to talk about right now. She could lie, say she'd hooked Aisyln's guts out or something, but that wouldn't feel right. That'd be letting Rhory force her into a fib, and there was no way she was going to let that happen. She could tell the truth, and solidify her status as a totally helpless weakling. That felt like losing too, though.

She opted for the third solution.

"Nah, I didn't use the hook. Just like I know you didn't shoot your guy with that nice little rifle. So, how'd you do him, Best Kill?"

We can both can play your games, bitch, and I'm better at them.
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Joined: July 23rd, 2008, 11:45 pm

March 29th, 2011, 6:27 am #13

Best Kill, Best Kill, Best Kill. Kimberly was trying so hard to use it against her. It was working. It was the only thing that could make that little greasefire sputter. It made Rhory wish she could pull the trigger. This girl, she had no clue. She had no right. She hadn’t seen Marion’s face as the shot hit her in the chest. She hadn’t seen Logan’s eyes nearly burst into hers, wet surfaces ripping under the strain of something in there that made her feel inhuman by comparison. She hadn’t had to feel Bill’s meat split under her fingers or thick globs of his blood cough out onto her hands. She’d killed someone and didn’t have the fucking guts to say it out loud. She was a coward and she’d killed like a coward. Rhory had no doubts about that.

She drew her lips closer to the girls ear so that she could almost taste the sweat and wax. Kimmy wanted to take control. She thought she could take control from Rhory. But no. No no fuck you and no. Rhory was done with that. She was done being on the wrong end of control. She’d already had Jack and Ethan taken from her. She’d had her clean-ness taken from her. She’d had her wholeness taken from her. She’d had her hand taken from her. Her blood and her skin. She’d had her dignity taken with the running and hiding, the killing, the having to kill to survive and that award, that prize that had made her stop and scream and scream and still she’d come so close to taking it anyway. She was done with it. There was no room for that Rhory anymore, that weak little worthless cumstain who couldn’t do anything for Jack or Ethan or Logan or Marion or her own worthless self. There was only the fire-thing and it wouldn’t let her give up control. It hadn’t had its fun yet.

Fun, fun, fun. That’s what it was all about now. No more “Best Kill”. None of this Kimmy grasping weakly for her control. Because that wasn’t about to change hands. Rhory was in control.

Rhory was in control.

She nearly licked the lobe of Kimberly’s ear as she spoke.

“Weren’t you paying attention?”

She fought the urge to tear it off with her teeth.

“I ripped his fucking throat out.”

She snapped her head back. She jabbed the barrel into Kimberly’s neck. Quick, hard. She dug it in.

“You didn’t answer my question yet.” Spit flew at the other girl’s face through Rhory’s tightly clenched teeth. “And call me by my name this time, Kimmy. Or I’ll get to be Best fucking Kill all over again.”
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MurderWeasel
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Joined: February 18th, 2009, 7:01 am

March 29th, 2011, 7:03 am #14

Rhory got even closer. She was getting worked up now, getting fucking pissed. Kimberly could feel it in the airflow against her ear, the tickling. Its savagery aside, it was almost pleasant. It carried memories from the past, and promises for the future. It told Kimberly she'd won. Whatever happened now, she'd fucked Rhory over good. Rhory was explaining her kill, all wrathful and indignant, just like Kimberly had asked.

And then she was slamming the barrel of the gun into Kimberly's neck. Kimberly coughed, her hand flinching towards her throat, her airway constricting for a couple of seconds as she struggled for breath.

No.

Not like this.

Not fucking suffocation, dying flopping helplessly on the ground as the world slowly faded away.

Better something quick.

Better a gunshot.

Kimberly was able to force her lungs to start working again, to force her breath to come once more, though she was still in pain. Rhory was asking for specifics again. She was demanding details. She was threatening to kill Kimberly.

Strangely enough, this wasn't all that frightening. Everything else that had transpired here had been scary. It had carried elements of insanity and the unknown. Kimberly had been sure for a moment that she was about to star in their version's edition of that scene that had gone around last year, with a vase or something. She'd been terrified that Rhory was going to systematically humiliate and abuse her. But now, all she was up against was death, and she'd been dancing to that tune since she first caught a bullet from Kris' gun.

It was an unusual grace, but right now she'd take whatever she could.

And she finally stopped analyzing everything, stopped thinking, and just acted.

She coughed a couple of times. Forced her hand to her side. Didn't even bother trying to estimate Rhory's reflexes.

"Ah, Rhory," Kimberly monotoned. "I killed her—"

And she ducked backwards, playing the worst game of limbo in the world with the gun, at the same time smashing Rhory in the gut with the palm of her hand. She didn't hear any weapon discharge, and she didn't die, either, so she quickly bobbed back into position and rammed the other girl with her shoulder, knocking her over. Kimberly fell on top of her, hearing the gun clatter to the side, landing hard, the pain jolting up her bad arm, but she didn't give a fuck. Right now, she had exactly one focus, and it was already sliding out of her boot and into position at Rhory's throat.

"—with this knife. By the way, I fucking hate being called 'Kimmy'."
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Joined: July 23rd, 2008, 11:45 pm

March 31st, 2011, 3:39 am #15

The fire was dead before Rhory hit the ground.

She was dully aware of the weight of the girl’s knees on her chest and the thin sharp line of pressure across her throat. There wasn’t any pain. There was no sensation. All she could feel were slight indentations in her husk. Her breath had been lost with the first blow and what little else was left had spilled out with it. She was dead. She had been dead since she’d grabbed Logan and let him take her bullets and looked at his face the whole time. It hadn’t saved her. It had erased her. The knife was a formality.

Rhory never had control. She had a self-destruct sequence.

It was the first good look at the girl’s face Rhory had gotten. She hadn’t noticed the bruise before. She wished she had. It was large and purple-black. Someone had left their mark. It was there in the eyes, too. Whatever Kimberly was so reluctant to say out loud was floating around in there. Someone had left a mark on her. It was almost a nice thought. Someone hanging on like that. Rhory had never had that kind of grip. Never stuck on anyone. Jackson had hated her. Ethan had used her. He’d been so sweet to her until Kurt and then he was gone. And Kurt. Kurt, who mounted her once every four days on the dot and told her he loved her. He hadn’t. She hadn’t. They were both just afraid to move on and so desperate to be fucked and wanted and important. She cried for them all. She let them all mark her up and sometimes she marked herself over them too. On them, never. Rhory never stuck on them. Rhory never meant anything to them. Rhory never left marks.

But now, she had Kimmy. She realized the idea excited her more than living did.

“Do it.”
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MurderWeasel
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Joined: February 18th, 2009, 7:01 am

March 31st, 2011, 4:28 am #16

Rhory's eyes were suddenly unreadable. Almost blank, but with just the hint of something familiar, at the edge of Kimberly's mind. There was no defeat. There was none of the fear Kimberly had hoped for. None of the pain she had anticipated. There was no struggle. No desperate attempt to throw her off. There was just Rhory, pinned under her, breathing and staring. She could feel the girl, could feel the life in her, the rise and fall of her chest, the warmth of her body. She realized that it would take a flick of the wrist to end all of that. One little movement of her hand, and it was game over for this girl, this tormentor. Kimberly now held all the power once again.

And then Rhory took it all away.

Two words: Do it.

Kimberly knew why Rhory's eyes had looked familiar.

"Come on. If you're going to shoot, shoot. Otherwise, let's fucking calm down and talk, but we're classmates, so I'm not having any of this POW bullshit Bridget's taking."

"Well come on, serial killer. Time to get a mark by your name, ward off some of the people who mean business."


Do it.

Do it.

Do it.

"Fuck you."

A smile. She let off with the knife, just the tiniest of bits.

"Why do you want to do this? What the fuck's not worth living for?"

Still the feeling of Rhory, the feeling of the sun beating on her back.

Is that your angle, Best Kill? Assisted suicide? Are you a coward?

But I'm not making the same mistake again.

Never again.
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Joined: July 23rd, 2008, 11:45 pm

April 2nd, 2011, 4:35 pm #17

Rhory was still tracing out the mark she’d leave in the girl’s eyes when the mouth started moving. A fuck you chased by some sentimental bullshit. The words didn’t matter. What mattered was that the sharp line of pressure over the collar had lessened and Kimberly was giving her that ugly little pity-smile. She thought of spitting at her. Instead, she started moving her arms.

She was so sure she’d seen her way out. She gave Kimberly her power. She gave her the warrant to act on it. Kimberly had chosen pity instead. No. She’d chosen weakness. Maybe there would have been some time and place where Rhory could have been helped. Maybe charitable little Kimmy could have called her up a suicide hotline and Rhory could get someone to dissect her poor broken brain and she could get little brown bottles of Zoloft to match her sister’s old ones. She remembered the hushed talk of “depression” and “medication” and “therapy” that had surrounded Erika’s high school years. She’d resented it all so much. Poor perfect little Erika. She’s not happy with her perfect life and her perfect grades and her perfect body and clothes and boyfriends. Poor little Erika’s sad. Poor little Erika wants to kill herself over nothing. Rhory understood now. She looked into Kimberly’s marked-up eyes and she knew what it was like to look at something and only see a noose.

Her hands closed around Kimberly’s.

“You spineless cunt.”

She’d make her own noose.

She stretched her neck. She felt the blade shave against the skin. She pushed Kimberly’s hands down hard. The knife slipped easily into the surface.
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MurderWeasel
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Joined: February 18th, 2009, 7:01 am

April 3rd, 2011, 1:39 am #18

Time stretched. Rhory moved. Kimberly wasn't quite sure what was going to happen. Maybe Rhory was going for another weapon, planning to force a decision. Kimberly wasn't killing her, though. That was absolutely certain.

If Rhory decided to play rough, well, Kimberly would absolutely cut all the fucking tendons in her hands to neutralize her threat potential. That seemed an acceptable compromise. She had pretty much no patience for pep talks. She'd given her little half-assed effort to make Rhory reconsider. As far as she was concerned, her role was now done.

Rhory disagreed.

She called Kimberly a name, then grabbed the knife, and Kimberly's hand with it, and brought it down to her own throat. Once more, Kimberly's reflexes served her well. She only had her good hand on the knife, but Rhory was weakened. Aside from the initial cut, the slight amount of blood once more on the knife, she wasn't making much progress towards making Kimberly kill her.

Kimberly wasn't having much luck getting the knife away from Rhory's neck, though. She let out a growl of frustration, then, in a quick movement, wrenched her hand away, opening it, leaving Rhory the choice of keeping hold of her hand or the knife.

Rhory was left with the knife, as Kimberly rolled off of her, rising and taking a couple steps back.

"You call me spineless? That's pretty funny. You wanna kill yourself, be my guest, use my knife, whatever. I don't see any fucking reason I need to be involved, though."

And with that, Kimberly turned back to her belongings, returning the grappling hook to her belt and beginning to tidy up, leaving Rhory to her own devices.
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Joined: July 23rd, 2008, 11:45 pm

April 4th, 2011, 3:14 am #19

The regret moved faster than her hands could. It came with the first sparks of pain as they crackled across her throat. She hadn’t thought of the pain. She hadn’t expected the nerve endings to react so savagely. She hadn’t really expected to feel at all. But the pain was there and it was violent, lionishly scratching and barbing where the skin split. The flesh of her face bent against the bone in a vulgar expression. Everything was too slow. It was supposed to be quick, clean. It was supposed to be an out. Not this. It couldn’t be this. She tried to push harder. Blood and fever spouted out against the digging edge. She’d push down to he bone if it would make it faster. Just not this, not for a moment longer. She didn’t want there to be pain. She couldn’t die in pain.

She felt Kimberly’s hand begin to slip from under her own and even as the blade cut deeper she knew she’d lost.

She weakened her grip. A blur of motion left Rhory’s right hand the only one on the knife’s hilt. She tore it away from her throat with a gasp. She held it away. It dangled harmlessly in the air above her chest, bold against the white backdrop of the bandages. She stared at it as the other girl stormed in her peripherals and ranted distant words that would never reach Rhory. The numb ring finger curled pathetically around the rubbery grip. Blood splashed garishly across the rest. She dropped it to her side.

She brought her trembling left arm to her neck. Blood and sweat soaked the sleeve of her henley immediately. A slow trickle had already burrowed under her collar. She brought the sleeve up to her eyes. The stain was unimpressive. The physical evidence was so much less dramatic than her synapses had declared. She brought the arm back down and forced her chin over it, providing pressure to the newest slit. She rocked herself ungracefully onto her left side. The probing stream of blood followed gravity’s new pull and began to wrap around her nape. She brought her legs in. She draped her right arm over her chest. She tried to go back to being numb.

Something clawed over her left cheek. She realized she was crying.

She was so empty and so weak and so fucking useless.
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MurderWeasel
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Joined: February 18th, 2009, 7:01 am

April 4th, 2011, 3:32 am #20

It took a little, but Kimberly got her stuff together. She had everything she needed to go on. Rhory hadn't stabbed her in the back while she was packing. She hadn't been expecting the other girl to. The last thing Kimberly had left to grab was her slightly crumpled package of cigarettes. She'd stuffed the few leftovers from her first pack into her second at some point, so it was bulging slightly. She looked at them. Fuck, she really wanted a smoke right now.

She picked up the pack and looked it over.

Fuck cravings.

She was about to haul back and pitch the cigarettes as far away as she could, when she paused for a second and glanced back at Rhory. The girl was on her side. From the way her chest was rising and falling, Kimberly was pretty sure she was crying. She frowned for a second. Apparently, being dead wasn't really Rhory's top priority after all. This was pretty much not a surprise in the slightest. It felt a bit awkward to watch her just lying there and crying, though. It was almost like a new person was there.

Kimberly rubbed her throat, still holding the pack of cigarettes. The place where Rhory had jabbed her still hurt like fuck. She glanced at the gun on the ground, and felt absolutely no inclination to pick it up. She wasn't even sure if she was going to retrieve the knife from Rhory.

She found herself walking over to the girl, though, found herself kneeling, pack in her hand, a single cigarette halfway out of it, between her thumb and index finger, extended towards Rhory.

Memories of the parking lot behind Bayview. Better days.

"You still smoke?"
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