Kill Kiddo

by Lone Archer

Beatrix Kiddo left behind a wake of destruction while killing all five members of the DiVAS. Now, the past is catching up. Who will manage to kill her, the grieving daughter, the vengeful victim, or fellow assassin? Three stories told in three tenses.

Nikkia Bell

I've never been able to eat Kabooms ever again. I can handle female rugby players; I can handle wild animals; I can even handle trained killers, but for the life of my artificially flavored Kabooms still scare the crap out of me.

As I stood on the kitchen linoleum watching as the blond-haired woman left the house quietly and efficiently, I stared at the little circular pieces of cereal lying on the floor. With each step I took towards my mother, I could hear the sounds of sweetened fruit-flavored breakfast cereal crunching underneath my feet, and I swear the first thing I thought was 'God damn it. I liked Kabooms. And now I'll never be able to eat them again.'

I guess my defense mechanism always was making light of things.

I didn't cry when I looked over the dead body of my mother. I didn't cry when my father got home. I didn't even cry when the funeral happened, but it wasn't because I didn't care. I didn't cry because there was nothing left for me to care about. Everything left was just worthless fluff, and when you peel off the sweetened layer of grains off of a Kabooms cereal ball, it's just more worthless fluff and grains, except now the color is gone. That was what living was like. I could plaster a fake coat of sugary color all over my life as much as I wanted, but it didn't hide the fact that it was just a load of crap.

My life was normal because my dad wanted it to be normal, but he was a real wreck. He never did anything around the house anymore, even after we moved. He would invite a woman over and I'd see her the next morning but never again. No woman could ever satisfy him anymore, and he died alone from a heart attack at an early age. Isn't it ironic that a doctor dies from a heart attack? It's a heck of a lot more ironic than anything Alanis Morissette ever came up with.

When my father died, I remembered what Kiddo said to me that one day. I used to remember it verbatim, but I'm afraid it's slipped my mind. Something like, 'If you still feel raw about this, I'll be waiting'. I'm sure I'm giving her more poetic credit than is due, but I digress. I do still feel raw about this, and I hope wherever she's waiting is god damn cozy because I'm going to be seeing her sometime soon.

I've always been in good shape, and I've been training. She better watch out, because I'm going to kill Kiddo.