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“No? How disappointing.” I drawl, allowing my southern accent to come to the forefront. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” I switch my attention to the girl since her chest is heaving erratically. I don’t want her to be scared any further than what she already is.
“Sheraton,” she answers, licking her dry lips. “Please, get him away from me.”
“Gladly,” an enraged Bull says as he joins our group activity. “Sorry, Luca, but I’m going to take this bully off your hands.”
“I understand,” I tell him, because he and Dottie had already called dibs on this kid, she’s going to be his, so it’s only right that I step aside and let him handle this one. There’s plenty of fish in this pond that need to be caught and fileted. “Reel him in, Bull. But when you hook him, make it hurt.”
“It’ll be my pleasure,” Bull roars as he charges forward, and in the blink of an eye, Sheraton is removed from the captor’s hands and gently set to the side. Her synapses come alive and she hauls ass to the corner where nobody’s close to her. She huddles there, watching as we pick off the sick freaks one by one.
“He’s getting away!” Sheraton hollers, and I follow her line of sight. A malicious gleam enters my eyes, and a vindictive smile encompasses my face.
“Not for long, sweetheart,” I vow, my ankles bouncing in anticipation as I come up behind the escapee and wrap the middle of my tie around his neck, yanking him back and choking him. “Now, where are you off to? The fun’s only starting, you can’t miss the grand finale.”
The smell of urine and shit percolates, and I raise my eyebrows at Sheraton in question. She pinches her nose between her two fingers and confirms that the man I’ve confiscated has indeed, pissed and defecated himself. “Gross,” she mouths, fanning her face with her free hand.
“Damn, dude. You reek,” I say as loudly as I can muster. “Weren’t you potty trained? You aren’t supposed to shit your pants.”
“L-let me g-go,” the man stutters. “I-I promise I’ll never come back. I.” He stops, swiping his hands upward and trying to force some slack between his neck and my tie. “I swear to you, I’ll never accept another invitation to another exhibition again.”
“Damn fucking right you won’t. But not because of your own volition, but because you won’t be around to be tempted.” There’s no way a man like him can refuse an invitation of this sort. A zebra’s stripes don’t change color just because he’s had one scare.
With practiced ease, I grab the tail ends of my tie and pull, the pressure causes his esophagus to pop but it’s not enough to kill him… yet, he’ll start to drown in his own fluid. With the need to watch him struggle, I lean around so I can witness his eyes bulge as the veins in his forehead protrude.
“Uh, uh, uh,” I chant. “You aren’t getting off that easy.” I unwrap my tie and with one end, I wrap his wrist together, then I weave it around his neck and knot it with the cuffed end. Every time he moves, he’ll strangle himself, and move he will because I’m about to scuffle with him. Instinctually, he’ll lift his arms to protect himself.
Last time I tussled with my tie, I was too weak and malnourished to enjoy it. But now, my strength has returned, and I’m ready to get down and dirty. I’m primed for battle.
Mera
“Tammera.You have no right coming back here after what you did!” Sister Magda scolds. “Look what we’ve been forced to do because of you and Shayne.” She holds her hands out to her sides like a show hostess, presenting the next prize to be offloaded.
“Whatwemade you do?” I snort. “Don’t victimize yourself, sister. You’re not an innocent in this thing, and youaren’tthe good person you portray yourself as being. You had the same plans in mind when it came to Shayne, only, you were selling her off to her siblings, instead of strangers. You’re the one who doesn’t have the right!”
“I knew the day you were left here that you were no good, that you’d bring trouble to our doorsteps. I should’ve gotten rid of you right away. But sister Agnes thought we could drill the evil out of you. I should’ve listened to my initial instincts. You needed a good belt lashing, not the word of God,” she berates, leering at me.
If she thinks her low opinion of me is going to make me weep and beg for forgiveness, she’s sorely mistaken. “Stop with your boo-hooing, would you? You’re the one who’s rotten to her core. Not me.”
When her arm rears up, and her palm pendulums, preparing to slap me, I know that our commentary is over with. Which is fine with me. As she swings at me, I bend backward, missing her slap—barely, I feel the breeze trickle past my face as her arm bypasses me, causing her to stumble.
Admittedly, the young girl in me that took years of neglect and chastisement from her wants to stick her tongue out at her, put her fingers in her ears and wiggle her fingers, singing, nana-nana-boo-boo. However, the adult in me only wants one thing, and that's to knock the living daylights out of her.
Pleased that she doesn’t make even a trace of contact with my flesh, I gloat, “You’re nothing without that sharp mouth of yours, are you sister? You don’t even have the basic fighting skills. What a shame.”
“Don’t try and use your ridicule on me, girl,” sister Magda heckles, straightening her habit. “I’ve got a black belt in humiliation. Hundreds, if not thousands of kids have come waltzing through these doors, none have managed to slight me, and you won’t be the one who succeeds.”
“Fuck. You.” I sneer, done with our back-and-forth bantering, I swing, only, I don’t miss. When an emboldened red palm print is tattooed on her face, I don’t stop to admire my work, I begin to rain down blows—an open palm here, a closed fist there, and a few kicks added in between. I’m not cognizant of how long we fight for, but when we’re done, and she’s passed out on the floor, my breathing is labored and my muscles are sore.
“A little assist here, Mera,” Charlee calls out, and my eyes snap from one of my three adversaries. Noticing she’s stuck between sisters Agnes and Ann, I don’t stop and think, I charge into the fray.
* * *
Charlee and I lean against the wall, all of the teens standing between us, as we watch Luca mess with his quarry. He’s being vindictive, making the man choke himself every time he goes to defend himself.
It’s quite entertaining.
“I would’ve never thought about using that form of punishment before. I’ll give him this, it’s inventive,” I admit to Charlee.
“I hope he chokes,” Tala exclaims.
