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[right][sub][i][color=C789B1]April 14
Blake Motel - 2:32am[/color][/i][/sub][/right]
[hr]

[i]chk....chk...chk...[/i]

The sound of the gun clicking resonated along the walls like they were taunting her.

The night had already been penetrated by the sound of the shot before. She felt warm. A mix of relief and the blood that was on her hands. Figuratively and literally. She fought off a chuckle at that thought. Right now wasn't a laughing matter.

Or was it? A monster was dead. Did the heroes not cheer in the stories of old when they defeated the Big Bad? Did they not rejoice and throw parties to celebrate the death? Surely she was allowed that much.

[I]"Oh sweet pea.."[/i]

Belladonna froze. It was a nickname she dreaded despite its sweet nature. Only on person called her that and right now he had a bullet hole in his temple. She glanced over slowly to the chair he always sat in, glass of whiskey in his hand, the remote in the other. He was dead.

She felt the hands on her first. Then she smelled the breath, a mix of alcohol and bile. She fell back, but the force fell also on top of her. She looked into her father's eyes. No, this was not her father. It was someone else. Some[I]thing[/i] else. Dark voids filled its eyes, black ooze out of his mouth. Sharp teeth that looked like it could clean an arm off. His skin was sickly, gray and worn.

[I]"You killed me! You suffer!"[/i]

She fought hard. She tried to push him off to no avail. She reached for something, anything, to get him off but everything was out of reach. She tried to scream but only a choking sound exited her lips. The being laughed.

[I]"Suffer...."[/i]

And it opened its mouth, black ooze pouring out and swallowing her whole.

[hr]

Belladonna woke up with a start, shooting up in the bed the paid for. She felt her hands shaking so she clenched her fists five times like she was taught. She took some deep breaths, in the nose for five, out the mouth for five. She looked around the cheap motel room. The curtains made of itchy fiber, the carpet even worse. The TV that looked like it jumped out of a Sears Catalog from 1984. She was safe.

Or rather she was safe-ish. That's the word she used constantly. Safe-ish. It felt correct considering she wasn't safe anywhere really. What woman was nowadays? The nightmare felt so real. It wasn't the first time she saw him in her dreams. It was the first time he looked like that though. Sometimes her mother was there, a look of disappointment on her face. Sometimes her sisters were there, crying and screaming at her. Sometimes she was there and she saw her younger self, a creepy smile on her face afterwards.

Regardless, she was safe-ish. Sleep would be hard to gain back. But she had to try. She had to be up for work in three hours.

[hr]

[right][sub][i][color=C789B1]April 14
Twin Pines Diner - 6:49am[/color][/i][/sub][/right]

"Miss, more coffee."

Belladonna leaned against the counter. She heard the words but it went in one ear and out the other. She felt the itchy uniform press against her skin. The skirt too short considering the amount of leaning and bending over she had to do.

"Miss, coffee!"

Belladonna glanced over at the voice attached to the man who looked like he had as much audacity as his tone suggested. She grabbed the coffee pot on her right and walked over. She tipped it into the man's mug slowly. She felt his eyes on her and inching ever so slowly downward. She felt a chill. [color=C789B1]"Anything else I can get you sir?"[/color]

The man smiled and showed his teeth, or lack thereof. God the amount of things going in his head. "Just a smile sweetheart." Belladonna felt her body retch. Did he take that from "How To Be a Douchebag: The Novel"? She imagine dumping the rest of the hot coffee on his lap, doing womankind a favor, but fought it. She needed the job. At least for a few more weeks. Enough to pay for another motel or bed and breakfast father away. 

So she smiled. She hated herself, but she smiled. "That's a good girl."

She turned and felt a hand on her ass. She paused, thinking. Did that just happen?

She turned around and looked at the man who looked like a kid caught with his hand on the cookie jar. Appropriate imagery.

[color=C789B1]"Sir, please do not touch me again."[/color] Her tone was neutral despite the fire in her eyes. She didn't want to cause trouble and get fired, but something had to be done. A few other patrons looked over. She was sure they saw what he had done, but were silent. Perhaps because they didn't want to cause a scene. Perhaps because they agreed that a woman's body was not her own. Or perhaps they were all slimeballs.

"What are you going to do darling? Call the police?" His words held a thinly-veiled threat. [b]'Go ahead. Call them. I either have them in my pocket or they won't care one way or the other.'[/b]

So Belladonna turned around, ready to get back to dissociating the rest of her shift. Until she heard the man open his fat, fucking mouth again.

"That's right, bitch."

It was like everything went dark. She heard the sound of glass breaking. She heard the scream. But she didn't see it until her vision came back. The man was keeled over, grabbing his face, screaming like he had been stabbed. But no, he had not been stabbed. She saw the stains on his shirt, a new one joining the party. She saw the glass coffee pot on the ground. She knew what she had done.

"AHHH FUCKING BITCH I'LL KILL YOU GOD DAMMIT!"

She looked around, wondering what to do. Did she run? Did she wait to see what happened? She knew it was only a matter of time before the man got up and came at her. She grabbed the handle of the broken coffee pot, seeing the jagged edges of glass along it. If she had to, she would defend herself. She would leave quickly. She didn't have much with her anyway and she paid for a few nights at the motel. 

The bastard deserved it. She knew he did.

Fuck.