He growled internally as he looked over to the frail who made this nightmare all possible. She looked out the window watching the trees passing by. At least he leaved him at peace.
"How far is it till L.A furball?" He spoke too soon.
He snarled as a reply as he kept his eyes on the road. He put on the radio in order to drown out the voice of the frail. Static came from the speakers in the front, the back, and on the sides.
He payed three-hundred thousand dollars for this car, at least the speakers should work. He slammed his fist onto the dash and suddenly he heard the end of the song he knew too well.
"...She buying a stairway to heaven..."
An eerie smile crossed his face. He put his foot to the pedal and way past the speed limit.
+ + +
When he took his foot off the accelerator, they were at a place he didn't like, a church. He wasn't a religious man, but he'd make a exception for today. Maybe he'd find an answer from one of the priests or those nuns.
...Or maybe it could trigger her moving on, just being here.
He controlled his excitement of getting rid of her and looked at the frail menacingly, "Look frail, I hate ya, ya hate me let's just get this over with," he yelled at her.
She gave him a glare that only a woman not afraid of him could, "I get the point furball -- lets get this over with." she agreed with him.
He got out of his car and slammed the door. He saw the frail just phase through the door. They got to the door quickly as he ripped the door off the hinges.
Candles lit the room and stained glass portraits. No one was around -- he felt it, he smelled it.
"Alright frail do yer stuff, get yer ass out of here," He called out smugly. He got no response.
"Frail?" he questioned as he looked around. Nowhere to be seen. She was finally gone. He walked out of the church with the biggest smile he ever worn.
He got in his car and was about to start his car. He looked back at the church as crickets started to sound off in the distance. He looked to the passengers seat to see no one there.
He was free -- away from her snide remarks, annoying singing and rude looks. He started the Viper and took one last look at the church and took off, trying to get the thought of the frail out of his mind with his job.
He drove in the darkness and the silence for a while. Only the wind could be heard blowing in and out of the car. The horrible experience known from the past couple days were over, he had some celebrating to do.
He wasn't in the celebrating mood though. He had no cash on him and three thousand miles stood between him and California. He needed a scam. A pair of lights flashed in the distance. A sign for a bar, he turned into the parking lot.
Flashing multi-color lights, loud pop music and the stench of teenagers -- this wasn't his scene. He sat down and looked for potential prey. After a short search, he zoned in on one blonde twenty something that wore Versace. The glaze over her eyes, the mascara running down her face and the shots that glasses next to her meant only one thing -- a vunerable woman after a break-up.
He stealthily went over to her, making sure she was by herself, "You alright kid?"
She looked up at him, and started sobbing. He didn't need this right now; so, he got up to leave, but he felt something tug on his shirt. She apologized and she went with her story.
He sat there a good thirty minutes listening to the frail, or at least pretended to. From what he got through the whimpers and the shots she drunk down, she broke up with someone before she got here. Apparently, the guy was cheating on her. She came into this club, wanting to be alone, but when she saw him, she said he reminded her of her gay best friend that died recently.
He didn't like to be compared to any frail, especially her best friend, yet he nodded and pretended to listen to every word. All he wanted was her money from that Gucci bag she carried.
"Ya know wat," she said in a drunken slur as she attempted to get up -- but she failed collapsing in his arms, "I'll get back at him." She thrust her lips to his. The didn't shock him he just kissed her back savagely.
"C'mon big boy, lets go somewhere private," her drunkenness made her dependent on him on movement. He could've just taken her purse right now, but that's not part of the plan he formulated earlier.
They walked out to his car and he put her in the back seat. He got in and tried to find the nearest motel he could. She didn't know the mistake she made trusting a psychotic killer like himself. He'd take her, gut her, then steal all the money she had in that expensive account she must have.
He planned all this like a chore. Before he'd have a lot more fun with it, he forced his evil grin. Everything was like before, as it should be.
"I love you, I hate you, I can't live without y--," the last things the blonde frail in the back seat slurred out before she threw up. He cringed a little; he'd have to pay to get that stain out. The money he'd steal from her would be enough to pay for it and gutting her would be her reward for the mess.
The evil smile came naturally this time as he found a sign blinking 'vacancy.' He pulled into the place.
"C'mon frail, I'll take ya mind away from that punk," He got out of the car and yanked the blonde woman out after him. She giggled in response.
He forced her to pay for the room.
"Make sure it's sound proof, frail," he winked at her. No one would hear her scream for mercy. When she got the money out, he smelled something other than money and perfume from the purse -- gunpowder.
He shrugged his suspicions off, if anything she'd be too drunk to shoot at him. He assisted her to the room, while her lips concentrated on his neck.
He gently put the key in, opened the door and turned on the lights. The bright red wallpaper blinded him a little as he ushered her in first.
The exact second he heard the door slam shut, he pushed her onto the heart shaped bed and pounced on her -- his lips savagely taking over hers.
"What is it with you and blondes furball." that voice, that annoyingly familiar voice!
He quickly turned around to see the frail behind him. He should've known it was too easy to get rid of her and this was the proof he needed. The yellow trench coat wearing specter stood in front of him. Her hands on her hips and that deadpan expression on her face.
"Ya ain't gonna ruin this for me frail," he yelled behind him as he looked back at the confused blonde girl beneath him.
"Who're ya talking to--," He quickly took his claw and split her shirt in half to shut her up. She didn't like that, "Aw, that cost me hundred twenty five b--," her sentence cut short by his lips.
"Give her air furball, I thought ya make your prey suffer before ya kill 'em -- not suffocate 'em," the ghostly frail sat at the edge of the bed.
He abruptly cut the kiss. His passion wasn't going to be cut by this ghostly frail.
"Yer just mad that Uncle Vic gutted ya before ya got that cherry popped," He glared at her and for the first time he saw rage in the ghastly frails eyes that rivaled the runts and his own.
"It ain't like your the greatest lover in the world furball, wait ya ain't a lover -- someone has to love ya back for that," the sharpness of her words made him get off his prey. He somewhat heard the blonde spoke, but he drowned out her voice. His entire focus was on the frail he couldn't get rid of.
He used women, plain and simple as that, but why did those words make his heart palpitate?
"Oh, and don't try ta say ya couldn't love someone, cause lookin' through yer memories -- I know what ya truly felt," she dismissed his earlier thought and braced himself on the memories that he ran from.
"Lets see," she counted one on her finger, "there was 'Mystique' " He growled at the thought of the child he had with her. It hurt him that she never told him about it until was too late.
"She didn't love ya furball, so one point ta me," The next thing he knew his fist aimed for her face, only to go through her.
"Oh," she feigned shock as she counted two on her finger, "there was Bird--"
"I loved her she knew that," he interrupted her with a desperate agonizing yell as he tried to slash her again but with the same result as the last attempt.
"That ain't the way I saw it furball, unless love is payin' someone to give ya a glow, then beatin' her, then rapin' her, then bein' betrayed by her and then leavin' her ta die alone," she shrugged absentmindedly.
This couldn't be true, he loved Birdy and Birdy loved him -- right. He became pale when he figured out who was next on the list and he didn't want to hear it. With a leap, he reached for the door.
"We ain't done yet furball, I got one more to talk about, someone more recent," he could tell she loved torturing him. The next word cut deeper than whatever the runt could do to him physically, "Bonnie."
He tried to hold back a tear, but he felt that trickle down his face , "I...loved...her," he faced her only to see her have an evil grin. His body shaking uncontrollably with rage.
"Then ya twisted her neck ta ease her sufferin' right -- how romantic," she hovered in right next to his ear.
"She used ya furball for one last joyride, she never loved ya," Her whisper felt like icy cold tears that wouldn't come out.
"Your lyin' frail," he tried to argue but instead barely breathed those words.
"Am I," she quickly rebutted, "You're talkin' to the dead one here, I know all," the smug look appeared on her face, he wanted to take it out. He leapt at her as he crash landed on something hard.
"So dog how does it feel ta actually deal with ya actions, oh and don't look now, I think your friend is quite scared," he looked where she pointed. A Desert Eagle quivered in blonde frail's hands.
"Get back you freak," the blonde frail tried to yell without fear, but his senses knew otherwise.
He growled as instinct took over and he grabbed the gun out of her hand and with his free hand knocked her unconscious.
He looked at the laughing apparition in front of him; then he looked down the barrel of the gun and pulled the trigger.