Oh, that FUCKING BITCH!

I whipped my head back and forth at the approaching running footsteps, coming from both directions. I cursed, ran my head through my tangled hair, and licked my lips. They were getting close, and I was getting nowhere.

"Fuck it," I spat, and started to climb up the curtains, my feet walking up the wall.

My breaths heaved, and I tried to keep them under control. The result was I took less breaths, and I was getting blackout tired. I growled and cursed more and more as my vision started to darken. I wanted to wheeze so bad; it was the only option, breathing was out. When they said cigarettes were going to kill me, I never imagined how right and yet wrong they were.

I made it three-quarters of the way up when they got close, so I stayed still, resting my back against the wall, trying to make the curtains look flat and un-bulged. A flashlight beam hit the window, and there was some excited chattering. I heard a weapon cock.

The beam started to dart all over the place, and then one of the two guys below pointed something out, something on the wall. The flashlight went up, and settled on the claw marks Liz had made on the wall. The beam traced the holes, slowly moving up the window. Towards me.

I spun and planted my feet back on the wall. I pushed off and jumped at the guards, sliding down the curtain, burning up my hands. When my feet were at their face-level, I pushed off the wall again, jumping off, spinning, and kicking at them. I got them both, one foot per head, and we all fell to the floor in a heap. I rolled off them, and went for my hammer. Both guys got up, and got ready to aim. Still down low, I swung at their knees, giving them both a whack. They fell onto them, and with one swing I hit them both in the face, dropping them. I turned and ran towards where Liz scampered off to, as they started to get up, screaming into their radios. Holy Christ, these guys were tough.

As I started to reach the junction in the hallway by the library, a group of five guards rounded the corner, lead by Commander Big Dick. I didn't slow down, and raised the hammer up to throw it. The guys behind the commander couldn't get into a straight line horizontally, so they just drew and aimed while still in a bunch, not wanting to kill their commanding officer. The leader grinned at me, and put his gun away. As I got close, I chucked the hammer at him.

He had been expecting it, and I wasn't expecting him to catch it. He spun with the momentum of my throw graciously, and it turned him all the way around so he was facing me again. He dropped the hammer, and went for his machine gun.

What he didn't expect was that I would be so close that quick, or more like he probably didn't think it mattered. He had forgotten that he had a can of mace on his belt, and he didn't know how quick I could pick-pocket people. How could he?

I sprayed the mace right into his face.

He howled, and got down on his knees, clutching at his eyes, letting his gun fall slack in its strap. The other guys got ready to fire, but I was too quick. I stepped onto the commander's shoulders, and dove on top of the guards like I was doing a stage-dive.

I crawled over their shoulders and heads, and got pretty far before they got was up—no pun intended, by the way—and started to reach for me. One got an ankle, the other got my neck. They didn't get the hand with the mace, though, so I sprayed them all.

Everyone went down, and I landed on my stomach. I got up, and sprinted away while they were all still crying in pain. I knew they wouldn't stay down long; part of a cop's training is to get hit with mace, so they could understand and overcome the pain. These guys probably had gone through all sorts of hell before their trainer had even let them have breakfast. I was hoping to be around the corner and gone by the time they were up.

I hooked left, looking up at the ceiling at the marks Liz made. I hoped to whatever God there was that, despite His sick sense of humor, I was following the marks Liz had just made getting away from me.

I spotted her, just up ahead on the ceiling, taking her sweet time. She must have heard me running at her, because she turned in a nonchalant way that vanished as soon as she saw who it was.

"Ahhh... Ahhh-hah!" I yelled like an idiot through my wheezes, pointing at her. "Fou... found you!" Yup. Big-ass moron. That's me.

"Wha-wha-whaaaaaat?!" She screamed that and pointed at me accusingly. "What in the fuck is wrong with you?!"

For some reason I wanted to shout while sprinting, "You! You, this place, this plan, this crazy shit, my job, my ex, my life, my luck with women, the sun, the moon, the ocean, and anything and everything else that seems only to exist to FUCKING PISS ME THE FUCK OFF!!!"

What I actually said was, "Ack! Acka-ack-aaaaaaaaach! Gurple, sheeee, aaach-AAAAAACK!!!" I then puked while running. I turned to the side while doing it, though. I didn't want to have to clean my new boots later.

Yeah, she really did have a point: what in the fuck was wrong with me?

She screeched in anger, and started to clamber along the ceiling faster. So, I started shooting at her. Kind of. It's more like I pointed the gun in her general direction and ruined the shit out of the ceiling and walls. And one window. Fuck it, this guy who owned it had plenty of money. Wait, he was probably dead.

Wait, I should have probably focused. I would have noticed that she had stopped moving, let me get underneath her, and then dropped down on me.

I only barely dodged it, and swung the gun in her face. The now empty gun. So, naturally, I threw it.

Jesus, I'm horrible to women. I really hope there is no such thing as karma. And I also hope that God is a He and not a She.

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She dodged the gun, and I pulled the same stunt I'd pulled with the commander, and reached for the orb that she had shoved in between her cleavage. She saw what was up, though, and started to swing at me. I panicked, and tore open her dress. No comment on the integrity of her bra. The orb dropped and rolled behind her as I fell back, my fingers tangled up in cloth.

She roared like a fuckin' lion, man, and ran at me. I got low, and when she closed the distance, dove forward through her legs, getting tangled up in what was left of her dress. It tripped her up, and she fell, kicking her clawed feet at me as I struggled through her shredded clothes to get to the orb, and scraped up the empty gun, hoping I would find bullets later.

She spun around just as I got my fingers around it, trying to claw me. I swung my whole bag at her, and she shredded it, sending my tools everywhere. I dropped the bag, and tried to juke her, but she jumped at me again, missing but clawing my leg.

I stumbled through a door into a room filled with priceless pieces, like old tapestries, and even some suits of armor. There were a few swords and axes locked up alongside lances and spears in glass cases. Old books were on display with darkened spotlights above them. I fell and rolled as she sprinted past me, turning on her heels to face me.

A lone guard suddenly burst in through a door on the other side, and started to light the place up with gun fire. He laced the walls and floors with bullets, reloaded so fast I couldn't even catch it, and started up again. The guy had no idea as to who to shoot at though, and his shots were wild and crazy. He was screaming while he did it, his face screwed up with terror. It almost looked like one side of his face was smiling, with his mouth almost completely scrunched up on it. His eyebrows were down, but his eyes were wide, making him look both dangerous, wild, and surreal. Halfway through the second magazine he finally got the idea to bring the stock up to his shoulder and fire in bursts to keep everything under control. He was still leaning back, though, drawing so much air into his lungs that it almost drowned out the gunfire.

Liz and I both weren't hit, and dove apart, hitting opposite walls and heading for the guy, racing each other. I wanted that gun, and Liz wanted us both. She was too damn quick, and got right to his side in what had to be two steps. It was like every step was really a lunge, with her coiling up her one leg with all her weight, and then springing forward to do it again. I was right next to a suit of armor, and I rammed it with everything I had left. It gave, and fell towards the guard. He leaped forward just as Liz pounced at him, her arms open, trying to get him a bear hug. When she missed, she was right at the wall, right next to me. I back-peddled without thinking, slamming into the guard, who had spun and was reloading. He swung the butt of the gun at my head, and I ducked. The damn thing still got me in the shoulder though, and I went sprawling down. His gun clicked. I picked up a gauntlet from the armor that had fallen to pieces, and rolled as the floor where I had been got torn up by bullets. I spun and stood, back-handing him with the gauntlet. He stumbled right into a lunging Liz, who swiped him so hard he flew against a wall, bleeding terribly, and smashed one of the cases holding spears. I dove on the floor, cutting myself up on the glass, as Liz flung herself at me, flying overhead in a wild miss.

I didn't plan anything, it was all instinct: I picked up a spear, and Liz never saw until it was too late. She ran at me, and I charged her, sinking the spear deep into her chest.

She kept running, and it was passing right through her. She didn't give a good goddamn; her eyes had gone completely red now. I jerked the spear so the handle was parallel against my chest like a turnstile, and ran forward, twisting Liz off her feet. I let go, and she went down, howling in pain. I ran for the other door, and managed to ram through it, when I heard a legion of guards burst in behind me. I flattened against the wall outside the room, and peeked around the corner.

The consultant ran in first, right at Liz, holding a sword. He didn't even stop to take note of the injured guard. He was all business; he probably didn't give a shit if the guy died. He knew what he had to do, and his face was completely stoic. That scared the shit out of me; he had a boy's face, a baby face. He looked like he would be right at home singing in the church choir. There was no anger, no fear, nothing, and there was probably nothing inside his heart.

Liz looked up at him, and her eyes suddenly changed back to normal. I might have heard a whimper. Sometimes, I stay up nights, even if my body is dead tired, but my mind is running as hard as it can, trying to figure out if I heard a whimper.

The consultant swung the sword around his head in a huge circle, gaining momentum, and then at Liz's neck. It went through, sticking into the wall with a thunk, and the strike... well... just... I couldn't move. It went through her neck. I mean... Jesus... I know I had hurt her bad, but... but... but come on, what the fuck was I supposed to do? I wasn't planning that shit! How could I?! I only had what was there! The fuck was I supposed to do?! It was violent, twisted, but I didn't plan it. I didn't. I wouldn't. I'd never want to. You see people get beheaded in TV and movies and shit all the time. Some people think you're still alive after, even after your head rolls off and on the ground. I'll do you one better. When it stopped rolling, those baby-blues found mine, and they were doe-eyed and terrified. I didn't let myself notice any more details. I could have stayed there forever until I could paint the scene myself. Blood and all. And there was a lot of it. Every twitch her body made sprayed a little bit more...

I'd seen people die, and I've... I'd seen people die. I don't like it. That's all I have to say about it. I don't like it. And I don't quite like myself. Especially right then.

Her hair started to turn white, and her skin—all of her skin, no matter where it was—started to get very wrinkled. Her eyes fell back into her skull, looking like dried, pathetic, pruned up sorry little things, and all her wavy hair fell out, brittle-looking, like grass kindling. The flesh started to decay, like it was melting right off her bones. Very soon they were visible, her entire skeleton, coated in a fine layer of dust, until the bones became dust themselves. In the end, there was nothing but ash.

The consultant started saying something about getting the other guy medical attention and looking for me. It was all in a voice as cool as his face.

I didn't bother hanging around. I saw the kitchen. And then suddenly I was in it. Alone. There must have only been so many guards left. I went outside. It was cool out. It felt nice, I guess. Then I was on the wall, dropping down. Don't ask me how I got there. I don't know.

I almost rolled my ankle again falling off the wall on the other side, and I started to jog back towards the town. I didn't bother looking for a ride. There would be too many questions, and I didn't want to talk. I couldn't talk. I'd just throw up. When I reached the town, I cocked the empty gun so it would look loaded and moved my jacket so it would cover it. I walked into a fast food restaurant and got something light to eat, something I could keep down. It was one of the hardest things I'd ever tried to do. I pulled out the orb, and stared at it for a while, before putting it back. I got some stares from other people, but no questions. That was fine by me.

I felt human again when I walked out, and even more so when I lit a smoke. I just stood there a while, smoking. I had what I needed. I hadn't liked getting it, but I had it. Now, everyone had to go through me to get it. They couldn't just outright kill me, as long as I hid it.

I forced a smile, felt it didn't fit, and let myself rest for a moment. I tried again, and it stayed this time. It could be over soon. I had the ball, so to speak. They had started it, and I was going to finish it. They had cranked it all up to murder, not me. They had even killed Morris. I had survived. Even though it wasn't pretty, by some miracle, I was still alive. I wouldn't be if I stayed in this town though, so I started towards the train station.

The smile stayed. It still felt like it didn't fit right, but it held fast. For now.