Probably Maybe

Mercy didn't like being upside-down, she decided. She felt like her head was an overfilled water balloon. In fact, she was pretty sure there was very little difference. The funny thing about concussions is that sometimes you forget things. She wasn't sure how she ended up in a meat locker, suspended by a rope that tied her ankles together, but she knew it was probably bad.

She looked around and saw nothing out of the ordinary. She made note of the sides of beef and pork that hung beside her and of the blood that was on the floor. Considering that the meat looked well processed, she was guessing the pool of blood below her was mostly hers.

Mercy tightened her abs and forced herself up, grabbing her boots. Continuing her movement to not lose momentum, she pulled herself into a painful position that consisted of her spine screaming in agony and her fingers around the hook that held her aloft. With a grunt and a yell she willed every muscle in her body to help her. There was a popping noise somewhere in her shoulder as she slipped the rope off the hook.

"Oh, shit."

She fell in the pool of her blood and was sure she contributed more. Something else cracked in her back and she rolled onto her side. Pain shot through her bones and filled her eyes with colors. She held her breath so as not to scream. Her teeth were clamped tight and the taste of iron filled her mouth. She spat and cursed quietly as she forced herself off the ground.

A second assessment of the room found her a table with an assortment of weapons. She grabbed a cleaver and a meat hook. She might need them. The locker was, luckily, unlocked. The adjoining kitchen was empty. The dining area, not so much. Voices were nonchalantly speaking in Italian. A quick peek revealed two suits at a table, sharing a bottle of wine. One of them was wearing charcoal, the other one in tan. Another was at the front door and probably had a concealed pistol. Another had his back to her and was carrying a shotgun. Those two wore black.

These were the bad guys. Probably. Shotgun guy got the meat hook as she tossed the cleaver at the other goon. She bet the door guard shit his pants anyway as she caught the shotgun mid-fall. She wasted the him as soon as his recovered from the cleaver toss and faced held the two wine-drinkers at gunpoint. Before she could even speak she had received a set of car keys, a wad of twenties, and a few choice words. She knocked out the bigger of the two (tan suit) with the butt of the shotgun and left. On the way out she took the pistol from the guard with no face.

There was only one car worth over sixty-thousand dollars parked on the street and the car alarm proved her ownership. She tossed her new guns in the passenger seat and drove out a few miles. Some rifling got her enough coin to use a payphone and she dialed Ronan's number. No answer.

Her head still pounding, she pinched the bridge of her nose and was considering her options when the payphone rang.

"Hello?"

"Who is this?"

"It's Mercy."

"Redhead I saved from the bloodsucker? You didn't do anything stupid like go back, did you?"

She had to stop and think.

"Maybe."

"You're an idiot, I said we needed backup. We won't have Six until the morning."

"Six what?"

"Six. You know? Quiet guy? Shoots things?"

"Right. Whatever. Do we have a plan?"

"That depends, did you find the kid?"

"One sec." She pressed a button on the key. The trunk of the car popped open. Something small and boy shaped was terrified and gagged. "Yes?"

"Why is that a question? Whatever. Bring him to the safe house in the valley. I found his parents in the gutter. You'll have to give me some time to figure out what to do with him."

"See you in thirty."

---

Half an hour and several miles later she pulled into the driveway of a small, abandoned chapel. Ronan was waiting for her and was appalled by her appearance.

"You look like used tampon."

"Tell me we have running water."

"Hose in the back. Where's the kid?"

She tossed him the keys.

"You left him in the trunk!?"

---


"Kid's sucking down a hot cocoa and I got you a beer," Ronan said as he watched Mercy try to freeze herself to death with a hose.

"Good news is that he seems okay," he gave her a chance to respond, he wasn't surprised when she didn't. "The bad news is that's not the kid we were looking for."

She took the beer without a thanks and walked inside.

"Aren't you gonna put some clothes on?" He called after her.

"Kid's gotta see a girl in her skivvies sometime."

---

When Six finally arrived she was playing X-Box with the kid. She conceded the football game and left him there so she could join them. Ronan gave Six the lowdown on Romeo Giovanni, his goons, his ghouls, and his ghosts. He acted like this was old news t o Mercy, but she didn't remember much from the past few nights. Either too many blows to the head or too much alcohol. Maybe both.

Six took it all in without saying a word. When Ronan finished Six sat back, lit a cigarette, took two good drags and eyed Mercy, who was still in her lingerie.

"When?"

"Soon as she puts some clothes on," Ronan answered.

Mercy smiled.

---

It was Guido's first day working for his uncle Jimmy and it was his lucky day. Some dame came running out of the alley crying about how she was almost raped. Then she passed out in his arms. Guido brought her into the back room and lay down on one of the couches. He took a good, long look at her body and admired how well boy-shorts fit her. It was the last good thing he saw before a man in a long coat burst in, pointed a six-shooter at him, and put a bullet in the head he should have been using instead of the little one.

---

Ronan came in behind Six.

"I don't see how that was better than just busting the door down," said Six.

"They use reinforced doors and three locks. You don't put a cardboard door on a brothel full of children, Six. Getting in was the hard part," Ronan stated as he made sure that his safety was off. Mercy took a gun from their newly ventilated friend and looked up at Six who was staring at the door.

"This door doesn't even have a handle on it, much less a lock," he said.

Ronan looked at Mercy disappointed. She sighed.

"I said they probably have tighter security."

"You just wanted to run around in your underwear."

"Maybe," she smirked. The door to the alley closed without warning and all the lights went out.

"Looks like they know we're here," Ronan said. "Let's rock."

The trio made their way room to room and cleaned out every asshole decided that child prostitution was okay by them. Suits, perverts, and some ghouls who took more than a natural number of bullets to kill. Three floors and a dozen rooms worth of shit, scum, and worthless excuses for human beings. They liberated limbs from client and employee alike. They freed children from the depraved and organs from the profiteers. They destroyed evil and avenged innocence.

No foul thing survived, but amongst them, Romeo Giovanni was not. When they got to his office it was empty. The paper records were smoldering in a filing cabinet that had been lit with a cigar. A hospital blood bag had been ripped open, its contents smeared on the wall: I'LL LIVE FOREVER! YOU WON'T!

Frustration welled up inside Mercy and she threw a chair out a window.

"FUCKING VAMPIRES!" She screamed. When she regained composure they climbed teh final set of stairs to the roof. Awaiting them there were three pigeon coops each with children in them.

"Think our boy is in there?" Ronan asked Mercy.

"Maybe."

Mercy

[This is a short I wrote as a character exercise for a role-playing game my friend will be running soon. For those of you that know Hunter: The Reckoning, Mercy also happens to be the Virtue Path that the character will be following as she follows the Defender Creed.]

Mercy spent an hour tracking the things through the storm drains. Luckily the noise from the rainwater made it easy, but it was playing hell on the cheap blue hair dye she used to help her keep cover from the feds. She used to spend her time chasing suspects like herself, now she was hunting down volunteers from the soup kitchen because they might be the walking undead. She was sure they had been the ones behind the local disappearances and was on their trail because someone had to fight for the homeless; they had enough coming down on them without being nabbed by creatures of evil.

She rounded the corner while lost in thought and almost blew it. A service door opened and light filled the adjoining tunnel. She put her back to the wall and listened. Two voices argued that disposing of the bones was getting difficult but then the conversation began to take a more mundane tone. Mercy heard a truck approaching overhead, closed her eyes and waited for the right timing.

As the truck passed she rounded the corner and plugged the two men who were carrying a large burlap sack filled with something too awkward to be potatoes. As they splashed to the ground she holstered her pistols, moved quickly to them, and pulled out her knife. When she cut open the bag the aforementioned bones spilled onto the floor and into the rainwater. Mercy pursed her lips and left the monsters and their spoils to be eaten by the rats or washed out to the ocean.

When she backtracked their passage through the service door she found their jackets neatly piled and another three sacks of what she presumed to be remains. A quick check produced their wallets, and aside from the standard fair she came up short. Another dead end that left her with enough evidence to keep going but nowhere to go. Resigned for the time being, she found their entrance (her exit) and climbed the ladder. The iron rungs were slippery from the rain and possibly some kind of algae.

When she popped out onto street level she was greeted by a heavy boot that hit her in the temple and smashed her head against the sidewalk. She was so addled that her hands slipped and her head injury was compounded by the fall. To little surprise, she was out cold.

---

Saying Mercy had a headache would have been an understatement; not that she could do anything about it while she was tied to a chair. She blinked hard to try to collect herself but never got the chance. Immediately her head space was invaded by flashlights that brought her headache back in full force. Someone said something but it wasn't in English and then the light beam moved around the room stopping on various faces. There must have been a dozen people in the room with her but, unlike herself, they were chained to the walls. What they did share in common is they had no place to call home. Being on the run meant she was never in the same bed twice, and sometimes she had no bed at all.

The flashlight clicked off and heavy footfalls made their way out of the room. A click and a creak later, she knew where the door was and that there was at least one other man on the other side. She waited a while in the darkness. The sounds of the homeless around her, shifting, coughing, or simply moaning in pain, made her uncomfortable but it gave her something to focus on as she struggled with her bonds. She guessed it was nylon rope, and was unsure that she could free herself. Then the door opened.

Heavy Boots came back in and unchained the closest person to the door. A middle-aged man dressed in several layers of rags that were topped with a shredded pea-coat. When the man tried to make a break for it Heavy Boots backhanded him so hard he fell to the floor. Before he could recover Heavy Boots had grabbed his collar and began to drag him out the door.

Mercy screamed for him to be left alone. Heavy Boots only laughed and smiled, saying something to someone on the other side of the door that resulted in laughter. He punched the poor man and sent blood spraying into the air. Mercy struggled against her bonds and cursed at Heavy Boots, the rope burned against her wrist and she could feel blood dripping down her fingers. He threw the homeless man through the doorway and spit in her direction.
Something inside Mercy snapped and, a moment after, so did the rope that was holding her. Heavy Boots was unable to believe what he was seeing and his eyes were still wide when the chair hit him in the face. On the other side of the doorway she saw a thin man and a fat man. Each of them was rising to his feet and picking up cleavers from the table in front of them.

She let the chair slip from her fingers but held onto the rope that previously held her. Before it threaded through her fingers completely she tightened her grip and yanked, sending the chair flying through the air and into Fat Man's chest, dropping him to the floor.

Thin Man grabbed onto the rope to try to prevent her from regaining control of her makeshift morning star but she was stronger than he was and the rope burned his hand. The chair recoiled and hit him in the back of the head.

Mercy heard Heavy Boots coming up behind her and ducked as he went to tackle her. She timed her stand and flipped him over herself and onto Fat Man and Thin Man. Only the did she recognize them: they were the cooks of soup kitchen. The realization of what was happening made her sick. She saw her things in a pile by the rear entrance and grabbed them before ripping the keys from Heavy Boots' unconscious hands. Of the three of them only Thin Man was moving, but Fat Man and Heavy Boots were too much for him to move so he lay there helpless as she freed the captives. When they were all clear she made her way back to her car and took Heavy Boots' keys with her.

---

Mercy had parked her car down the street. Technically it wasn't hers, but she had tried to save the owner from zombies and he bled to death. She figured the car was proper payment for the attempt. Patiently she waited, eating M&Ms and drying her boots. By the time the three men got up it had been forty minutes and Heavy Boots was outside smoking a cigarette while she assumed he called for backup. It was either that or he needed to complain to his mother about the ass whooping he just caught from a woman half his size. Twenty minutes later his mother arrived.

Mercy didn't swing but mommy was hot. Mercy knew her, and she knew Mercy. Katinka Mason was a vampire that owned several small businesses in Seattle. Katinka shook her head as she exited her town car, obviously upset that she was called out in the middle of the night. Her chauffeur held her umbrella for her as she crossed the distance into the shelter. Three other men followed her in.

Mercy had always wanted to kill Katinka out but she was always with whatever other more physically capable vampire that she was in bed at the time as payment for bodyguard service. The vampire bitch was collecting the blood and shoveling the homeless corpses at the hungry. She kept them alive long enough so that when she needed more blood, they'd still be around to harvest. It was the way leftover beef was fed to milk cows.

Mercy loved M&M's, but it was time to go to work, Katinka wouldn't be out alone again any time soon. She opened Dead Guy's trunk, strapped on her standard gear, and grabbed her 12-gauge street sweeper. She slung the behemoth onto her shoulder and made her way to the shelter, whistling the whole time. A couple coming from a bar saw her and crossed the street to stay out of the way.

She didn't bother checking the door, it's not like they could have locked it, she had their keys. Instead she turned the knob and unlatched the foot, pushing the door forward a hair. Then she took a deep breath, kicked in the door, and reduced Chauffeur 's head to a nub. Everyone else ducked into the kitchen and the service counter took the brunt of the firefight from both sides. Mercy took a hit to the thigh but was lucky enough to live. She fought back the rage that grew inside her. If she lost control, she could be in more danger than she gave.

Her shotgun's magazine empty, Mercy rolled into the kitchen with her .45's; pots, pans, and men fell to the floor. Soon, everyone's firearms were spent and Mercy was dodging pots to close the gap with her kukris. Her limbs flew around her, their limbs flew off them, and at some point Katinka tried to take Mercy from behind and got an eye full of blade. Blinded she staggered back against a wall.

Heavy Boots seemed to have learned his lesson the first time and bolted out the back. Katinka kept screaming Mercy's name and Mercy sneered. There would be none tonight. She bolted after Heavy Boots out the back door and turned out on to the street.

The bastard was waiting for her and unloaded his Saturday night special in her direction. She took a slug to the shoulder, another in the forearm, and collapsed to one knee. Whatever she was keeping at bay at the back of her mind would be contained no longer.

Mercy went berserk.

The pain disappeared and so did her self control. An animal closed the distance and for the second time tonight Heavy Boots could only stand in wide-eyed terror. The difference was this time he wouldn't live. First, she passed him and opened his belly. He remained standing, staggering. Her knife found his Achilles and he fell to the floor, innards spilling. She kicked him in the temple and someone approached her from behind.

The new assailant caught her blade in the chest four times as she stabbed and withdrew each blade twice. His companion got it once in the throat. When she reached for her neck, she released a dog leash and the attached dog lunged at Mercy. The small dog caught a boot and went yelping into the air, landing on the pavement yards away.

Quickly Mercy turned to find Katinka had found her way to the street, grown a new pair of eyes and a gnarly set of claws at her fingertips. The two of them charged at one another, feral beasts in the streetlight. They exchanged blows, slashes, and curses. Police sirens caused them both to pause but instead of breaking they only doubled their efforts to murder one another. Finally Katinka slipped on Heavy Boot's guts and fell, Mercy exploited the mistake and took her head. Katinka's head rolled into the gutter and stopped on a storm drain.

Only then did Mercy regain control of herself. She looked around at the carnage. While she was satisfied that she had killed Katinka and her ghoulish servants, she recoiled to find that her surprise attackers weren't attackers at all, but a couple that had gone for a walk. Their dog limped back to their bodies and whined at them.

Mercy fled, but no matter how far she ran and how much she ached, she could never escape the monster.

love is a lie

cut my heart out
hide it from the world
call me out
you stayed inside
i pine i bleed i die
love is a lie

Downfall

As I fell from Heaven I wondered where I would fall. If the pain would bend me, break me, make me scream. If my soul would shatter with my spine, my very being dashed across the earth like so much red paint. I soared through space, the stars like snow, rushing past my feet. I watched the moon grow and shrink as I rushed to, greeted, and left her behind. The air met me with the crisp bite of ozone. It soon gave way to the pollution of mankind, and I shuddered.

Fear swept across my body, like diving into an icy pond. My mind froze in terror as I approached the city lights. So many people, so much sin. Had they wings they'd be Angels. They had not, would not, bear the marks of perfection, they were human.

Gripped in fear of the earth and all her inhabitants I closed my eyes and let the darkness take me to earth. I grit my teeth, ready for smash of impact, the grief of earthly life.

I opened my eyes and fell into your arms.

Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as I thought.

Red Light, Green Light.

I promised her I’d get her out of out of this town. She laughed then, her eyes wrinkled up and her cheeks dimpled. I laughed too. We both knew it was impossible.

When we met, I was stuck at a dead end job, living paycheck to paycheck. I had had a rough week and needed some companionship. So I hit the red light district and shopped for some. They all looked the same: leopard skirt, feather boa, and big black boots.

At least that’s what I was thinking when I saw her. Golden curls, red lipstick and eyes so blue that if you gazed to long you’d end up gasping for air. I picked her up and we expected the usual. What happened was anything but.

I got a hotel room, one thing led to another and we were up all night. I was nervous but something about those eyes calmed me down. Yeah, we were at it all night. What can I say? I’m long winded and she asked me what I did for a living. That explanation turned into what I was planning to do with the money I save up. I told her that I wanted to start my own club instead of working for that jerk Tony. I told her it’d be called Soul Purpose and we’d serve barbecue and have a live jazz band playing ‘round the clock. She opened her mouth to laugh but what came out was music.

I asked her what where my money was going. She said she wanted to leave New York. She moved here when her father had gotten a big job. Said the asshole only spent money on himself. She hated this hellhole ever since she got here, but he had forced her to come with him. He said his mother was only good for milking cows and brushing down horses.

We continued for hours, first her, then more about me. She liked Montana but thinks southern California seems better. She drives a Volvo, a beige one. Her favorite color is turquoise and she likes her coffee with cream, no sugar. She’s into the blues, like me, and spends her daytime practicing on the sax and taking care of her cat Chucky. Chucky likes to listen to her play and to unroll the toilet paper until he gets caught. On Sundays she feeds the homeless because she’s true to her roots. She can’t stand the sound of poorly maintained brakes, especially the public bus’.

We were surprised when the sun came up.

It was when that first ray of sunlight came through the window that we both looked out the window in between the sickly grey stained curtains and fell silent. We were quiet as the sun came up slowly behind the skyline of the city. I didn’t notice the time. She didn’t notice my hand on hers. That’s when I said it. Eleven months ago.

As the train pulls in I run my fingers through her hair and give her a kiss on the top of her head, she moves slightly but she’s a deep sleeper. We were up late again last night playing Scrabble. The conductor holds the door open as I carry her in, careful not to bump her head. I sit next to her as soon as I’m done getting our bags. The man across from us asks me where we’re headed. Southern California, I tell him.

Just One.

I killed him. I did it. It was fear that drove me to it. Such an act I did not know I could do. The trip home is long, you see, and the path takes me through the trees. It takes me through the dark place ‘tween this house and that. I oft take this way home, but ne’er had I walked so late at night. There was news as of late, of girls that had been raped, so fear crept near me. It was that cause that made me bear a gun in my purse.

As I walked through the trees I heard things that made me lose my ease like a hoot or howl. I saw shapes in the dark, like a boot, or a cowl, that made me take haste in fear.

Soon I had seen all I could take, so I ran to make my life safe from fear. I ran ‘till my breath was hard. I ran ‘till I had gone so far. I ran ‘till my veins pumped flames. I ran ‘till my legs went lame. I fell at the stoop of my home.

My keys felt as if made by stone. The bolt of my door I did free, but in my home I saw a sight that made me scream. A man in the dark with knife in hand came t’wards me so quick that I did not think. A shot, a scream, a thud. My home was all in blood, and there on the floor, dead as a nail, was my man, my beau, my love. The knife he held was to carve the ham that he had made to eat.

I remember.

I remember she smelled like raspberries.

I remember that day on the hill where they took her away.

I remember leather pouches.

I remember "I'm sorry."

I remember peanut butter & fluff sandwiches at the track.

I remember laying in bed for hours staring at the ceiling.

I remember purple contacts.

I remember being jealous.

I remember playing with plushies.

I remember calls to say good night.

I remember counting the hours when we apart.

I remember your scars.

I remember the kiss.

I remember wanting to see you.

I remember holding your hand.

I remember school lunches and baked potatoes.

I remember fleece sweaters.

I remember loving your smile.

I remember your velvet dress.

I remember the Queen of Spades.

I remember long naps.

I remember French fries and to-mayo.

I remember walking home.

I remember the stars and moon.

I remember broken rings.

I remember crying when I broke up with you the first time, and that I couldn't sleep after.

I remember Tiger.

I remember The Red Violin.

I remember sending you music.

I remember singing with you.

I remember loving your name.

I remember drying your tears.

I remember holding you while you wept.

I remember you returning the favor.

I wish you could do that now.

I remember you smelled like raspberries.