Alright first off I've got some apologies for all (1 or 2) of you dear readers. I'm sorry for missing last couple Sundays-- you know, life gets in the way and secondly I'm sorry for the god awful fan-fiction I foisted on you all as some sort of half-assed April Fools prank. To make up for it (or possibly make you more pissed off, I dunno) I'm going to go against my better judgement and present to you a short story I wrote myself some time ago. If you follow my internet-related output (and I very much doubt you do) you may have read this before, but without further ado I present to you the purposely pulpy and intentionally ridiculous Carnage Execution Society. If you couldn't tell (it's pretty obvious) it's heavily inspired by both Kill Bill and the fabulous Wii game No More Heroes. As a matter of fact I may of wrote it right after completing NMH2: Desperate Struggle. I'd really like to make this into a short film someday too... but that's something that probably never will happen. Another way you could summarize this story-- like if the movie Sucker Punch was good. Anyways, it's after the jump. You can critique it in the comments if you want. Be gentle.
I was shoved into a rickety brown chair in a room in the far corner of Tripe Hall, one of the lesser used buildings on campus. A serious looking 20 something with bright blue hair and thick rimmed black glasses sat across from me. He was wearing a black suit and looking real freaking professional. There was a table with a guitar case sitting on it between us. The two bald thugs that strong-armed me in here filed out through the door. They slammed it shut. The one light bulb suspended above us swung in slow circles casting dancing shadows around us.
“Prudence,” the guy told me, “you've been chosen to be a member of our little club.”
“Seems like a real friendly group, punk.” I spat back. “Do you give all your potential new members such warm welcomes?” I rubbed the purple bruise under my right eye.
“Well, you see Prudence, that's kind of in the nature of our little secret organization we run here at Carnage University,” he responded with an odd professional air about him. He rolled in his wheeled office chair over to a green file cabinet and slid it open with a loud metallic clank. “Let's see...Aha, Penny comma Prudence!” He rolled back over with a papercliped file in his hand. “We've been keeping our eye on you Prudence and see that you're quite an accomplished...well...” he made a circular motion with his hand, “...fighter. You have black belts in multiple styles, weapons training, you're even a skilled sharpshooter. Pretty impressive for a twenty year old.”
“Those were just hobbies my brother and I shared, what does it have to do with some stupid college club?” I asked, laying a hand down on the table's dark finished surface.
“That's just it, we've got one more thing you and your brother can have in common, God rest his soul. He was a member of our little club, and now we want you too.” Now my interest was a little piqued. I loved my brother more than anything. We were best friends. You could say I haven't been quite the same freakin’ girl since he passed away. It's left my bitter and angry at the world. He was the only friend I had.
“Alright, spill the details.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose then began to explain.
“We are a very secret club, you see. Officially we don't exist. Officially, what we do is illegal. Technically some would no doubtably find what we do here morally repugnant and all-around wrong. We consider it sport. We're the Carnage Execution Society.” he said. “C-E-S, for short.” He said each individual letter slowly with a stern important tone.
“Ok, well what the hell does that mean?” I asked.
“I guess to the layman, we kill each other, for sport.” he answered, lighting a cigarette.
“What!? Why the hell would I want to kill people? That's all kinds of fucked up!” I yelled. I slammed my hand down on the table. I think I broke one of my blood red colored nails on it, but I really didn't give a shit at the time.
“Well, remember how I mentioned earlier that your brother was a member? Well, our topped ranked assassin was kind of the guy who killed him.”
“But Rock died in a car accident!”
“Yeah, a car was involved, but it was the gunshots and the whole being decapitated thing,” he made finger quotes here, the jackass, “that really did him in. Here.” He flipped a Polaroid at me and what was on it almost made me lose my lunch. That explains the closed casket. I was really pissed now.
“So you're telling me I join your disgusting little club and I get a chance at the sick bastard who took my big brother away from me?” I said through clenched teeth. “I get to write my own little rip-roaring tale of revenge?”
“You got it, blondie.” he said smugly. Blondie? He wasn't as professional as he looked, apparently.
“So what, is it hand-to-hand? Do I get a sword or what?” I asked. At this point I was in regardless though-- I was so mad I could feel the blood boiling in my veins. I couldn't tell what I was clenching harder, my fists or my teeth.
“Take the guitar case. Open it as soon as you are alone. There you will find the instruments we've selected for you to conduct your own little blood-soaked symphonies with.” he said. “You can use what we have selected for you and that is it.” I signed a couple papers, and swore to secrecy. Apparently if I blabbed to anyone, all the rules were off and all contestants would hunt me down all at once. I'd be screwed, basically. Three-to-one is bad odds, even for me.
“What about the legal issues regarding, you know, murder?” I asked, even though when it got right down to it I didn't even really care. I just wanted to avenge Rock.
“We will cover it up, Prudence. We're very good at that. Keep in mind you didn't even know what happened to your own brother.” He had a point. He told me that instructions would show up in my mailbox very soon. I took the case and left.
As soon as my annoying purple haired roommate was out of our dorm room, presumably at some anime club meeting-- 'cause she loved that crap-- I threw the black leather guitar case onto my bed. The clasps let out a satisfying click as I undid them and threw the thing open. Two weapons stared back at me. One was a beautiful shining Japanese katana in a polished black sheath. Painted on the sheath were little red flowers that matched my red nail polish. Next to that was the biggest damn revolver I've ever seen-- a Smith and Wesson Model 500 and about 20 bullets, enough for 4 reloads. I picked up the sword first, it felt lightweight and natural in my hands. I had used tons of swords before in the martial arts classes I took with my brother, but none of the swords there felt this good. I slid it out of it's holder. The clean steel shined, reflecting my gray eyes and cat's eye glasses back at me. I gave it a few practice swings, feeling the Japanese steel slice effortlessly through the air. Basically, it felt damn good. It slid back into it's sheath silently. Then I picked up the revolver-- it was hefty, 3 pounds at least. It's black grip felt super comfortable and it's stainless steel gleamed cleanly. I silently mimed firing it. Boom.
It was a couple of days later before a noticed a little white envelope behind the window of my mail cubbyhole. I turned the left knob to 1 and the right to 3 and the box popped open. My lucky number. I ripped open the envelope and found a tiny card inside. In clean black Times New Roman it said:
Your first fight: 3am 10th floor Damage Hall Dorms. Today.
I spent the rest of the day pretending like I wasn't going to be fighting for my life later that night.
Eventually three in the morning did roll around and, god damnit, I was ready. I already lived on the 10th floor of Damage Hall. I walked out into the brightly lit hallway with my new sword sheathed at my right and that giant gun holstered at my left. I was wearing my red plaid skirt, black tights and black tank-top; my long blonde hair was back in a ponytail to keep it the hell out of my face. I was real ready for this. Nobody was going to get in my way. I was going to avenge Rock. The whole dorm seemed strangely silent and empty. Did the organization find someway to clear out the dorms just for this? Perhaps they had more pull at the university than I thought. I stood at the end of the hall and awaited my challenger. That's when my obnoxious roommate, Anna Mae Westington appeared at the other end with her shockingly purple hair and stupid traditional Japanese schoolgirl outfit she always wore even though she wasn't even like, Japanese. Hell, she wasn't even Asian. She was always loud and shrill and getting on my nerves.
“Anna what are you doing out here?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Prudie, it looks like I'm your first opponent, hee hee!” she giggled. She was always giggling. It really pissed me off. That's when I noticed she was holding two really freaking huge kunai knives-- you know, like the kind ninjas are always using in animes. She also had throwing stars strapped to a sash across her vest.
“Damnit, now I'll need a new roommate.” I said.
“I wouldn't be so sure, Prudie!” she chuckled. She sheathed a kunai and tossed one of her many ninja stars my way, but I took care of it real quick-like, unsheathing my blade as it closed in and slicing it into two metal shards. The half-stars both imbedded themselves in each side of the hallway's white stucco walls with a quiet clink. I stuck my sword out level in front of me and sat the barrel of my gun on it to steady my aim since it was so goddamn heavy. I squeezed the trigger and the gun fired with an enormous bang. The recoil was so strong it about ripped my friggin hand off, but thanks to all the days at the range with Rock I knew how to handle it. The bullet ripped through the air towards Anna. Unfortunatly for me, she swung her kunai with incredible speed and power; knocking the gigantic caliber bullet out of the air causing it to embed itself into the wall, blasting off a huge chunk of white stucco.
“Nice try Prudie-pie, but you'll have to do better than that!” she chortled. I gritted my teeth and holstered my gun. I ran at her at full speed, which for me is pretty damn fast. She ran towards me. With a soft grunt and a leap we were both running on opposite walls of the long hall towards each other, her little black buckled schoolgirl shoes clicking on the stucco, my chuck taylor's making soft thuds. We were close. We both pushed off the wall toward each other. My sword and her kunai met with a ringing clang-- sparks flew when they connected. She stabbed forwards but I pushed her knife away with my Japanese steel. More sparks. She tried to swipe horizontally at me with one kunai but I was too quick for her as I back-flipped away from it, one hand pushing off the musty, flat, brown hall carpet. I landed far enough away to get my Model 500 back out and balance it on my blade. I fired again and this time she wasn't quite quick enough. The bullet just barely grazed her side, cutting her side slightly. Just a little bright crimson blood stained the clean whiteness of her stupid school uniform.
“Haha, that kinda hurt, Prudie-pants!” she snickered, trying to hide her obvious pain. She limped forward, wincing, and swung her kunai at me. I blocked them both with the barrel of my Smith & Wesson. I sliced downward with my sword and it hit right at the shoulder. It went straight through, separating Anna from her own arm. With a soft thunk it hit and bounced of the carpet. Blood sprayed violently from the wound staining the white walls of the hall and puddling on the carpet. She screamed a shrill scream and dropped her kunai knife. She held the wound tightly with her remaining hand. Blood seeped through her long pale fingers. She kept screaming. For a minute I felt horrible. Then I though about Rock.
“Oh god, jesus!” Anna Mae screamed, her face twisting and wrenching with immense pain. “Prudence, you've won! Just finish me! If you don't the Society will!” she moaned, “Finish me with dignity,” she winced. “It's how they do it in the animes.” I held up the Smith & Wesson Model 500 and pointed at her purple-haired head. Boom.
The Society made it look like nothing ever happened. The next day the wall and carpet were spotless-- the blood gone and the walls repaired. All of her stuff mysteriously vanished from our room. My RA even had a talk with me about how my roommate had “transferred.” Sometimes I felt an immense guilt for what I had to do, but when I think about the bastard and what they did to Rock, it goes away, only to be replaced with a white hot rage and an insatiable hunger for revenge. When you get right down to it I had nothing against Anna Mae Westington-- besides her being a totally annoying loudmouth-- but she was in my way on my path to vengeance. It had to be done, and she knew the rules of the club. On top of that, who knows how many throats she had slashed with her own kunai. We were all guilty in the C.E.S..
It was a week before another card appeared in my mailbox. Again a short message in tiny bold Times New.
Time for your second set, Prudence Penny. 1:30am Budokan Auditorium. Today.
Once again dressed the same as my last fight, I made my way to Budokan Auditorium. I reloaded my gun-- and still have seventeen bullets left. This is apparently some place music majors played or something. The room was huge and empty. My soft footsteps echoed throughout the chamber. Rows and rows of theater seating led up to a red curtained stage. I put my hand on my gun as the curtains parted way on the brightly lit stage. Behind the curtain was a drum kit and three guitars perched on stands. That and a humongous red haired man. He was at least six foot four and muscular as hell. He had a round baby face and eyes that were a bright kelly green. He actually looked gentle, maybe even caring. In his hands he held a bright, shiny, silver hammer that was as tall as he was and the head nearly as wide.
“So I guess you're my next opponent then.” I said.
“Yeah. The name's Maxwell. Maxwell Edison. I'm a med student. And you?”
“Prudence Penny.” I felt weird. He seemed like a nice guy.
“Well, Prudence my dear, I guess we should get down to it.” he said with a sly grin. He was kind of charming really. I shook my head, and tried to clear my thoughts. I thought about Rock. He kind of reminded me of Rock, actually.
Clang! Clang! Maxwell brought his hammer down twice onto the stage. It left huge round divets in the wood, cracking and breaking the paneling with pops and snaps.
“Don't let me down,” he said. “It's been a long time since I've had a good fight. He ran at me, his huge tree trunk legs clomping hard on the auditorium stage. He jumped high into the air and brought his silver hammer up way above his head. I cartwheeled to the side and was standing on one of the theater seats. Maxwell's hammer came down right where I was standing, busting another hole in the floor. He lifted up the massive silver hammer and charged at me again. I backflipped into another seat a row over. His hammer crashed into the seat I was on before, completely demolishing it with a loud thundering crash. For some reason I still couldn't get myself to hurt him.
“Maxwell, why did you join the C.E.S.?” I asked between artfully dodging Maxwell's silver hammer. He smirked.
“Do you want to know a secret?” he asked. Another swing, and I quickly dodge. “I killed a lot of people before joining the Society. It's the hammer. Clang, clang. Doesn't it make a wonderful sound?” Another dodge, and another miss for Maxwell. I was shocked. I guess I never said I was a good judge of character. He seemed so nice, and looked so...gentle! I guess they always say it's the one's you last expect. I didn't feel so weird about it anymore-- I gritted my teeth and thought about my revenge. Putting a serial killer to justice was just an added bonus, I guess.
I finally drew my sword and slashed and slashed at the crazy bastard. He blocked with his massive hammer. The two weapons clanged and crashed together as we made our way up and down the auditorium's aisles.
“Haha, the clanging! The beautiful sounds from my hammer! It's like the most beautiful music!! Ahaha!” he laughed maniacally with a wild glint in his eyes. Between blocking the hammer I pulled my gun on Maxwell, but he swung the hammer and connected with my shooting hand. The gun flew out of my hand and crashed onto the stage to our right with a loud steely clank.
“Be careful, you're gonna lose that, girl!” he said between clangs from his hammer. He brought his hammer straight down into the floor again. This time I jumped on top of it, then sprang over his head. I rotated in the air and landed facing Maxwell's back. I manged to get two good slices in, cutting through his gray tank top and leaving two good size gashes in his back back before he managed to turn around and block with the hammer again. I could tell he was really pissed off now. It was hard to keep him from knocking the sword clear out of my hands from his hammer blows.
“You better get back, Prudence or I'm gonna knock you across the universe!” he called out psychotically. “Run for your life!” He crashed his hammer down harder than ever before. It was stuck! Maxwell tried furiously to yank his silver hammer from the ground. I vaulted onto it and jumped over him this time bringing my sword down directly into the top of his head. It pierced his skull and pushed into his head all the way down to the hilt. I landed behind him as gallons of hot red blood fountained out of his head into the air and rained down all over the auditorium. I turned around to watch him take two steps and fall, dropping his hammer with a final loud clang.
“I guess,” he sputtered, coughing blood through reddened teeth, “this is...the end.” Blood continued to rain. Maxwell's killing spree was over and I was his judge, jury, and ex-oh-freaking-cutioner. Only one more member stood before me and sweet revenge. I retrieved my gun and sword, then left in silence. The door closed with loud clank as I left the auditorium, leaving Maxwell's bleeding corpse and wake of broken chairs and destruction behind me.
Again no one was the wiser to the sick game occurring on campus. Budokon auditorium was fully repaired by morning, chairs repaired and blood cleaned. Maxwell was declared missing, but with no leads due to the society's thorough cleaning, nothing ever turned up. I waited with baited breath, like a kid at freaking Christmas for the final letter, because it meant that I could finally finish this and avenge Rock, like I set out to do in the beginning. It was a couple of agonizing weeks before the next little letter showed up.
5am, back to the beginning again, Prudence. Today.
Five in the fucking morning couldn't come fast enough-- I wanted this to be over. Back to the beginning could only mean one thing-- back to Tripe Hall. I got ready as usual, gathered my weapons and remaining bullets and headed back to where all this bullshit began. I kicked open the door to that corner office where I originally met with the bastard that set up this stupid club. The wood door slammed into the wall and shook violently, the glass window rattling loudly as I walked in.
There he was, sitting in his wheeled office chair behind the table just like I left him before. It was the bastard in the dark suit with the bright blue hair.
“Where's my last challenger!?” I yelled. “I want to end this!”
“I'm right here, Prudence.” he answered calmly, “It's me. I'm the one that killed your brother four years ago.”
“Why, you bastard!? What the hell are you trying to accomplish?” I screamed, unsheathing my sword and pointing it at his head. He told me to sit back down and he'd explain. I sheathed my sword and complied.
“When I fought your brother those years ago it was the most exhilarating fight of my life. No battle has ever been so great as the one between Rock and I. That's why I brought you in to this-- fighting you will recapture that thrill, the thrill of battling an equal. A battle with actual challenge, a battle where I feel actual fear again. Now that I've seen you fight two other of my best society members I know you can bring me this challenge I desire.” Then with a smirk he reached under the table and came up with two Single Action Army revolvers, firing them directly at my head. I leaned back in my chair, falling back to dodge his bullets. As the chair and I fell to the floor, I kicked it with all my strength toward the bastard. It crashed into him and knocked him to the floor. We both got up.
“Haha, very good Prudence! Keep going! More!” he said, his eyes lighting up with excitement. He started firing his guns wildly-- but I kept knocking his bullets out of the air with my katana, continuously moving toward him. I got close enough and managed to get a few light slashes in. My sword cut through his suite and left him a little bloodied.
“Yesss, Prudence, hurt me more! Show me the thrill of combat again!” he laughed maniacally. “Let me feel it again!”
I blocked more bullets with my sword until I had an opportunity to unholster and fire my gun. It hit him directly in the chest, knocking him back against the wall. He slowly got back up.
“Haha, nice shot, Prudence!” he laughed. Then he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a kevlar vest. “You think I'd give you a gun and not be prepared for it?” I grimaced. “Let's do away with the guns, shall we? We'll even it up a little bit,” he threw his guns to the floor. I followed suit. I felt like being honorable-- this was revenge after all and what kind of revenge would it be if it was cheap? He pulled a sword almost identical to mine out from behind his filing cabinet. We charged each other, the sounds of our katanas ringing off the bare white walls of the nearly empty room. We were equals in combat. Every slice I made he blocked, and every attack he initiated I parried. We fought and fought until each of us was panting and soaked with sweat.
“This is it, Prudence, this is exactly how I wanted to feel again!” he wheezed, our blades still clashing. “We are true equals in combat!”
I knew we weren't.
I thought back to Rock and us training together. Sparing, laughing, and carrying on together. I thought about all the time we had lost thanks to this bastard and his sick Society. The rage and thirst for revenge once again boiled up inside of me. I found strength inside me that I didn't know was there before. Then I remembered Rock's swordbreaker technique. I used that strength, that inspiration to initiate the technique, swinging with all my might with both hands into the base of his sword. It shattered. He was left nothing but a hilt as the rest of his blade came clattering to the ground.
“Wha-” was all he managed to get out as I made my second slice right at his neck. It slid right through separating his head from the rest of his body. With a hollow thud his head hit the floor. Blood sprayed all about the room, painting the walls and floor. His body crumpled to a heap.
I had won. Rock was avenged. I went back to my room, alone.
Vengeance was a hollow feeling.
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