Domino, stunned by Carrie’s profanity, still chose to glance towards the door first. It was gone.
He turned back to the kids. They were gone.
He looked down in his arms. Patrick was gone.
Domino whirled in all directions, the room still as dark as night.
“Hello?” he called. “Where did everybody—?”
(you didn’t really think they were here did you?)
“I don’t…I don’t,” he muttered to himself.
(you know what the situation is here. Why are you letting it happen?)
“I didn’t…I’m not…”
“Who are you talking to?” Amy asked.
Domino spun and Amy was there.
(she’s not real)
“You’re not real.”
Amy frowned and looked herself up and down. “I’m not?”
Domino hit her. She flew back against the wall and slid to the floor. She cupped both hands over her bloodied face.
Domino ran to her. “Amy! Amy I’m so sorry…”
Amy took her hands away from her face and began licking the blood with a tantalizing grin. She stood and was suddenly nude. Eyes closed and moaning, she began wiping blood across her breasts and groin like some type of perverse lubricant.
“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been fucked?” she said, eyes still closed, one hand kneading her breast, the other below, two fingers working on herself.
“Amy…”
“Please, Domino…” she breathed, masturbation climbing in intensity. “The least you could do is fuck me.”
“Amy, stop.”
Amy moaned louder, her two fingers working faster. “Pleeeeease…”
“STOP!”
A blink and Amy was clothed again. No traces of blood. She looked furious. “So you let my husband die, but now you won’t fulfill my needs? What kind of man are you?”
Domino scrunched his eyes shut and gripped both sides of his head. “You’re not real.”
No response.
He opened his eyes and saw why. Patrick was back, at the far end of the room. Amy and the kids were running to him. They collided together in a loving embrace, Patrick kissing Amy on every inch of her face, then bending to do the same to both Carrie and Caleb. Amy was crying with joy. Patrick was crying with joy. The kids were clamped around their father’s waist and crying with joy.
Domino’s heart swelled. His tears returned.
The family walked together towards the door. And there was a door, a big open door. Amy went first. Then Carrie. Then Caleb. Then—
The door slid shut with a deafening boom, the locks clanking immediately after, sealing Patrick in. He immediately began banging on the door. Domino could hear Amy and the kids banging and yelling on the other side.
Help him.
(help him how?)
Patrick turned from the door and faced Domino. He splayed his hands, his face confused. Two bullets thumped into his chest, spraying blood and launching him backwards to the floor in a heap.
Domino ran and dropped to his friend’s side yet again.
(why are you bothering?)
Patrick coughed blood. Domino put pressure on the wounds, but his hands sank into Patrick’s chest, crushing his sternum, making it all worse. Patrick vomited blood into the air like a fountain, spraying Domino’s face.
“Oh Jesus! Oh God!” Domino said, pulling his hands from his friend’s chest.
The hole in Patrick’s chest began widening like an ember hitting paper, the flesh being eaten away before Domino’s eyes.
Amy’s scream wrenched Domino’s neck. The door was open again. Amy and the kids were back. Domino’s eyes were wide and terrified as he gaped helplessly at them. He raised both hands in innocence; they dripped Patrick’s blood and gore.
“You’re killing him again!” Amy screamed.
Domino shook his head incessantly.
Carrie and Caleb clutched Amy’s waist and sobbed.
Patrick gasped and choked on his own blood. Amy shoved Domino out of the way. She and the kids surrounded Patrick’s dying body. Domino could only sit back on his butt and watch like a helpless child.
Amy eventually stood, her clothes now soaked in her dead husband’s blood. She turned slowly and loomed over Domino, the kids still crying and clutching their father’s body behind her.
“You killed him again,” she said.
Domino, mouth open, eyes wide, could only shake his head like the helpless child.
Amy turned and started the process of pulling her kids off their father. They screamed and kicked in protest, calling out for him. When she had each by the arm, she dragged them through the open door, their cries echoing then fading then gone.
The door slammed shut. The locks clanked. Domino crawled towards Patrick. He was not dead yet. Domino cradled him in his arms. Patrick looked up at him with fading eyes. “I hate you,” he said. Then died—again.
Domino lowered Patrick’s head to the floor and rolled onto his back. He stared at the ceiling and saw a circle of swirling black and purple appear in the darkness. The circle grew larger as it spiraled, the ceiling like a galaxy, the circle a black hole, collapsing inward, beckoning. Domino reached his good arm for it, hoping it would swallow him and take him away.
What kind of man are you?
He stretched his arm further, desperate for the hole to snare him.
I hate you.
The door leading to Ben clanked then opened. A tall rectangle of light appeared. The black hole vanished, and Domino’s body went slack, his arm slapping the concrete as it fell in defeat. He rolled towards the tall rectangle of light, squinted then gawked at it, hoping it was another portal of sorts that might take him.
Monica’s lean silhouette appeared in the rectangle as she leaned against the door jam. She whistled and called to Domino like a dog, patting her thigh. “Here, boy!”
Domino started crawling towards the Ben door.
75
Domino crawled into the Ben room. Ben was there, tied up and gagged in a chair as he’d been before.
“Here, boy!” Monica said again, patting her thigh.
Domino crawled further. Monica approached, bent and took hold of Domino’s chin. She lifted it and stared into his eyes.
(get up)
“Still dilated,” she said with a smile. “What did you see in there, little fella?” she asked, flicking her chin back towards the open door.
(GET UP)
Domino said nothing. He looked all over the room, his eyes periodically landing on Ben, lingering there—and when they lingered, Ben would moan and plead with horrible desperation—for a moment, before going back to Monica.
“It looked like you were working a few things out up there!” Monica tapped her index finger on his forehead.
Again Domino said nothing.
Kelly approached. “So is his brain like totally fried?”
Monica shook her head. “Maybe a little soft-boiled. He just went on a really bad trip, didn’t you, boy?” She patted his head.
“Did you give him acid?”
“No. My own cocktail. If I’d given him acid he’d be too far gone.” She gripped his chin again and grinned at him. “We want him to know who’s beating him to death, don’t we?” she said in the sugary sweet repetition exclusive to babies, puppies, and kittens. “Don’t we? Yes we do…yes we doooo…”
Something in Domino told him to pull away.
Monica smiled and turned to Kelly. “You can go.”
“What?”
“You can go,” Monica said again.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t need you. This is my time.”
“I wanna watch.”
“So watch from the control deck.”
“But what if something happens?”
Monica kicked Domino in the face. He grunted and rolled onto his side. “Haven’t you ever beaten a frightened dog before? They don’t fight back.” She kicked Domino in the ribs. “Do they?” she aske
d him in the baby, puppy, and kitten voice. “Do they?” She kicked him again. “No they don’t…” She kicked him again. “No they don’t…” She stomped on his hand.
“So then why can’t I stay,” Kelly asked. “I mean, if there’s not gonna be any problems…”
Monica faced Kelly. “We’re gonna do this again, huh?”
“Do what?”
“My whole life,” Monica said, “I’ve never had to tell someone something twice. You’re the exception now. What should we do about that?” She stared at Kelly with an eerie calm.
Kelly stared back, but her eyes weren’t in it.
“I promised you Ben after, didn’t I?” Monica said.
Kelly nodded.
“Are you planning to bite the hand that’s been feeding you?”
“No.”
“Then are we done here?”
Kelly nodded.
“Good. Fuck off now please.”
Kelly turned and left…through the door that led outside. The night air wafted in and washed over Domino’s stale skin before the door slammed shut.
(it’s the regular door. The one that leads outside)
Huh?
The voice in his head was low and distant, like someone hollering to him from deep inside a cave.
(the fucking regular door that leads outside. Now GET UP)
Monica used her foot to roll Domino onto his back. She placed the toe of her shoe on his throat and pushed. “Speak, doggy. Speak!”
Domino coughed and wiggled out from beneath the toe of her shoe. Monica withdrew a short knife and plunged it repeatedly into his thigh. Domino groaned and clutched his leg.
Monica twirled the bloody knife between two fingers and giggled. “Oh this is going to be such a good night. Such a looong, good night.”
Ben hollered something into his gag. Monica spun. “May I help you?”
Ben was frowning, angry. He hollered into his gag again.
“Well aren’t you the unexpected surprise. I thought you were finished.” Eyes on Ben, Monica blindly flung the bloodied knife into the wooden wall to her right. It stuck hard with a definitive thock! She then pulled a gun from her waist and crept toward Ben, grinning with both sensuality and evil.
She placed the tip of the gun barrel on Ben’s face and caressed his skin with it. Ben’s bravery instantly vanished. His eyes followed the tip of the gun across his face as he whimpered.
“Well that was a quick show. Kelly did mention you were a little speedy when it came to staying power.” She traced the gun barrel down his face, down his chest, stopping at his groin. “Think this would be a good deterrent for speedy guys like you?” She grinned and said: “Bullet to the dick if ya come too quick?”
Ben pleaded into his gag, squirming helplessly in the chair, desperate to get the gun off his groin.
(GET UP)
Get up…
(THIS IS REAL)
This is real…
(YOU DEAL WITH THAT PUSSY GUILT SHIT ON YOUR OWN FUCKING TIME)
Yeah…
Ben pleaded louder, crying gibberish into his gag.
(SAVE THAT BOY)
Save the boy…
(ON YOUR FUCKING FEET, MARINE)
Yeah…
(ALWAYS FAITHFUL)
Domino clenched his fist and jaw.
Semper Fi, bitch.
Domino rolled onto his knees and sat back on his heels. He looked right at Ben and nodded once, his face now stone.
Ben met Domino’s stare, but his eyes betrayed him; they were too anxious. Monica spotted it instantly and turned back to Domino.
“Did doggy Domino learn how to sit up and beg?” She pointed the gun at him.
You can’t go for her head on. She’s armed and too well-trained. My shoulder’s fucked and my leg’s not far behind.
“Beg for me,” Monica said.
Play along.
Domino pretended to gape at her absently.
“Come on…” she said.
Domino continued to just stare.
Monica inched forward, gun aimed between his eyes. “Hmmm…we know you know how to roll over…” Whip-quick she kicked him on the jaw and sent him onto his side again. Domino was dazed but not out. He heard her add: “…so what’s next? Play dead?” She stood over him, gun pointed down at his head. “But then you’d be dead, wouldn’t you? And that would spoil my whole evening.” She turned suddenly and strolled away from him.
Was that my chance? No—she had the drop on me. I’d have been dead the second I flinched. Just wait.
Monica scratched her head with the gun barrel. “How to play dead, but not be dead. Hmmm…” Her eyes floated towards Ben. She strolled back towards him and Ben started pleading into his gag again. “Oh shut up, you pussy,” she said, reaching behind Ben’s chair and pulling out an aluminum baseball bat.
Domino hadn’t spotted the bat behind Ben when he’d first entered the room. But then, given his condition, he was happy to have spotted Ben.
Monica carried the bat along the length of her leg as she sauntered back towards Domino. She tucked the gun into her waist and lifted the bat with both hands. “I was going to use this on your knees. But now I’m thinking a few love taps on the noggin’ might be perfect to teach you how to play dead.”
Now’s the time. Wait until she steps forward and draws back to swing. Then you’ve got her.
Monica weighed the bat in her hands, as if second-guessing her decision.
Come on, bitch—do it. Closer.
Monica continued studying the bat, the heavy end swaying in little circles as she continuously adjusted her grip on the handle.
Come on…
Monica’s eyes narrowed as she gripped the handle tight.
Fuck yeah. Come to daddy.
There was a sudden floomp! sound, and the door leading outside was instantly engulfed in flames.
Monica spun. “What the fuck?” She hurried towards the door.
The thought that he might have taken her while she was fixated on the blazing door occurred far too late; Domino was just as fixated.
The fire had rimmed the door frame and was now spreading to the supporting wall. Monica threw a forearm over her eyes and tried for the doorknob. The strength of the fire brushed her back multiple times. She eventually got to the knob and turned it to no avail. The door had been designed to be locked by key from both sides—keeping certain people in; keeping everyone else out.
Monica was now among the certain in.
Furious, she fished out her own key and went for the knob again, only to yank her hand back from the flames with a painful grimace.
“Bitch! Fucking Bitch!”
Monica stepped away from the door and pulled her gun. She fired multiple shots at the doorknob until it broke and hung slack. She kicked the door once, twice, and then a final third. The door flew open and revealed the woodland night beyond. In the distance of that woodland night, Domino could just make out the silhouette of someone fleeing the scene.
Monica cursed again, ducked through the flaming door and gave chase to the fleeing silhouette.
76
Gun in hand, Monica sprinted after Kelly. The night and heavy forest of the Pines was aiding the back-stabbing bitch’s getaway.
Not gonna kill her. Gonna wound her. Drag her back. Stack her alongside Domino. Make them both suffer. Was gonna kill her quick. Not anymore.
She fired three shots as she continued running, all of them in the direction she believed Kelly was heading—because she couldn’t see her anymore.
Bitch fucking cunt bitch.
Monica stopped running. Panting and wide-eyed, she scanned her perimeter. Woods and night everywhere.
“You gonna hide out here in the Pines all night!?” she yelled. “You stupid fucking bitch! You won’t make it until morning! And if you do, then what? Then what? I own you, you fucking little cunt!” She fired three more rounds. “I OWN YOU!”
Monica turned and headed back. She could see the blaze in the distan
ce. Fuck, what if they were burning to death? That was no good. She started to run. When she reached them, she would drag Domino outside and have her way with him out there. It would be just as good. Her masterpiece had served its purpose; Domino was broken both physically and mentally. It made no difference if she tortured him to death indoors or outdoors. And she was going to torch the place when she was done.
The little cunt got her hands on one of the gas cans. I should burn her. Yes—how fitting. Gonna burn the bitch.
Monica arrived at the blazing door. The fire had spread to a good portion of the building, but it was nothing significant yet. She still had time before unwanted attention showed. She still had time.
Monica shielded her face and leapt through the burning door. Ben’s chair was empty. The room was empty. Ben and Domino were gone. Worse still, when she hurried back outside, she noticed the Russians’ pickup was gone.
Monica went insane.
77
Domino had used Monica’s knife to free Ben and hotwire the Ford pickup. That was the easy part. Finding his way onto a main road from God-knows-where with drugs still lingering in his system? Not so much.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Ben asked from the passenger seat.
“Yes,” Domino lied.
“Where’s the crazy woman?”
“I don’t know.”
The truck hit a ditch and bounced hard. Ben winced in pain. Domino suppressed his. He thanked God and sonny Jesus the truck had an automatic transmission. If it had been a manual transmission, he’d have been driving and shifting with one arm.
“What happened back there? Why did the place start to burn? Why did—?”
“Do you really fucking care? Please shut up, Ben. No offense, but please shut up.”
Ben nodded.
Headlights appeared behind them in the distance. Domino spotted them in the rearview. “Fuck.”
“What?” Ben looked in his side view mirror. “Who’s that?”
Domino ignored him and stomped the accelerator. Ahead was nothing but narrow road with dense forest on either side. Would she be stupid enough to wage war on the narrow road with a Lexus? He’d crush her in the truck. He’d…
Domino lifted his foot off the accelerator and let the truck slow.
Bad Games- The Complete Series Page 72
