She’s a Runner
Page 1
She’s A Runner
Daughters Of Medusa
Bri Amari
Contents
Pre-Story Narrative
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
The End
Pre-Story Narrative
Killing any man who deemed you worthy of a seductive glance, made for a really lonely life.
But that was the hand I was dealt. And, didn’t that just fucking suck.
I didn’t know what was wrong with me, honestly. All I know for sure is that I’d killed before. Never on purpose, of course, but their lives ended because of me, and I couldn’t, and wouldn’t run from that.
Alas, I digress.
The first death was when I was only sixteen. Joey Asher had asked me to the grade 10 prom, and his parents hadn’t been home when it was over. I was ready, he was ready. That was going to be my big night.
As soon as things got heated between us I felt a shivering tingle as it ran through my body. Thinking that it was what lust felt like, I pierced Joey with a shocked expression, and he returned it. As I started to smile, I realized he had not.
One thing led to another, he wouldn’t move, not even blink. I screamed, I cried, I called the fucking authorities like a good little girl from the suburbs.
The doctors - after keeping him for some time, and consulting many, many outside experts - diagnosed him with an unexplained brain failure that induced a coma. The paralysis however they could not explain. His body was contorted into an uncomfortable position and no amount of help from the medical staff changed that. It was as if his body had turned to stone.
The doctors could say what they wanted. In that moment, young me knew it was her damn fault that the star musician of our school, was a vegetable. A rock hard vegetable.
Then it happened again two years later.
When I was eighteen, my friend of six years, the guy who helped me through all the awkward stages of high school, finally confessed he liked me more than friends. I trusted him, I was comfortable with him, so why not try it, right? Wrong.
I had moved passed Joey Asher, and the trauma his illness caused, but when Darren leaned in to kiss me, eyes on mine, a familiar feeling tingled through me. I tried to stop it, I really had. I slammed my eyes shut, and pushed back from my long time friend.
It was too late.
He stood there completely still, hand still up where it had rested on my cheek, his other down by his side. If it hadn’t been so unnerving and terrifying I may have laughed at his frozen duck face. But as it were, I ran. I ran, and ran, and ran.
I never returned home. My parents never heard from me again. My friends mourn me, and my enemies rejoiced. Me? I tried to end myself, over and over until I gave up. Whatever was wrong with me, it wouldn’t let me die. At least, not by my own hand.
I didn’t want to kill ever again, but life on the run is lonely, and sometimes I found a friend in the bottom of a shot glass. I didn’t make good choices when I was drunk. Hell, who did?
I killed twice more before I was twenty four - one deserved it for sure, the other I still regret to this day - and then I finally gained control of my life. I dropped my name, sold all my possessions, and left my childhood in history. I bought a new wardrobe, upgraded my old beater for a run of the mill, newer Civic, and hit the road. If I kept my gaze to myself, and didn’t form attachments I would be fine.
I lived my life day to day, nomadic, and free. If I couldn’t have others in my life, I was sure as fuck going to enjoy my solitude.
Now, I go clubbing and rejoice in dancing my guilt away. I hike into the untouched wilderness and thrive on the adrenaline of being lost. I swim in alligator infested waters. I smoke pot, and eat all the junk food. I’ve written two books, one song, and three threatening letters to CEOs who were going to damage the earth or die trying. They had thought twice about moving forward with that damage. After all, a threat from someone with nothing to lose is scary. Being no one did have its advantages.
I only wished I could put a notch in that vCard. I know, I know, just close my eyes, right? But you try to remember that when you’re all revved up and ready, and wanting to devour every sight. Go on, I dare you. Then walk around with lady blue balls like me, and see if you don’t just swear off trying.
I’m Medoe Remes. Welcome to my fucked up life, and my even more fucked up mind. Please fasten your seatbelts, and keep your arms, and legs, in at all times. Don’t feed the voices, drink the animals, or talk to the water.
Anyhoe, that’s where we are now. Enjoy my disaster of a life!
Chapter 1
The beat was pumping through my body. The lights flashed dizzily, and the bodies that surrounded me paid me no individual attention. We swayed together like the ocean, tides going one way, and wind flowing the other. Separate yet together, all one pulse.
This city was just one of many I didn’t remember the name of. There was no point in remembering a place when I’d leave it with the next moon phase.
It felt like hours had passed before I gave in, and trudged my way to the bar. I flicked the bartender a peace sign, he knew what I wanted. I had to keep my eyes on the bar, just in case. Two shots of Captain slid my way, down the marbled bartop, and I caught them with one hand.
The burn was real, and the aftermath from the taste woke me back up. I turned and leaned my back against the bar rail. I scanned out over the tops of the throbbing crowd, so long as I didn’t make eye contact I would be fine. Lasers beamed against all four walls and glitter sparkled on the floor.
This was living. I could feel the life in this room, surrounding me, vibrating with vitality. Long neon yellow silk banners hung around the room’s walls like booths, giving semi-private kind-of rooms to those who were done dancing but not done moving.
Normally, bodies writhed inside those secluded areas, but tonight one was suspiciously empty - besides the one body leaned up against the wall, scanning the crowd. A lot like I was. His clothes gave me a bad vibe, they didn’t flow with the club goers. They were all black, worn leather and cotton. Bland, Dangerous. Which would be absurd, yeah?
A thought clucked through my mind correcting me. Why would that be absurd? People of all walks of life were running from something, avoiding someone, or denying some dark things. It would be absurd to assume I was the only one.
Dismissing the man I turned back to the bar and signalled the bartender again. My head bobbed to the upbeat song the DJ had just blended into, and I waited for my drinks. The tender seemed busier than normal and I was in no rush.
I felt a body brush against mine and counted to three. I’d punched one too many people who were honestly just trying to get by me. When the presence didn’t leave I spun on the pervert - with some sense of sick entitlement - to confront him. I felt the shiver that alerted me of my curse start, and immediately stopped in my tracks , looked to the floor, and addressed the asshole.
It was hard to be threatening when you looked like a submissive twat who wouldn’t even look a man in the eye. Well I could, but for some reason the chance of him turning to stone depended on his lust level, and I couldn’t have that blood on my hands.
“You need to fuck off buddy. I ain’t interested, no matter how charming you think you are. Beat it.” I spun around, grabbed the shot waiting for me and downed it. He would push off, or he would regret it.
Gods that had been careless. Freezing a man in front of so many people would have been disastrous, for me, and for them. Gods only knew who else would be frozen in time and space in my attempts to get away.
I had to get out of here.
Turning on my heel I charged through the throng of people, pushing bodies out of my path, and muttering apologies along the way.
I got my full length coat and barged towards the doors in a foul mood. It had been such a good night, and now, we’ll now it just wasn’t.
I turned onto the street, still at a brisk pace, letting my anger boil out into the night air. At first I thought the small hairs on the nape of my neck standing up was just the brisk night air against the sweat I’d built up in the club, but I wiped the back of my neck and my hand came back dry.
I looked behind me suspiciously. Nothing. Turning back around I admonished myself for being paranoid. The feeling however did not cease. I was sure the dark empty street and the absent moon weren’t helping.
I kept my pace quick. If I could reach my hotel I could grab my things and be in the first cab out of this place. Then I could relax again, for a little while at least.
Lost in my head, and ignoring the warning signs, I didn’t detect the man who surprised me and threw me up against a brick wall I was passing. The rough surfaces grabbed the silky fabric of my long coat. I struggled to get away but it was no use, the man was built like a Mack truck. He dragged my useless body into the alleyway.
I looked up to his face, hoping that maybe there would be lust there, and he could get what his woman-harassing ass deserved, but there was nothing. Well not nothing, just nothing I wanted to see. Instead there was malice, or hatred. Maybe it was disgust.
I studied the hard edges of his face and a scar on his chin, then lower. His clothes looked familiar. It was then that I realized I’d seen this man in the club. All. By. Himself. Black leather uniform and sinister vibe, check double fucking check.
I knew the dude had to have been suspicious then, now I guess I knew why I’d been so sure inside. Sorry paranoia, I won’t doubt you again.
“Abomination!” he spat.
“Excuse you?” What the hell was wrong with this guy? I was going to continue an epic tear down rant when I felt the cold edge of a blade slip through my trench, and rest against the bare flesh of my stomach. “Listen dude, whatever you want, take it. You want cash, it’s in my pocket. My jewellery is all fake and I don’t carry a purse. This was a pretty badly planned robbery if you ask me.” I mentally punched myself in the cooch. Don’t antagonize the villain with the knife.
The man's face snarled up. “I’m not going to rob you, filth. I’m here to end you.”
An evil grin started sprawling across the man's face and the pressure on the knife grew stronger. I prayed. I didn’t know who to, but I knew that if I didn’t, no one else would help me. I isolated myself. I didn’t form connections. No one would even notice I was missing. I didn’t want it to end like this. I’d grown to accept and love my life, even if I was lonely.
Seconds ticked by and I couldn’t understand why nothing was happening. He was here to kill me, right? So why draw it out. I drew in a deep breath and took a last stab in the dark at saving myself.
“Rapist! Get him! Rapist! Don’t touch me, let me go!” I screamed with all the air I was holding. It’s flow cut off in an instant as a gnarled hand, the one not holding a knife to my sustenance digester, slammed down over my mouth, gnashing my teeth together.
That was it, my last chance. I felt the metal edge grow heavier against my skin. I closed my eyes, resigned to my fate. There was no way I was overpowering this man, and I couldn’t even rely on my cursed superpower for help.
A warm dribble of what I assumed was my own blood started its journey down towards my navel. I could picture it in my mind, sliding across my skin, maneuvering around the small thin hairs that adorned a person's skin, only to hit a brick wall as it comes to the hem of my bottoms, its journey over. Kind of like mine, right now. It had been a good ride, I guess.
Someone was bound to catch up with me someday. I sighed, resigned. My attacker felt the fight leave my body, and pressed ever closer. I could tell he was soaking in every moment, enjoying his kill. I didn’t open my eyes. I didn’t want to see the joy he was getting out of this mess. I could smell his breath though, and he really needed a mint.
“Hey! Hey you! What are you doing to that girl!?” A voice called, echoing into the night. I felt the cold air sharply through my nose, and goose pimples pebbled over my skin. My eyes flew open of their own accord, but didn’t search out the interruption.
My attacker turned his head at the distraction, giving me a chance. I brought one of my hands down as quickly as I could on his wrist and pushed his knife hand away from me with the other. I felt the knife slice me on its way out, but with the weapon farther away I grew more confident. His hand fell away from my face, and at the same time I dove forward, biting him as hard as I could on the neck, and kneed him in the baby-maker.
I heard the knife clang to the sidewalk, and dashed away as quickly as I could. I looked ahead to where the passerby - my would be saviour, if I weren’t a badass bitch who took opportunity when it came knocking - was standing tensely. He was attractive, well built, well dressed, and dripping in con opportunities. I gave him a quick wave, and ran toward my hotel.
In the distance I could hear Saviorboi call after me. “Miss! You’re bleeding! Miss, come back I’ll call you a cab, you need medical help!”
Ignoring his call I kept running. One foot in front of the other, over and over again. That’s how I survived.
Chapter 2
After I’d gotten to the hotel I calmed down. Throwing my neon pink wig and wedges on the bed, I started stripping off my club clothes and headed for a nice, hot shower.
With the water beating down on me, I was able to clear my mind. I wasn’t the first woman to be assaulted in the darkened streets, and I wouldn’t be the last.
His words replaying in my head, however, stayed with me. Echoing. Haunting.
Abomination. Filth. End you.
He couldn’t be sane. How was I an abomination? Underneath the crazy wigs, clothes I wore, and makeup I used to blend in, or change my look, I was just a normal girl.
Okay maybe not exactly normal. Still, hardly what I’d call an abomination. Thick brown shoulder length hair, blue eyes, medium build and height, nothing that would give away the fact that I had secrets.
And I hadn’t let my secret out, not once, not ever.
When he said he was here to end me, he’d meant it. The hatred in his eyes told me that much. And the evil grin told me he was going to enjoy it.
What had I ever done to him? Just another question I couldn’t answer. Didn’t want to answer, did I? Maybe? I didn’t know, not really.
Oh my blasted, confusing life.
I got out of the shower, tended my wound - which was not as bad as I’d thought, only a couple stitches which I could take care of myself without a hospital - toweled off and crawled into bed. Tomorrow I would pack my things, bring out my map, and throw a dart at it.
The morning brought with it less anxiety, and a feeling of rightness. I had made the right decision, it was time to leave this place.
I threw on my sneakers and a light sweater, pulled my hair back, and made my way to the lobby. I needed coffee before I started packing. After a full night of sleep, and some time to calm myself, the sense of urgency had faded down to a dull thud.
The hotel itself wasn’t very fancy, but they made up for it with style. They didn’t have large marble columns from ceiling to floor in the middle of the huge lobby, but rather half columns, made of plaster every ten feet or so in their modest lobby. They didn’t have golden plated everything, but the silver and copper accents around the room felt homey and magical.
I liked it. I’d stopped through th
is place before, and I always broke protocol to stay here. Rule #11: Never revisit the same hotel. But rules are meant to be broken, right?
It was the same with the coffee shop down the street.
As I entered the fresh late spring air, I took a deep breath through my nose. The hotel had a ridiculous amount of flowers between their doors and the sidewalk. It always smelled of subtle perfume for a moment before the city took over my senses.
I turned onto the sidewalk and started towards Silas’s. It was the cutest little locally owned coffee shop, where you could get a cup and sit down with a book from the small library, work on your laptop with the free wifi, or get it to go. But I always sat in, when I was around.
The man behind the counter made me comfortable. I’d met him for the first time two years ago. I’d looked into his face for the first time a year ago, after I realized he’d never made a pass at me, or made me feel like he was attracted to me. I was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t statue up.
“Hey Silas!” I said as I walked in. “I’ll have my regular, extra shot of the java though, had a hard night.”
Silas smiled at me and gave me a nod before going to work on my drink. I took the time to find a comfy chair, and a book. Moments later Silas arrived with my drink and set it down on the table.
I looked up, confident that he was safe. “Thanks, I really needed this. Got some packing to do.”
Silas’ face fell. “Leaving again so soon?” He sat down in the chair beside me and threw his hand towel over his shoulder. He never asked what took me out of town, or into town in this case.