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Certainly one of the weirdest things I've ever written. I have the feeling it's terribly confusing, too. Oh well. I want to see what you get out of it.
How can You twist so easily? Don't try to stare Me down, with your red Eyes and gaping Mouth or the red Sky behind You, spread with black Clouds and Smoke.
You can't phase Me. You won't phase Me.
I can feel my finger on the cold metal in my lap. How easy it would be to shoot out the leviathan's eyes, the four letters engraved on its marble visage: Bank. That is what this place is, its glorious curse and terrible blessing. Tell me, my towering friend, how many people have passed safely through your doors? How many men, women, children, old farts, Christians, Jews, Indians, aliens?
"Too bad your streak is over." I laugh, then tuck the bang-stick beneath my jacket. Climbing out of the car, I cast one last glance at the lemon-yellow SUV I tailed to this wretched establishment.
The Door tries to snap at Me as I approach, but I glare at the glass Eyes and their Pupils disappear. Inside, the tile floor is like a snake's skin, black and white scales extending to the walls, the desks, the feet of the patrons.
Those, I scan: the feet. I daren't look up for fear of someone noticing my innocent face. I see the shoes. The ones I bought for her, my May. Like two Denizens of bitter humiliation, They laugh, their Soles growing sharp Teeth. The slender Legs attached to them, the Feet beneath the Straps: They don't notice. But They're glowing, smooth and tan.
I bring my eyes upwards, away from the Sight, to the denim skirt—one I don't recognize. Little details, the smallest things: Shorter. Darker denim. More faded areas. Two buttons. Frayed edges. A flashy teal belt, matching the shadow of the writing on her tight, aqua shirt. What has she become? Who is this impuriTy laughing with her arm locked with another man's?
Not May. Not my May.
Clenching my jaw, I turn my gaze on the Devil beside Her, the laughing Face with the sharp white Fangs and the Eyes that shine like Rubies. This is the "other Man". The "not Me".
How easy it would be to pull out my gun, shoot him dead. Take from her what she took from me. Keep still, you slimy thing. You monster. Let me point the shattered remains of my heart at you and let them explode. Let the pieces pierce your torso and kill you slowly. Feel what I feel.
But no. I can't. Not yet.
Wait, my pretTy.
I take a step forward, then another and another until I'm standing behind my Angel. "Bonjour," I say into Her ear.
She whirls around. She is shocked. Her arm whips out of his and falls to her side. How could she think I don't know? She smiles at him the same way she used to smile at me. She does the same things with him when the night is dark as she once did with me.
I've noticed the difference. I'm not stupid.
"Steven," she says. As if I would be anyone else. Ty jumps. Coward. Devils don't jump. Even as he says my name, I can see his mind working for an excuse. One for being with my girl.
"Save it," I say before he opens his mouth; I pull out my gun and point it at his head. People scream and drop to the floor. They've been watching too many TV shows.
"Against the wall," I shout, hearing my voice echo around the large room. No doubt someone behind the counter has pressed the emergency button before they move to where I point.
Ty stays still. As he should. One move from him and I will kill him. He doesn't dare breathe. Although I must thank him for coming between the shifts of the guards. A wonderful move on his part.
I tell two tellers to close and lock the doors. Once that's done, they return to the wall, where all the patrons are lined up like an identiTy parade.
"Do you want the money?" a third teller asks, standing. "I'll get you the money."
"I don't want the money." I don't take my eyes from Ty's face, round like a China Doll, so easy to shatter into a million Pieces.
The teller continues to the desk, repeating, "I'll get you the money."
"Sit," I say to her. She keeps going. "I don't want the money, you whore. Just sit down." For a split second, I turn the gun from Ty's face and shoot the Whore leaning over the Desk. She screams as the bullet pierces her arm. But I get my point across. She takes a seat by the wall, sobbing, her baby's Face red.
"Steven," Ty says, his hands in the air. "You don't want to do this."
"I think I do," I reply, "or else I wouldn't be standing here."
"Okay. Calm down." He takes a deep breath and steadies his voice. "What do you want?"
I sneer. "You know what I want, you bastard. Stop screwing my girl."
"She's not your girl anymore," Ty says matter-of-factly. He's not scared. I see that as his China doll's Face turns confident, like Harrison Ford, Indiana Jones—unafraid. He even has the Hat. Amusing.
I stick out my chin. "Really?" I say haughtily. Jerking my head to the left to look at May, I wait for her answer.
She's frightened, a beautiful Doe caught in my Headlights. I try to soften my eyes, but She remains petrified.
"You're insane, Steven!" she finally yells, sobbing. "I couldn't stand it anymore."
"So you go and fuck my best friend?" I turn the gun on her, taking aim at the center of her forehead. Wretched Loviatar, blind Goddess, Hurt, Pain, Thunder. Whip, Chains, Leather. BeauTy clad in bitter Disgrace. Look no more at me, you wicked Thing.
"Steven." Ty calls my name as he charges at me. What is he doing? I've got the gun.
No fear for his life.
He knocks me to the ground, sending the weapon sliding across the floor as I reach desperately for it. I hear sirens. They're getting closer. I need control.
I fear for my life.
I am Immortal. Can Ty not see that? Not see Me, the Way I can change into whatever I wish? Insane, pathetic little bastard, he is.
But could it be that he is the same as me? I try to struggle, but he doesn't falter. He's a Dog, perched on my chest, clawing at my face.
And yet I don't bleed. I kick and reach for the gun, but I don't scream as I catch lights in the corner of my eye. I can do this. I can kill him and make it out alive.
I am Immortal.
I know That.
I throw Ty off my body, stealthily reaching for the bang-stick as I move behind a desk. Then I point the weapon at him, Iku-turso to Loviatar, father of the Nine Diseases. Which disease is this, I wonder? Paise, the ulcer? Yes, the ulcer.
"On the ground, Ty," I yell as I hear hundreds of car doors slamming outside. I daren't raise my head above the desk. "May…Against the wall. Now." I'm not afraid to shoot either one of them. I'd be glad to shoot both. Right in their Third Eye. I close one eye and aim jokingly at Ty's forehead, then I hear the megaphone from outside: "This is the Police. We have the Building surrounded. Come out with your Hands up."
Ty looks to the door, but I daren't follow his eyes. I can't shoot him, either. Not unless I want to end up dead. And I don't.
The cop outside repeats his Spiel, then waits. I hear rustling and glance over to see my Audience shuffling, their eyes darting nervously between me and the cops outside.
"Move and I'll shoot you," I yell to them, pointing the gun in their direction as icing. Carefully, swiftly, I move from the desk to another, closer to the Audience. May watches, worried as I point the gun at her new fuck-buddy.
"Tell me why, May," I say, not looking at her. Instead, I pull my knees up and suspend the weapon between them in my hands. Ty is a Worm on the ground, pink and vulnerable. One shot, and I can kill him. One shot. "May," I repeat.
"I told you why," she says. "You're not stable. You're scaring me."
"I'm supposed to scare you." Abruptly, I face her, the gun still on Ty. "Give me the real reason."
"That is the real reason," she sobs. She's got her face covered with her hands. "What do you want to hear from me?"
"That's not your reason. That's not your real fucking reason," I yell at her. I turn the bang-stick on her. "You don't love me anymore. Admit it."
"No, Steven." She moves closer to me, her hands pulling on the floor as she slides on her knees. She thinks I won't shoot her. "You don't understand. I do love you. Just not like I did before. Can you put the gun down?"
I grin bitterly. Lies. All lies. "Tell me the truth, damn it."
"I don't love you anymore. It's a lie, but it's what you want to hear. Can we go home now? Sort this all out?" She drags herself closer.
The phone rings, behind the cashiers' desk. I jump. So does May.
Falling back beneath the desk, I point the gun at Ty again. "Answer it."
"Steven—"
"Answer it." I cock the gun.
Carefully, Ty pushes himself up from the floor, his hands held in the air as he comes into view of the police. I tell him to lower them, and he seems to realize he has a higher risk of being shot by me than by the police, so he listens. As he approaches the phone, he reaches tentatively toward it, using the distance of his reach as a sort of way to get around my command for him to keep his hands down. I cock my head.
He doesn't say hello when he answers. Instead, he listens for a few moments, and it kills me not knowing what he's hearing. Then he just starts talking: "I'm not your man. Steven Russo is. He's narcoleptic. He doesn't know wha—"
I shoot him, the little bastard. Right in the gut. No qualms. No nothing.
He crumples to the ground as May screams his name. She's got a Southern Accent. Dark gray Hair. Medium gray Skin. Rhett! If You go, where shall I go? What shall I do? He's still got his eyes open, Scarlett. Don't get your frilly little Knickers in a Twist.
She crawls to him, her long Skirt dragging on the floor. Then she lifts his head into her lap, the way she used to do for me when my medication made me sick.
"No!" I scream pathetically, my voice painfully high. I switch on the gun's safeTy and tuck the weapon into my pocket, then crawl across the floor toward her. I don't care about being shot. I want my May to come back to me, at whatever cost.
The Audience moves away from me as I near, still wary of my weapon. May is crying, but not for me. I will make her cry for me. I will make her come to my arms, leave my former best friend on the curb until he dies a painful death.
He won't make it out of here alive. I'll make sure of that.
I take May by the shoulders and pull her away from the slimy Snake bleeding on the floor. She's in color now, with flushed skin and auburn hair. So beautiful.
"Stand up, Scarlett," I yell in her face, dragging her up and pushing her into the wall. "Love me, Scarlett. Not him. He's no good. He can't give you what I've given you."
"You've given me nothing, Steven," she says back, her voice quiet.
I let out a bark of laughter and grip her left wrist tightly, bringing it up as I say, "What about your ring? We were going to get married. See?"
Her ring is gone. Just gone. Her skin is as pale is it's always been. Her Dress melts around her body, revealing a dark denim skirt and an aqua shirt that reads Love will save us.
If only it could.
But whatever the whole thing means to me, May, and Ty is overshadowed by the fact that it doesn't matter a single whit to any of the people it should matter to. The Audience, the patrons and tellers lined up against the wall, watching with wide eyes. They should care. They should care about me.
But they don't.
"I love you, May," I say. I can barely hear my own voice. "I want to spend my life with you."
She leaves her wrist in my grip. My fingers are beginning to hurt. "I can't spend mine with you," she says, looking straight into my eyes. "It started out amazing, but then you changed. Maybe if you'd stayed on your medication—"
"Don't make this my fault." I release her wrist in favor of her shoulder. "Don't make this my fault," I shout as I shake her vigorously.
Then I hear the shot. The one that pierces my side before I even register it. I scream and let go of May, backing away as I hastily examine my side.
Then I hear a second shot, and feel it enter straight into my abdomen. Ty's got the gun. I can see him now. I rush my hand from my side to my pocket and find my weapon missing. He must've taken it when I pulled May away.
The third shot goes into my chest, knocking me backwards. They hurt. All of them. They're combining into one ache that covers my whole body. I can't breathe, can't swallow. As blood comes to my mouth, I let it there, unable to do anything else with it.
May kneels beside me, her face mortified. She's sobbing again, harder than she was for her precious Ty. Now it's for me. For me. Finally.
"Steven," she says, the Halo once again over her head, her godly Innocence returned. She takes my hand and holds it to her face, where through the fog of pain I feel her tears. "I never stopped loving you, Steven. It just…changed forms." She leans forward and presses her forehead to mine. "Oh God, Steven. I'm so sorry. I never…I never planned for this to happen."
I open my eyes and the place is dark, with flashing fluorescent Lights and a low bass Note that throbs in my ears. I feel like dancing to the enchanting Atmosphere of the Discothèque, to the thick Confusion and Disorientation, but all I can do is choke on blood. I can feel my body shutting down, my breath picking up and becoming shallower.
This won't last forever. I should have known that when I walked into this place, this mess. Eventually, all will fall to glass, and you're left staring at the shards as they rise into smoke. They won't come back. Nothing can be whole again. Nothing can be like it was before. I know that as the Discothèque brightens and is stormed by police.
A low, techno Voice sounds as numerous footsteps vibrate the floor beneath me: "This is the Police speaking. This Club is closed. Forever." With that voice in my ears and May's face near mine, I simply give up. My May still loves me. She still loves me.
References within the story:
-Gone With the Wind
-"In the Home of the Mountain King (techno remix)"
-Finnish mythology
