The next morning Bill awoke, not by his own fruition which was almost always the case, but by the doorbell ringing. Not only that but it was far later in the morning than he was used to getting up. Far from a typical morning for him. Rolling over, he caught sight of Beatrix who was still sound asleep, or at least appeared so. Bill rubbed his face, "Augh...shit...." his groggy mind attempted to catch up with the current situation. Slowly, everything fell into place.
The doorbell rang again.
With a grumble, Bill started getting up but then suddenly he heard the door being opened. Nikishi's voice could be heard. He froze.
"Hello..yes..Bill is home, come in please."
Fuck. Apparently Nikishi had already let herself in. With newfound incentive Bill threw himself out of bed and scrambled out of the room. He threw a glance Beatrix's way before he left....maybe she just would stay put....
Standing in the hallway were two oriental figures. One was the familiar O-Ren Ishii and beside her stood a man of Japanese decent. He came a few inches shorter than the tall half breed, he wore a black business suit with a light blue stripped tie, the man had a buzz cut, and held a firm expression.
O-Ren was chatting away contently to Nikishi as the man at her side remained quiet and speculative. The second foot steps could be heard O-Ren ended her conversation and turned to the adjacent hallway. She was clad in a pair of black leather pants and a white tank top with a turtleneck fashion. A wide smile crossed her graceful features. "Bill!" She exclaimed rather happy to see the older gentlemen. O-Ren had been away on various self-employed assignments for the past few months. She knew Bill wouldn't mind, he never did. She was a very independent person but she always remained true to her 'father' figure.
In a matter of seconds, Bill completely switched gears. Not very many people could pull this off...not to mention do it wearing silk pajamas, standing barefoot in the hallway....but Bill was just cool like that. He embraced O-Ren with true affection. He cared very much for the Chinese/Japanese half-breed...she was one of his greatest protégés and allowed her a wide amount of leverage because of this. Bill knew he could trust O-Ren to the very end...she was as steadfast and collected as they come and she rarely disappointed.
Receiving a friendly embrace from Bill she stood back and made a motion to the Japanese man, whom appeared out of place. "Bill, this is Boss Rankiku. He and I have had connections in the past and I do owe him a few favors." It was ordinary for O-Ren to go straight to business before small talk. She had every intention on catching up with Bill but she wanted to get things out of the way. "He needs a few select people hit off and I had hopes you wouldn't mind letting him 'borrow' one of the DiVAS." She put long elegant fingers to her chest. "I would do it but Rankiku is not fond of my style." She made a face at this.
Stepping away from O-Ren, Bill addressed the shorter Japanese man with respect and true businessman mannerisms. Bill was extremely familiar with Japanese protocol. Giving Boss Rankiku a short bow, he then shook the man's hand. "Boss Rankiku, an honor to meet you," he broke into Japanese...well, just because he could. Bill immediately could tell the man was yakuza....big money and all business. A dangerous but highly profitable type of ally.
Bill listened to O-Ren, eyebrow raised. Didn't like her style? Interesting....He nodded at Rankiku, "Of course, Boss Rankiku....I'm always more than happy to help out an associate of O-Ren's." He offered a slight smile, "I'm sure one of those in my employ will suit you." He gestured towards the living room, "Perhaps we can sit down and discuss this further.." If Bill felt an anxiety over the possible awkward situation, he didn't show it. O-Ren smiled graciously to Bill as she followed into the living room. Boss Rankiku remained silent the entire time from entering to sitting in the chair opposite the man in the pajamas. If Boss Rankiku was dissatisfied by this he did not show it but kept a steady and hard expression.
"Well," O-Ren began as she took a seat beside her associate. Her demeanor was calming and hinted to sparks of satisfaction. "I reviewed the assignment and by my own calculations I believe I have the perfect DiVA for the task. Of course, with your approval and opinion. I had my eyes set on---Beatrix?"
At this precise moment the tall blonde was crossing through the hallway. She had recently awoken to find Bill wasn't in bed beside her. This was a major disappointment and only became a catalyst to her growing sour mood. Upon waking she went to the bathroom to wash-up and then to dress. Her clothes were in the other room which left her no choice but to leave Bill's bedroom in that classic t-shirt, which luckily ran down to mid-thigh length.
Blue eyes shot up in alarm and peered down the hallway to the living room. Her expression was a mixture of oh shit and fuck. Both curses were appropriate. Beatrix quickly changed her facade. "O-Ren...what are you doing here?"
"I don't know. What are you doing here, Bea?" The half-breed retorted coolly and loud enough to carry the distance between them.
"I work here."
"So do I."
A frown settled over Beatrix's features. "I knew that."
O-Ren appeared to have a very wide grin on her face. Her soft brown eyes sparkling as if she had struck gold. "Since you are here," O-Ren started. "I believe Bill and I were in the midst of discussing an assignment we wish to send you on."
Bill retained his well practiced, hard as stone poker face. Of course, underneath that he was cursing in the name of embarrassment and incredibly bad timing. His gaze flicked to Beatrix who looked like a very underdressed deer in headlights, then back to O-Ren...who looked more than just mildly amused by this. He nonchalantly, leaned back on the couch, clearing his throat. "Well, since Beatrix appears coincidentally to be here at the moment...why don't we ask her herself?" He flashed a wide smile. "Perhaps...when she is more properly attired of course." He nodded at Beatrix, funny coming from a man currently wearing silk pajamas.
Beatrix remained in her awkward position for a few more moments. Blue eyes boring into O-Ren's brown in nonverbal confrontation. In time she turned on her heels and crossed over to the other room to dress. She would have said the same to Bill but she knew to keep comments at bay in the presence of a client. But if the temptation was too much it was easy to be drawn in. This temptation wasn't as strong.
"In the meantime," he turned his attention back to O-Ren and Boss Rankiku, "Why don't you tell me a little more about what you have in mind for this assignment?" He asked in a voice as cool and calm as ice water. He knew O-Ren was just eating this up....Rankiku was hard to read, even for Bill. He could only hope that the Japanese man didn't find any of this oh-so-American situation humor too offensive. But Bill, no matter how rattled he was, would never show it....at least, that was the idea.
"Rankiku tells me that the man we will be dealing with is of Japanese heritage born in America. He keeps to the traditional ways of the samurai but is none for adding rather provocative and bizarre twists to his torture and fighting tactics," O-Ren explained. She kept calm but she was brimming with sadistic inner thoughts.
"I was thinking of Elle as first choice but putting pros and cons together I believe Beatrix would suit the job better."
Bill raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly, "Provocative and bizarre twists?" Ok...that sounded strange right off the bat. "Is the man some sort of sadist?" This wouldn't be the first time they had had to deal with such types. The world never ceased to nurture the most twisted of individuals. (This coming from Bill) Beatrix had already had a few bad experiences on assignments...and his personal interest had deepened somewhat more since then.
"So," he sat back again, fingers steepled, "we are talking about a traditional samurai warrior who isn't exactly following the methods of the traditional samurai." Bill found the contradiction interesting at least. "O-Ren would you mind telling me why you think Beatrix is better suited than Elle for this assignment." Was Bill testing her? Or was he genially interested? Hard to tell. He gave a small nod to Boss Rankiku, "Boss Rankiku, is it appropriate to ask what this man has done to offend you? It may help." There was always a causal probing in Bill's questions that somehow wavered between his own personal interests and complex mind games designed for some purpose or another.
Boss Rankiku finally spoke up. His voice was chiseled but held defining dignity. He spoke in Japanese which was preferred from his choppy English. "This man; Karn Trank, has taken many of my best clients and has used them for his own speculation and...entertainment."
O-Ren sat there, arms crossed over her chest, her eyes studying Bill cautiously. "Trask has preformed sacrificial rituals on humans, disembowelments, and other obscenities," she explained slowly. The idea of these means of torture did not make the woman cringe but she held partial empathy.
"I have lost numerous clients because of this man and I want him finished."
"As you can see," O-Ren unfolded her arms to let hands fold in her lap. "Elle would not be appropriate to deal with Trask. She is sadistic in her own means and putting two and two together could be messy. Beatrix can be just as much as sadist but she adds logic."
Bill's expression made a subtle shift to a frown. "Ah, I see." So, things made a little more sense now.
"Boss Rankiku," Bill addressed the Japanese man in his own foreign tongue, "Your anger is understandable. I will see to it that this man...Karn Trask is eliminated. Consider it done." He didn't say anything about Beatrix yet. Bill vividly remembered when he had volunteered her against her own will for an assignment...one that had gone quite sour. He wasn't about to set himself up for that blame again.
He did see O-Ren's point about Elle though....the woman would most likely end up joining the sick fucker. Beatrix would indeed be a far more appropriate choice. He fixed his gaze on O-Ren. "I can't say it sounds all too comforting, but I have no doubt Beatrix will find it......at the very least, of interest." He wasn't exactly sure why he was speaking for Beatrix, she was more than able to speak for herself....then again, he rarely ever let his employees pick and choose assignments. Elle's angry words from the other night came back into his mind.....perhaps he was playing favorites far too much. A snap decision was made in the name of getting back some good old fashioned bastard footing on this whole thing.
Bill waved a hand, looking pensive, "Very well, I'll send Beatrix."
A smile came over O-Ren's features that appeared almost too happy. Boss Rankiku gave a solemn nod to Bill and rose to his feet. "I thank you for your time and I have no doubt my problem will be eliminated by the week's end." With that the Japanese man turned to leave.
Beatrix was coming out of the bedroom clad in the clothing she wore the other night. As the Japanese man passed her way she gave a nod of respect and continued to the living room.
"Pack your bags, Bea," O-Ren informed. Beatrix stopped abruptly looking a tad confused. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me correctly, silly rabbit. Stop playing dumb blonde." O-Ren retorted her tone laced with bitter sweetness. She stood up. "I would fill you in but, I must drive Boss Rankiku to the airport." O-Ren started graceful strides to the door. She cast a glance over her shoulder. "I'll be in touch."
The door slammed and Beatrix turned on Bill hotly. "Do me the simple courtesy of telling me what the hell just happened."
"I just volunteered you for an assignment," he said matter of factly, standing up from the couch and straightening his shirt, "If you hadn't spent so much damn long primping you might of had time to put in a word for yourself." A barely concealed smirk, "But, I'm afraid I had to make an executive decision on your part. Boss Rankiku appeared to want a quick decision....I gave him one." He met her fiery look, "I'm a businessman, first and foremost....and I must make decisions based on the interests of business....not on those of personal interest." He swept past her, towards the hallway, "Besides, your going to like this one....some fucking asshole samurai who apparently likes to perform sado-masochistic rituals...disembowelment....sick perverted shit," he gave her a wink, "Right up your alley Kiddo."
He was kidding, he was being serious, he was fucking around, he was all business and at the same time not completely....this was Bill, charming bastard extraordinaire...at least that was his self given title. He turned his back, heading down the hallway. He knew she was pissed...that was a given and the worst thing about it, was that part of him really cared.
It was funny how you could care about a person so much and than the next minute despise them completely. And Beatrix was despising Bill with a passion. It wasn't just the matter of his attitude that was a given trait that she grew use to but the manner in which he supplied it irked her. She never had picking, choosing rights to her assignments and it never really bothered her but what did was that he was fucking with it.
She shook her head at him as he passed by in evident dislike. Her expression clearly reading 'you fucking bastard'. She turned to watch him depart down the hallway. "A sado-masochistic bastard, huh? You sure I'm not being sent to kill you, Bill?" She questioned coolly.
Bill froze in mid-step at the end of the hallway. He remained with his back turned to Beatrix for a few seconds. Then he slowly turned around, hair falling across his face. He planted his feet firmly and stood facing her, his hands in his pockets.
It looked like some old west showdown transported to the location of a long hallway. One could almost see a hay barrel come rolling by, and hear the trademark whistle from "The Good the Bad and the Ugly".
Bill raised his chin, meeting Beatrix's furious glare. It was obvious he was rapidly flipping through a number of various responses to her comment. Bill couldn't give a shit about name calling; he was often the one to call himself such names. But, he knew Beatrix had said it to get a cheap low blow on him. Not only that, but he really did not like the sound of "kill" and "Bill" in the same sentence....it was unsettling.
He turned his head, making another snap decision. "I believe you know the way out," he said in a frosty even voice.
Without a given response Beatrix hastily turned on her heels and walked to the door. On her way out she snatched up the manila folder on the table. She didn't slam the door upon exiting but closed it loud enough to get a nonverbal point across. She hadn't expected for her low blow to hit so hard but she wasn't about to take it back nor apologize. She had departed for assignments on bitter terms thousands of times before and this time didn't seem any different.
San Francisco, Soho District. 4:37pm.
The bus was crowded. An unholy mix of odors and body heat pressed up against the windows. Traffic was stop and go and the bus was continuously making sudden stops....to a nauseating point. Elderly Asian women held tightly to their purses and suave looking businessmen mixed in with the young yuppies and a handful of wannabe gangster types.
In the middle of this cultural mix, stood Karn Trask, his hand wrapped securely around a high handle, his other hand clutched a paper bag against his body. His head was completely shaved and waxed to a glossy luster. A pair of large black sunglasses hid his eyes, but a pair of high Japanese brows edged over the top of the thick frames. He wasn't particularly tall, but his relatively baggy drab clothing hid a rock hard frame of muscle. His age was hard to pinpoint, somewhere in his early to mid thirties perhaps. His features were full Japanese. His biggest distinguishing mark was a deep pressed scar that ran vertically down one corner of his mouth. This mark often made it look like he was always frowning. But that was a wrong assumption; Karn Trask liked to smile quite a bit.
The bus came to yet another jarring stop. Karn, along with a number of other passengers filed out of the vehicle and onto the crowded street. Without hesitation, Karn turned left and began walking down the sidewalk with a sense of purpose. He barely glanced at the people he passed and often nearly ran into. His only other movement besides walking, was to swap the paper bag to his other arm, still pressing it against his chest.
Karn continued walking for a good ten blocks before he came to a stop. The Marriot tower loomed over him. Quickly he planted himself down on the wide stone steps and lit a cigarette, looking as if he had been sitting there for hours. He watched the endless line of cars pull up to the curb. Bellhops and door attendants in silly pseudo-military looking uniforms helped incoming guests with their luggage, up the steps and into the hotel.
None of these people interested him. He knew exactly what he was looking for; it was only a matter of time.
Karn didn't have to wait too long. He was only on his third cigarette, when a yellow San Francisco Cab Company car pulled up to the hotel curb. A tall lean blonde woman got out. She had little luggage and she moved with intensity and very little joy.
This woman was the assassin; Karn could have spotted her in an auditorium full of tall blondes.
The woman, wearing sunglasses and dressed casually but fashionably slung her bag over her shoulder and refusing help from the bellhop made her way up the stairs and through the large double glass doors of the Marriott. Casually, Karn flicked his cigarette away and stood up. Casting a glance at the hotel's employees on the curb, he turned and climbed the stairs...following the tracks of the blonde assassin.
"It should be under Paniton," the tall blonde woman pointed out to the desk clerk. Beatrix Kiddo was standing in front of the desk, her medium sized duffle bag nestled between her legs and the counter. She was clad in a casual set of blue jeans, button up pale blue shirt, and a caramel colored leather jacket, a pair of boots to top it off. Blonde locks of hair were set down to frame her frustrated features.
"I'm sorry ma'am but we do not have anyone by that name," the desk clerk informed the blonde. He was a younger man with dashing looks and dimples, but he was obviously intimidated by Beatrix. Not that she gave a shit. "Okay," Bea began, folding white hands on the counter and leaned forward. "Try--Bill."
Karn had been watching the blonde assassin from a nearby bench. A good sized potted fern kept most of his face hidden as he watched her banter with the young desk clerk.
She leaned over the counter. Yes, she was very attractive, very. He really wanted to hear what was being said, but the ongoing hum of background noise made it nearly impossible to discern anything. Although, he did clearly here the name "Bill" uttered by the assassin. He slowly brought a hand up to move more of the fern leaves out of the way. He liked the way she had her duffel smashed up against the counter. Suddenly he felt a stab of pain in his hand, and he looked down to realize he had been pressing the paper bag too hard against his chest. A bright, razor sharp tip stuck out of the newly ripped bag. Karn reclosed the bag and looked at his bleeding forefinger with far too much interest. Sticking the bloody digit into his mouth contently he brought his attention back up to the desk.
The clerk gave her a puzzled expression but this expression heightened when he said, "Yes. Room 131. I'll get your key." Hands unfolded and Beatrix raked long fingers through her bangs. Her mood couldn't have been sourer and the frustrations of traveling weren't helping. As the clerk returned she hastily snatched the key and went on her way.
If she wasn't in such a pissy mood perhaps the blonde warrior would have taken notice to the prickling at her spine but she didn't. She jabbed the elevator button and waited with little patience for the elevator to arrive.
Just in time too...the assassin had just received her key, her dilemma apparently solved and was quickly making her way for the elevator. The large key ring, flashed his direction...the white plastic glinting off the track lighting. It was hard to read...something 31...perhaps a1 before that.....
Karn slipped off the bench, his injured hand dipped into his jacket. He bent down as if to get a closer look at the plant, his eyes up, watching over his sunglasses. The assassin stepped into the elevator and disappeared.
He walked over to the desk that the blonde had just departed from. Catching the attention of the young desk attendant, Karn spoke in completely unaccented English, a low voice, "I'd like a room...preferably on the first floor...afraid of heights." He flashed a smile, which looked a bit odd on him.
The desk attendant looked him over, "Uh..yes of course sir..." He scrutinized the desk computer monitor, "Well..let's see.."
"I would prefer Room 131...." Karn said, taking his chance. He knew this tactic would only work once.
The young man looked up, giving Karn a strange look.
"My mother's birthday was on January 31st...." he let sadness seep into his voice, "She recently passed away...I would like to-"
"I'm sorry sir," the desk attendant shook his head, glancing back down at the screen, "I just rented out 131.....but I do have 231, or 115 available if you would like them."
Karn nodded solemnly, "115 then please."
Within a few moments, the transaction was processed and Karn stepped onto the elevator his set of keys in his hand. When he got to the first floor, nobody was in the hallway, save for a bent over maid who was pushing her cart away from him.
Once in his room, Karn wasted little time. He set the bag down and picked up the phone near the bed. He dialed room service. "Yes, hello...this is....Bill in room 131....I'd like to place an order....."
The room wasn't shabby. The walls were painted in a burgundy color, matching carpet, and bed set. There was a desk in the corner with a oak chair, cabinet with a television inside, cabinet, powder room, and bathroom. Considering the terms Beatrix left on Bill showed curiously on the room he picked out. She wouldn't dare say the nice room made up for anything and Bill sure as hell hadn't meant it to be so. Especially with the challenge it took to even get the room. Bastard.
Beatrix spent the next hour unpacking. She had brought two sets of spare clothes, toiletries, firearms, and her samurai sword. If this nut job was a samurai fighter then her own skills could come in handy. Not that she was thrilled to use it. Bill did give it to her and she was bitter towards the weapon. She put the sheathed blade in the closet behind the hanging blouses. A simple 9mm was tucked beneath the pillow on the bed that was performed out of habit. Suppressing a yawn, boots padded on the carpet as she took steps to the bathroom to freshen up. Her steps were ceased as the door bell buzzed. She froze, blonde head turning over her shoulder, and blue eyes stared cautiously at the door.
"Room service," came a muffled but auditable tone from outside. Slender brows furrowed. "I didn't order any room service," she called to the door as she took steps to approach it.
There was a long pause from behind the door.
"Well...uh....ma'am....we received a call from this room for room service for crab, a rack of lamb, oyster shooters, a side of clams, lobster appetizers a bottle of chardonnay and a bottle of 1978 Pinot Nior" Another pause, "I am assuming you are not....Bill...." There was the shuffle of some paper from behind the door, "Ma'am....the total does come to $578.42, excluding tips and taxes." Awkward silence. "There are no returns on room service perishables ma'am....and we did receive an order for these items from a Bill in room 131."
Karn watched the two room service attendants from down the hallway. He'd cracked his own door open enough to hear and see everything. So far everything was going according to how he'd envisioned it.
"Ma'am," the room service attendant exchanged glances with the other, "It would be best if we could speak to you face to face about this matter...." Karn's eyes narrowed under his sunglasses, his strong body taunt to jump at his opportunity.
Beatrix's first interpretation was that Bill set this all up just to irk her. But, oyster shooters? Bill knew she hated that type of thing. What did make her laugh internally was that they called her 'Bill'. This bit of amusement didn't last long. Scowling in aggravation she peered through the peephole to be sure these were two hotel lackeys. Their unsteady attitudes and penguin suit outfits clarified this and she pulled the door open.
Blue eyes darted down to the exquisite arrangement of food and wine before coming up to the two men. Blue eyes flickered with annoyance and mild curiosity. "I didn't order this," she stated in a cool tone. She tried to appear non-threatening but she could tell by the way the two men were watching her that they were a little more than uncomfortable. "And, I'm not paying for it. You must have the wrong room number."
The two hotel attendants exchanged another glance, as if this sort of annoying thing happened all of the time. Idiots who ordered every expensive thing they could think of and then refuse to pay for it. Usually they were trying to impress some woman but when it came down to paying for it they couldn't manage the price tag.
"Ma'am," one of the men began with a poor attempt at a cool demeanor, "We know Bill is around, he ordered this stuff, I assure you. So if you could just please get him for us, we'll gladly be on our w-" But the man was cut short. The two attendants had foolishly but expectedly left the door partially open and Karn, now moving with extreme speed and precision burst into the room. Within seconds he'd impaled one of the men with his large knife, a barbed hunting knife and with one swift motion sliced the man down the middle of his chest down to his groin. The man's insides spilled out onto the carpet, his body following immediately thereafter. The second man screamed and tried to make a run for it. Karn kicked the cart over, pinning the man down with it. A plethora of expensive food went spilling everywhere.....mixing rather disgustingly with the innards of the first man.
Leaping onto the second attendant, Karn picked up the crab and shoved it roughly into the man's open mouth. The man suffocated rather quickly as Karn pushed in further down his throat. Karn found all of this rather exciting, and a sadistic grin appeared on his face. Brandishing the knife like a true expert, he leapt over the cart and fixed his gaze on Beatrix. He'd lost his sunglasses during all of this and his cold hazel eyes fixed on her.
"What do you think of my well prepared meal?"
"Nauseating," Beatrix admitted dryly as blue eyes stared wide at the food and organs on the floor. She had seen a hell of a lot of things in her life time and for some reason disembowelment made her queasy. Perhaps being the reason she never cut someone down the middle or taken out any vital organs even if she was capable of it.
She was surely caught off guard by the whole display. She had had assassins of her target come after her but she never had the target himself show up. This left her unprepared but not completely. Long white fingers snaked down to her hip where her SOG was concealed. She whipped it out and held it poised in front of her. Her expression turned hard, blue hues glinting for blood, and her mouth was tight. Obviously having gotten past her point of nausea rather quickly she stared him down, taking him in.
Karn tilted his head to the side, "Can't please them all I suppose." He smiled icily, watching her as she went for her knife...his own readily in front of him, blood oozing down the barbed blade. "SOG," he nodded, "Good weapon....not quite my taste though." As if to emphasize this with the world's worst pun, he took a little lick off of blade as if he did this sort of thing all of the time. He laughed, "You find my behavior revolting? I certainly hope so...." The smile dropped, as he advanced on her. Unlike some of Beatrix's previous targets, Karn did not underestimate Beatrix's abilities. If she had been sent after him, he knew she had to be good. If not, she was going to last about thirty seconds longer.
"Do you know what a sadomasochist is my tall blonde friend?" He said, as he continued to slowly move closer, "Of course you do.....all assassins are sadomasochistic deep down. But let me refresh your memory.....according to Webster's dictionary a sadomasochist is...an individual who derives pleasure from the infliction of physical or mental pain either on others or on oneself." He smirked, slowly turning the knife handle in his hand, the blade now facing down in true "Psycho" fashion. "I would much prefer to have a nice romanticized sword battle with you.....but I'm afraid my needs have gone far beyond traditional methods." His slanted eyes widened a little, "It's beyond my better control or judgment at this point. But, I know I'm going to get more than enough pleasure out of this.....believe me...." His blade flashed out at Beatrix.
Beatrix readily dodged the striking blade. For reasons of her own judgment she did not comment. This guy was off his rocker. It had been awhile since Beatrix dealt with a real psycho but that didn't mean she was any less prepared just a little taken aback. Sure, Elle was a heinous psycho but at least she wasn't sickly grotesque about it.
The world didn't need another sadomasochist like Karn Trask. His sadism went too far for comfort. Either way she'd make sure the man had a 'pleasurable' death worthy of a sadist. Her grip tight on her weapon of choice and one of her favorite weapons she made an advance forward and made a quick slash at him. Knifes met in a loud clang. Beatrix didn't press on her side but let off and jumped back. Sweat already began to pool along her temples, sticking bangs to her forehead.
"Hrm, yes...that's good." He said in a more than overtly sexual tone as their knife blades met. He had been right, she was an expert. At least those fucking yakuza bosses hadn't insulted him by sending some amateur....that made it all that much better. He knew at some point they would tire of him "experimenting" on their clients......too bad...those had been some good times.
Blue eyes bored daggers into him. With little effort and and allot of talent she flicked her wrist to reposition her blade if he came at her with another attack. Karn smiled, again rather sadistically.
The blonde was proving to be an adept knife fighter, as she easily parried his slashes. A sheen of sweat was becoming visible on Karn's shaved head, veins in his temples rising from exertion. Suddenly he threw the large knife past Beatrix's head. The long blade dug into the nearby wall. "Ha!" He yelled, and flipping backwards he kicked her in the chin. Karn was a weapons man.....weapons caused more pain and drew more blood....but he was not against using his own body if needed.
He reached down and drew two switchblades out from previously hidden ankle holsters. These were small knifes, but incredibly sharp. He held the handles up, and flipped the blades out simultaneously. His eyes flicked up to Beatrix, "Sadly, these can't disembowel people....but you can carve the most lovely pictures in skin...." His gaze strayed to her arms, her neck...as if contemplating exactly what pictures those would be, "Soon...very soon..." he mumbled to himself, and once again came at her.
Eyes widened. "Fuck." She quickly preformed an elegant back flip and came to her own two feet after being hit down with a quick kick to the chin. Her lips glistened with crimson tint but that didn't mask the intensity in her eyes. She'd preferred not to have any pretty pictures decorated on her body. She wasn't talented in art; her stick figures even came out sloppy so art on her own body was out of the question. She even despised the idea of tattoos. Killer instincts and techniques clicked into place as Black Mamba made a mad dash past him.
She ran to the closet, pulled it open, and snatched out her blade with effortless ease. Feeling more content with her sword and not feeling remorse towards the idea that Bill gave it to her she turned to face her attacker. She parried one of the switch blades, knocking the other away as if it were a simple toy. One blade on the floor and the other stuck in a mattress. Hands gripped the handle, knuckles turning white, as she returned to fighting stance. "Call me old school," her tone light but leaking venom. Ugh, she was sounding like Bill. Fucking bastard was rubbing off on her. "But I happen to like the idea of romanticized sword fights."
Karn's eyes widened again at the display of the sword. He didn't even seem to mind that he had lost one of his switchblades. "That is a beautiful weapon," he breathed. Karn had been trained in the ways of the samurai since he had been a boy. It was only until his....urges had taken him away from the art of the blade, that he had stopped following the traditional samurai ways. A brief look of sadness and regret crossed Karn's twisted features, but it was quickly gone.
His eyes raked along the long glinted curving blade, to the engraving which was impossible to make out at the angle, down to the handle. Even the polished black scabbard with the silver twisting snakes on it held fascination. For the first time in this battle, Karn gave Beatrix a truly haughty look. "You must be very good to know how to use a sword like that......you could easily cut yourself," his voice dropped, "...very, very bloody indeed."
Karn took a few steps back, eyes darting around the room. He spun towards the nearby wooden end table. He picked the table up, sending whatever was on top of it flying onto the floor. He then broke the table over his knee, tearing away one of the long legs.
Karn brandished the round wooden leg like a sword, evident skill in his handling. He spun the "sword" around in a set of impressive sword maneuvers. Karn knew that her blade would most likely chop the leg in half, but it was something.....and if he could get his hands on that lovely blade in her hands.....well, he'd show this blonde warrior a thing or two about bloody satisfaction.
The last thing Beatrix ever expected was for Karn to use the wooden leg as a weapon. That was something that she would use and had used times before. What bothered her the most about this was that she used that technique. That was her technique and seeing some sick sadomasochistic bastard use it was truly unsettling. Did that mean they were alike? Yes, all killers were sadomasochistic at heart, she wouldn't deny that but--
He swished the board at her knees. Beatrix hadn't been paying attention but evaded the attack nearly. As the wood came inches to contact with the side of her legs she quickly jumped up and landed on the bed. The mattress was soft making her stumble to catch her balance and keep a steady grip on the blade. She caught the glint in his eye and felt she had to protect her sword as if it were her baby. It had sentimental value no matter how pissed off she was at the 'gift-giver'. Her breathing was coming quick, nostrils flared, sweat soaking her brow and bangs, her body swaying against the unsteady mattress; she waited for the next attack.
Karn followed suit by leaping onto the mattress, while he simultaneously swung the wooden leg with vicious tenacity. He not only swung once, but three times...low, mid and high...all alternated with full body spins. Sure, it was fancy and it looked cool...but there was an alternative motive. The more Karn could jostle the mattress around, the more likely Beatrix was going to lose her balance. And if she lost her balance......she was at a major disadvantage. But Karn had seen enough of her fighting to know she was probably very aware of this fact. It was obvious she'd been trained. Not only on techniques, but in practical fighting thought processes. So far, she was keeping her footing very well.
Karn's second objective was to avoid contacting the wooden leg with her sword. It was his only weapon at the moment, a pretty lame one, but it was all he had. Thus far, he'd managed this by taking large swipes at her, that were easier for her to dodge than parry.
His third objective; to get that sword in his own hands. It would make a good addition to his already large collection. Then, he was going to cut this bitch up....nice and slow....
Beatrix evaded all of his swings so far but she was slowly losing accuracy. It was hard to keep balance of a surface such as a mattress and still be proficient. Another swipe from the Karn's weapon made Bea jump out of the way. Usually she had been keeping her back to the head board so if she were to jump back and loose her footing she'd hit a wall and not the edge of the bed. This time around her calculations were off and she missed the wall entirely.
She wavered on the edge of the mattress, a hand reluctantly coming off her blade and reaching for the head board to grab on to. Karn was smart and took this to an advantage. He swung the board back around and before she could get a full jump over to evade the attack, the board made contact with her stomach.
The blonde warrior was sent flying across the room and colliding into the adjacent wall. Her body slid to the floor in a slump, hands nestling to her stomach as she gasped to fill her burning lungs with air. She was aware of the poundage in her head that upon contact she had made a dent in the wall. Only emphasizing the mileage upon the hit was taken.
This didn't knock Black Mamba down for long. In seconds she was back into a sitting position, grasping to her-- Her stomach sunk. Fuck, where was her sword?
Karn let out a yell of triumph as he jumped off of the bed. He tossed the wooden leg aside, his full attention now on the assassin's dropped blade that was lying a mere foot away. He scooped the weapon up, feeling the weight and balance of the blade. His eyes strayed to the small inscription near the hilt. "Bill.....so there is a Bill...." he murmured. Well, that part would have to grinded down before he put the sword up with the others.
Karn turned to face Beatrix, who was sitting up against the wall. He smiled past the blade, at her crouched form. He took an advancing step towards her, but then stopped. "No..wait...something's not right...." he mumbled, again...it appeared to be more of an internal conversation. Karn set the sword back down on the bed. He then proceeded to remove his shirt. This revealed a somewhat bizarre sight. It was obvious he had taken great pains to build up a good amount of muscle mass....something that would take hours of working out a day. But, it took a strange twist at the endless tracks of scars that ran over his skin. Deep scars, that covered nearly inch. There were some partial symbols and writing...others were just angry scribbles. These weren't light cuts either...but deep tearing ones, and most obviously self inflicted. The only part he had left untouched was a tattoo on his right bicep of a samurai sword and some Japanese writing, but the ink was very faded...as if it had been there for many decades.
Karn turned back to the sword and picked it up. "Now, this is right," he said. Advancing towards Beatrix, he swung the sword skillfully, as it to get a handle on its unique properties. He stopped when he was loomed right over the blonde warrior. He gazed down at her, "The fun begins...."
Beatrix's attention had been drawn to the obscure and bizarre decorations on his body. If he had taken his shirt off to play as a distraction it was working. She knew of self-inflicted wounds that people usually take when depressed and sadists used to gain pleasure. But, this took the whole idea of self infliction to a new level.
Staring was rude, she scolded herself internally and tore her gaze just in time. Her own blade was in Karn's possession and that infuriated the blonde. There was nothing like the sight of one's enemy with your 'favorite' weapon. She'd take it back, eventually.
As he made a swift maneuver and well trained strike with the blade, whether it was to mock or take off a limb, Beatrix moved. She jumped to hands and knees in an almost pathetic attempt to get back to the bed. She knew what she needed it was just the matter of getting to it without mutilation.
Karn laughed, not exactly a comforting laugh either. He flipped the sword to his other hand, apparently just as adept with it as the other. He watched the blonde assassin crawl for a moment. She could crawl around all she wanted.....it wasn't going to get her anywhere, besides he rather liked watching her do so. "See how easy it is," he addressed her, "With the weapon of the samurai in my hand, you become instantly submissive and inferior to myself." He suddenly snarled and leaped after her, taking a few decisive strikes at her...but she was able to dodge them all. Karn had never seen anybody dodge so much as this blonde warrior. "Your luck is going to run out," he breathed through his physical exertion, "Like a from a cat...." He swung once more, but the blade became temporarily lodged in the wooden TV cabinet. Cursing, and knowing full well his mistake, Karn began wrenching the blade free.
Beatrix took a fleeting glance over her shoulder to spy his dilemma. A sly grin tugged at her lips. Perfect. She crawled to the side of the bed and made a leap for the pillow where she drew out a weapon of her own. As Karn wedged the blade free of its captivity he now came face to face with a rather irate blonde with a fully loaded 9mm. Not the most threatening gun in the world but a handy one for situations such as these.
She was positioned in the corner of the room, arms extended against the mattress, hands tight to the trigger, and kneeling on her knees. "Drop it," she demanded coldly. "Or I'll happily distort one of those pretty pictures on your chest."
Again, Karn laughed...blatant disregard for an armed weapon pointed right at him. He didn't appear to care one bit. "Shoot me," his voice dropped to an almost sensuous tone, "Please.....do it..." A slow smile crept onto his face. He did not lower the sword, instead in a lightning quick motion he switched his grip on the handle and threw the sword at Beatrix. The blade went straight for her head, but instead it caught the corner of her jacket pinning her up against the corner of the walls. The blade lodged itself deep in the wall. Obviously, Karn had very purposefully done this....an extremely difficult maneuver. Karn, took the opportunity of her briefly lowered weapon to leap across the mattress and kick the pistol out her hand. The gun went skidding a few feet away. Quickly switching feet, he kicked her in the face...causing her head to bounce off the wall.
He then knelt down in front of her. "You see what I mean...it was only a matter of time...." He raised a hand and put it up to her bleeding mouth. He pulled away after a moment, his fingers now glistening with a good coating of blood. He studied them intently for a minute and then very purposefully he smeared his hand across his chest, grinding the blood into the deep scars in his skin. "Now...." he breathed, sounding a little excited with himself, "....you are part of me...forever...," he grinned creepily, "The blonde warrior who almost killed me...yes you will be with me, even when you're body is long gone." He tilted his head to side, as if trying to implore her to understand something very important, "You must realize....this contact is far more....intimate than any other available to us mere human beings." His voice dropped to a barely audible whisper, "It's very special...."
Beatrix could feel the gash in the back of her head trickling blood to blend with blonde locks. The impact causing her great distortion and pain. It had been quite some time since the Black Mamba had endured such a beating. This was either because her recent targets had been weak or she was loosing her touch, or this guy was that good. Not likely.
She didn't feel special she felt disgusted. The mere thought of being one with such a sick bastard made her stomach perform back flips. If she ever would be one with anyone it would be Bill and that was even debatable. Blue eyes watched him, sparking with fierce intensity and pure hatred. Her breathing was labored, nostrils flared, blood coated lips in a tight line with little emotion evident, except to the fact this blonde was furious. She leaned her head back against the wall gingerly and spat a pool of blood in his face. Just to show him how special she really felt.
Normally, such a thing would cause most people to become either revolted and or really pissed off. But not Karn, the fact that she spit blood in his face only caused him more pleasure. He grinned, using his own hand to wipe to blood smattering all over his face like some sort of war paint. "Now, you're getting the right idea...." he said in that same breathy tone of voice.
Reaching around Beatrix's head, he yanked the sword out from the wall. The shimmering blade remained unscratched and unbent....a sure sign of an impeccable sword. He brought the blade up vertically in front of her face, her own reflection staring back at her. "This is how it works......," he tilted the blade horizontally, "First....my turn," with a vicious movement, he dragged the tip of the blade along his upper arm, causing a wide gash to immediately open. There was a brief flicker of pain across Karn's features, but it was quickly gone...replaced again by that inane look of sadistic pleasure. He turned that look back to Beatrix, letting his arm openly bleed. "Next...your turn...." he let the blade hover over her arm, mirroring his own injury, "...don't worry...you'll like it....eventually...."
Blue eyes went wide in horror. Beatrix felt sick to her stomach and she had to gulp down the lump in her throat. She wasn't scared, she was never scared but that didn't mean she couldn't be uneasy. She was defenseless and vulnerable. She hated it, despised it with a passion. Her gaze darted to the blade, her own blade that was just begging to tear her flesh, she tore away to steadily examine her surroundings. Nothing. Not even a fucking paper clip on the floor, which she could have easily turned into a deadly weapon.
So, the infamous Black Mamba was at a disadvantage. She was cornered but not yet defeated. Instead of cowering in fear she stared him down with an eerier calm facade. Her words came soft and challenging and in Japanese dialect no less, "Do you're worst."
Karn raised his eyebrows. So, she spoke Japanese as well. Even better. "The worst is yet to come," he replied in Japanese, "But this is a start."
Without hesitation he repeated the same cut he had just applied to himself to her arm. His expression remained completely neutral. As with his own arm, blood instantly began to ooze out of the large gash as her jacket took on a dark red tint. There were quite a few large veins that ran through that area of the arm....not as bad as say slitting one's wrist...but nothing to take lightly either.
Karn licked his lips, slowly raising the blade out of her skin. "Very good....now...we repeat." He swung the blade back to himself and drug it across his chest in a slow line. Again, a brief flicker of pain on his face...that was quickly replaced by pure contentment. Another open wound that bleed somewhat less than the first....but appeared equally as nasty. He reformed his grip on the sword's handle, bringing it back to face the Japanese speaking blonde warrior. He tilted the blade horizontally at her chest, "Now...well...I think you get the idea," he said with a sick twinkle in his eye.
Fuck, that hurt. The increased amount of breathing and gleaming sweat verified this. Beatrix had let out a yelp of pain when the blade tore through her skin and left a large gash. It hurt more internally knowing that was her own blade that was inflicting pain on her. She was never a self-inflictor but at this moment she felt like one.
She turned her head to stare at the crimson droplets that were steadily creating a pool on the floor. If he didn't kill her soon she'd most likely die of blood loss without any aid to her open wound. That was no acceptable. The only person that could kill her was---well, it wasn't this bastard. Her next move could be documented in the assassins handbook of idiotic maneuvers but she this was a desperate attempt. As the glinting metal inched towards her chest her hand snapped out and grabbed the blade. Long white fingers wrapped around it tight, her features contorting in pain as blood slipped through her fingertips. This could end either way; she'd be able to get a hit in or grip the sharp blade too tightly causing a few precious fingers to be lost. Lucky for Beatrix she was to cause enough leverage between the blade and herself before it dug into her flesh. She brought her other arm forward and with a flat palm smashed it into his own chest.
This was the last thing Karn had expected. Here he had been inflicting pain in the name of self infliction....and she went ahead and did it herself....in the name of self preservation. His eyes briefly flicked down to her hand on the blade before he was slammed backwards by the palm to his chest. This hurt more than normal due to gash he had just cut into himself and he lot out a yelp of pain and surprise. Karn fell onto his back, gasping and clinging to his chest. He tried to retain a grip on the sword's handle, but it slipped...mainly because of the amount of sweat and blood on his palm. Hand clasping onto his chest, he attempted to sit up, "That.....was against the rules...." he grated.
"I tend to cheat," Beatrix retorted bitterly. The tall blonde with blood and sweat gleaming on her slender body stood over him. Her blade was back in hand and poised at his chest cavity. Blue eyes showed no remorse or sympathy only determination and a boost of adrenaline. She idly inched the sword forward so that it now came to rest against Karn's upper right chest region. Her pretty blonde head tilted to the side and brows furrowed as if she were trying to make a clear decision. "So," she breathed. "I could inflict massive amounts of pain upon you in a slow, torturous death or quick and clean."
Her feet shifted. "I'm gonna go with quick and clean cause I know that you woulda wanted it the other way. I cannot allow you that satisfaction."
Karn stared up at the tall blonde looming over him. A look of sheer disbelief was on his face. Nobody.....nobody had ever bested him such a way. It was unthinkable.....He blinked, unable to fully recognize he was about to die. He licked his lips, breathing heavy. "You are a warrior....a warrior must choose his own path.....I would prefer you allow me to die slowly....but what I prefer is not for you to honor....." he spoke in Japanese. If he was going to die and burn in hell....he was going to go speaking his native language. His breathing became harsh, as the reality set in. Karn lost any real sense of calm that he had been clinging onto. "No," he yelled, still in Japanese. He began ripping at the gash in his chest with fervor....he'd rather bleed to death than go so quickly. With a look of furiousness on his face, he dug his fingers into his bloody chest...hell bent on killing himself.
Lips parted a few inches. She couldn't find words to describe what she was witnessing. The partial shock subsided and her lips came together in a firm set. She wouldn't allow him the pleasure of taking his own life in such a manner. Beatrix Kiddo quickly flipped her samurai sword over her head with talent and ease. Both hands now tight to the handle, her features void of emotion, she brought the blade down horizontal to Karn's body, the blade thrust through his chest to make contact with the floor on the other side.
Lids squinted as blood sprayed into her face and she listened to his last gargles of breath before he slipped, quickly, into hell. A muscle spasm followed before Karn went completely limp. The blonde warrior removed her blade and tried not to gag at the squishing of blood and internal organs as the sword came out. With a quick flick of the wrist the cool steal took back its shinning glint, free of blood stains.
Her katana returned to its rightful owner she stepped over the body and packed up.
Many hours later when Beatrix arrived at Bill's place to fill him in this rather bloody assignment, it was nearing dusk. There were no cars in the circular lot, which wasn't all that uncommon. Bill generally kept his large number of cars parked in the back in a private secured garage. The outer house lights were on, including the small foot lights scattered throughout the front patio.
When the door was opened, it was not Bill but Nikishi who answered. The short Japanese woman smiled graciously up at Beatrix. She was becoming much more familiar with the tall blonde coming around and was slowly warming up to her. "Hello Beatrix," Nikishi nodded, speaking in her soft but firm tone, "Bill is not here now. He is in New York for business matters. He does not yet know when he will return." She folded her hands across her silk kimono, "He said to tell you.....eh.." she paused, searching for his message. She smiled, remembering, "He said......he will be very happy to hear about your mission when he returns...because he is a sado-masochistic bastard and will relish every gory detail with utmost perverted pleasure. He also said to tell you that he is not fucking around." Another smile, "Yes...yes I think that was all of it. Would you like to come in and have some tea, I-"
But Nikishi was cut off by the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. A dark emerald green convertible came swinging around to the front of the patio, the radio blaring. Vernita sat in the front seat, her hair in tight braids. She flashed a bright white smile at Beatrix, "Come on Bea," she called, "get your sweet white ass in the car....we're going out."
The past few hours had sucked but upon receiving Bill's quaint little message the tall blonde became more chipper. It was always a thrilling surprise when she 'won' an argument. But as Bill had clearly stated before when winning a battle whether it physical or mental each side lost something. She was unsure what she gained or lost from that hostile bickering either way that wasn't her top priority.
An amused and monotone facade crossed her weary features. She held up a hand to shield her eyes from the glaring head lights to spy the dark skinned woman in the front seat. Blue eyes glittered and she turned back to Nikishi. Beatrix was growing to like the woman. She always had but seeing the woman was gaining more of a respect for her balanced the beam.
"Hold on," she called to Vernita and turned back to Nikishi. "Thank you for the message Nikishi. If you see Bill before I, which is likely, tell him; that he is not yet forgiven and I take nothing back, but, do thank him for not fucking around." She offered a warm smile before turning on her heels and sauntered off to the car.
Nikishi nodded, smiling gently...perhaps with a little humor as well. "Yes, I will give him your message Beatrix." She watched the tall blonde get into the car, then turned and shut the door behind her.
Beatrix was overly exhausted but she was gaining back her second wind. She also had a heavy amount of pain killers in her pocket if she got fed up with fighting the pain herself and needed some 'assistance' she had them. Before coming over to Bill's she stitched up her wounds and tended to them with maternal care. She slipped into the car; her muscles tensed a moment in pain but subsided with little notice. She turned to Vernita with a coy expression, brows furrowed in curiosity. "Since when do we go out?" She asked casually trying to mask her evident pleasure at the idea.
Vernita grinned at Beatrix, "Since now Bea.....," she looked the woman over, "You look like shit....you'll have to fill me in." She turned back towards the road and pulled out of the driveway. Vernita's right hand was bandaged up, and she gingerly worked it around the steering wheel. "I found this great place....your gunna love it....and if you don't, well, at least pretend you do." She flashed Beatrix another grin, and got onto the highway.
It didn't take long for them to cross the border back to the United States. A little further driving and they entered the outskirts of San Diego. Vernita seemed to know exactly where she was going and soon they pulled in front of a quant looking diner. A sign above read, "Flippin' Jack's Burgers." A small crowd of people was inside, most of them seemed content with their own conversations and took little notice of the two women entering. The decor was down home but clean. A somewhat 1950's yuppie flavor dominated. Pink Christmas lights were strung around, intermingled with framed newspaper articles and old concert posters. A middle aged man looked up from behind the diner bar. "Sit wherever you want ladies," he said in friendly voice.
Once Beatrix and Vernita had settled in a booth, the man handed them menus and told them to take their time. Vernita leaned forward, "At first, I had to try this place because the name was so damn funny....but I found out that I actually really liked it....," she scrutinized her menu, "You have to try the shakes Bea...holy shit, they are the best I've ever had.....and," she looked around fondly, "...there's just something about it ya know...it reminds me of when I was a kid with my family and we'd all go out for breakfast on Sunday mornings.....real homey ya know." She snorted, going back to her menu, "Well, those days are long gone.....but....I guess it's nice to pretend now and then. That, and Jesus....I get so tired of sitting in smoky dingy bars.....nice to go to a place where I don't feel like some asshole is going to grab my ass when I try and stand up."
The tall blonde sitting across from the darker skinned woman wasn't paying attention. Blue hues reflected the vibrant arrays of lights and various nick-knacks assorted on the wall. Unlike her companion Beatrix never attended church so on Sundays she never had the childhood pleasure of eating brunch at these type of places. The best place she ever went to for brunch was a cocktail hour at a local pub down the road which she snuck into at the age of twelve. Other then that she was deprived. Blue hues stopped to watch a family across the way in the other booth. Husband, wife, and two children. The mother was busy with the toddler and the father was bouncing the older son on his knee. It was picture perfect. She blinked as her mind snapped back to reality. Dammit.
Vernita glanced across the table at her blonde counterpart her demeanor suddenly serious, "What happened?" Vernita caught Beatrix's look around the diner. It hadn't really occurred to her that maybe Beatrix couldn't really relate to the whole..."wholesome family" thing. She instantly felt a little bad about bringing her here...maybe they should have gone to a bar. It was always a harsh reality for women like themselves, to know that they would most likely never have such a life. Of course....Vernita still held out some hope.
Bea casually leaned forward in her seat and arms folded on the table, her neck craned in Vernita's direction. She went into minor detail about her assignment to take down the sadomasochistic bastard and how much 'fun' she had in doing so. She didn't give the full dose of the story due to the fact that someone could pass by and over hear but the corny music in the background drained out a good portion. "O-Ren set me up," she finished in a bitter blunt tone. Beatrix was now sitting back in her chair, shoulders hunched over to gain more comfort. Her facade was hard and lost all childhood innocence. "I'm sure as hell she knew how fucked up that bastard was and failed to inform me of those crucial details."
Vernita watched intently as Beatrix told the story of her assignment. By the end Vernita's jaw had dropped a little. "Holy....fuck...." Good thing Vernita hadn't heard the "director's cut" of the whole thing. "That's just...." she shook her head in disbelief.. "...wow...." She looked up, as the man (who appeared to be the only employee there) who had taken their orders, slid their plates on the table. Vernita stared down at her burger and fries, Beatrix's story fresh in her mind. She picked at her fries, until she felt like eating more. Like Beatrix, some things....granted, a very few, still managed to gross her out. Elle of course was the exception. She leaned forward, "You don't think O-Ren set you up on purpose? I mean....that doesn't seem like her style....I thought you two were close anyways." She reached for her milkshake, "Maybe she just....forgot to fill you in......" Vernita knew how not likely that sounded, and she fell silent.
Beatrix eyed her food platter. She had ordered a cheese burger with fries and a vanillia malt. She could use some wholesome comfort food. She wasn't going to admit that she threw up in the hotel room before departing. There was only so much of a gross thing that one could take and it did help ease her stomach afterwards. Only reason she was now able to eat.
She reached for the ketchup bottle and sprayed a portion onto a section of her plate. "O-Ren and I.." Long white fingers snatched up a fry dosed in ketchup and she chewed on it contently before continuing. "We're close, in all respects to the word close but I believe when she saw me--" She quickly trailed off. Beatrix waved the half bitten fry in the air to dismiss her run off. "I'm not saying she set me up but she did with every cruel intent forget to tell me those minor details."
Vernita shook her head, "I don't know what the hell her problem is......I mean, don't get me wrong I like her just fine. But sometimes I think she gets a little high on herself...being....Bill's fa-," she stopped suddenly, realizing that that would be a somewhat incorrect statement. "...Well...one of Bill's more respected protégé's." She made a slightly awkward movement as she shoved a few fries in her mouth. "I'm just saying, whatever she felt about you...whenever....she had no fucking right to withhold information. Especially stuff like,...oh this guy is a complete fucking wacko!" She picked up the ketchup bottle, "At least you would have had a much better idea of what to expect." She turned the bottle upside down and a huge mound of ketchup fell onto her plate, covering her entire pile of fries. "Shit!" She cursed loudly. She glanced around at the families nearby, looking momentarily guilty, "...er....shoot...."
Returning her attention to Beatrix, Vernita pointed at the woman, "You need to confront her on that...I'm serous Bea. She shouldn't be getting away with that sort of shit." Vernita had something of a protective material side to her and it often came out in strange ways. "I don't care how much Bill respects her....that's crossing the line."
Beatrix shrugged her shoulders unsure whether to agree or disagree with Vernita's assumption. Yes, O-Ren had crossed the lines in a manner but they all had. "Elle," Bea began coolly. She picked up a spoon and nonchalantly scooped up a portion of the mound of ketchup atop Vernita's fries. "Elle tried to kill me during an assignment if you didn't pick up that bit of gossip." She dumped the ketchup onto the napkin and folded it over. "O-Ren fucking me over isn't all that surprising." That was an understatement. She had been surprised. She knew O-Ren was having her own 'difficulties' seeing Beatrix half naked coming out of Bill's bedroom. But, her actions were more rash than anticipated.
Long white fingers laced around her burger and she took a bite. She savored the flavor, taking in what bizarre contentment food could bring during stressful situations. She swallowed and set the remainder of the burger down. "I sometimes forget that O-Ren although appearing like a fucking Japanese saint, if provoked can turn into the spawn of Satan." A timid smirk graced her worn features. She took up the burger and chewed down a few more bites as she took a moment to think. "If.....I approach O-Ren on the subject it will be a big fucking to-do and Bill will get involved and I do 'not' want that."
Vernita chuckled, picking up her own burger. "Yeah...I can see your point on that Bea." Nobody wanted Bill to get involved in matters if they could help it. Bill always managed to manipulate the situation so that it benefited him...and you wouldn't figure it out until it was way too late. She watched Beatrix as she helped rid her of the ridiculous amount of ketchup. She snorted, "God...you couldn't be more right about O-Ren. I guess sometimes I forget that too...."
Vernita sighed, "I heard about Elle...yeah....well that bitch is crazy as hell." She took a contented bite of her burger, "She's always been like that...I mean...yeah sure she's gotten a little crazier....and I don't know what the hell her deal is with you...but it's really fucked up. At least with O-Ren it usually makes sense...but with Elle....who knows! She could split a toenail and go off the deep end." Vernita made a "coocoo" motion with her finger before going back to her burger.
After a moment of silence, she looked up at Beatrix, "Hey, we're depressing the shit out of each other here...c'mon...there's got to be something good going on we can chat about...." Ok, so it was highly idealistic...but it was worth a try.
Bill and I are in a relationship, Beatrix thought methodically to herself. She smirked behind her burger. Like shit she'd tell Vernita that. Instead Beatrix shook her head as she swallowed down the food in her mouth. "No, not a damn thing."
She leaned forward, lips wrapped around the straw of her malt, and she sipped down a good portion of the tasty treat. Blue eyes stared off past Vernita with a void interior. The family had been watching before were preparing to leave. The mother was wiping chocolate off the toddler's mouth and the father was helping by keeping the child from squirming. Bea tore her gaze back to Vernita. She moistened her lips. "Nothing good happens in our lives. If it does than it was either a trick or it won't last long."
She leaned back, resentment sparking in her eyes but masked over quickly. "Would you ever quit?" Blatant question and out of the blue but it could be a 'happier' topic.
Vernita watched Beatrix with knitted brows. She knew that Beatrix was often a difficult person to understand...she was a very complex individual. Vernita had learned that Beatrix would reveal only as much as she wanted to be known and whatever she was hiding was extremely difficult to get at. It was scary, because it sorta reminded her allot of Bill.
Vernita picked at her plate, "Would I ever quit......?" She repeated slowly. A tingling feeling of fear crept up her spine. Funny, Bill was thousands of miles away and the very topic still caused her to shudder. "Of course I do..." she said quietly, eyes still averted to her near empty plate. She jerked her head towards the family that Beatrix had been watching, whom were now filing out of the diner. "I want that just as much as you Bea.....don't think I don't wonder what it would be like....to have a normal life." She leaned back, "Taking my kids to school, packing their lunches...going to soccer games, having a house in the suburbs....ya know hokey shit like that." She chuckled, "Not having to worry about getting killed every day of my life....." She looked up, her dark eyes locking with Beatrix's blue ones, "So, yeah...of course I would quit," her gaze dropped a little, "...given the right opportunity that is." A soft smile touched her lips, "What about you Bea? Would you trade the life of the violent and dangerous for a mini van and a tire swing in the backyard?"
Beatrix knew Vernita wanted normal. She always seemed the type. Nice Christian woman with her family always attending church and doing family things. Sometimes she even wondered why Vernita went into 'this' type of business. It didn't fit her. But, when Beatrix saw Vernita handle an edged weapon it was a clear reminder. She also knew that like herself Vernita was very loyal to Bill but also very timid which could cause large problems later on.
Hands came to fold on the table, her back and shoulders straight, head leaned forward towards her companion. Her facade was serious and stone set. "Yes." And she would, in a heart beat if given the right incentive. She'd forever deny what she was born to do. A character flaw. Making choices that she knew deep down would never work. Long white fingers intertwined together and downcast her gaze. "But, we're just silly girls with silly dreams."