The next morning continued fairly normally except for the fact it was Nikishi's day to come in late, thus leaving the living room looking as if a fucking tornado had torn through it; or that was what Aiyana thought as she walked inside. It was their usual 'training' day. There were no new assignments, so when the brunette was free she stopped by Bill's to work on her various skills. She was dressed in a casual pair of navy blue sweat pants, matching tank top, and sneakers. Her auburn shaded hair was up in tight a bun, loose strands framed her delicate features. Those dark brows were furrowed as she took notice to the shards of glass on the floor.
"Bill?" She spoke up. The man wasn't in the current area and she felt a ting of worry that someone may have broken in and decided to smash the bar; odd, but a possibility. Her steps brought her to the back of the living room, towards the patio door, and out of the corner of her eye she spotted a black folder. Her head canted to the side curiously as she bent down to pick up the mess.
"Don't fucking touch that folder Aiyana!" A voice hissed from behind the partially open patio door. It was Bill's voice, whip like and deadly in its tone. A pair of cold hard brown eyes peered at her through an open slat about six feet above the ground. "What are you doing here?" The disembodied eyes of Bill spoke in that same deadly tone.
When Aiyana informed him that she was here for their scheduled training session, Bill suddenly came around the other side of the door, and slipped past her with a furiously smooth movement.
He turned around to face her with a typical frown, except this one was even deeper...if that was possible. But, unlike when Bill had...oh so wrongly thought that Beatrix was dead, he didn't appear dishelmed, tired, fucked up, or distraught, instead, now...he'd almost gone the opposite direction. He was wearing a suave looking button up shirt, fancy cowboy boots, slicked back hair, a demeanor of pure self confidence and focused streamlined perfection.
"Well then, let's train," he said softly; looking sharply at the brunette. Stepping over the glass and wreckage of his own destruction as if it wasn't even there, he walked into the middle of the room and picked his Hanzo sword up from off its ornamental stand. "I think you're ready for something a little more deadly," he said quickly, brushing back past her, leading the way out into the backyard and up the steps onto the courtyard area.
Unsheathing the sword, which emitted a high pitched ringing that spoke of the utmost craftsmanship, he set the black devil's face scabbard on the ledge of the low stone hedging on the edge of the courtyard.
Wielding the weapon as if it were a long lost child he'd just found, Bill glanced at Aiyana; whipping the blade around in fast circles "Take a sword from the rack Aiyana, I would recommend either the one with the metal snake handle or the silver and red woven one." All of this still being spoken in a quick distracted tone of voice. "When you have chosen the sword you want, attack me."
Aiyana was taking all of this in very carefully. The way Bill was acting, speaking, and moving was all a little unnerving. With a quizzical look on her face she walked over to the sword rack and took out the silver and red woven sword. She certainly didn't think herself ready to go up against Bill's Hanzo sword. The steal glimmering as the sun glistened off its sleek surface. It was as cool as it was deadly. The two were a perfect match.
The brunette accustomed herself to the feel of the new blade in her hands, her fingers flexing on the handle as she got a good grip. Her eyes slowly leveled to Bill's cold and almost black brown eyes. Something was different about him, something not good, and she couldn't point it out. She wanted to know what had happened in the living room, but she wasn't stupid enough to ask. As unsure as she felt she couldn't go against his word and say she didn't want to train today.
So, she sucked in a breath, and she came at him as instructed with sword poised to strike.
Bill was very aware of his sudden change in treatment towards Aiyana, and he very much didn't give a damn. At this moment, to him, nothing else mattered but acquiring his deserved payment for what had been done to him. He'd slipped easily into this cold emotionless place. This kind of place allowed him to hurt anybody he pleased, no matter how much he cared about them. It was the place of a true sociopath. Every living thing he looked at was now nothing more than a moving target to kill how he pleased; because he could, because he deserved that pleasure.
On top of all this, he was also using most of his mental resources to begin to plan his assassination of Beatrix. It had to be sneaky, it had to be something special, something she deserved. He had to approach it with the utmost charm and then strike at just the right moment. At the same time, it had to be brutal and foolproof; he would allow no room for failure. This plan was beginning to form at a measured paced within his mind.
The sword fighting, the movements, it was all just automatic motion to him. He was growing increasingly irritated with Aiyana; not because she deserved it...he recognized that, but because she just happened to be the living being he was seeing as nothing more than a play toy at the moment.
Raising his own sword, Bill waited only a few seconds before coming at her again with a series of vicious attacks. It was so easy to project his anger and pain towards Beatrix onto this woman...almost too easy. Thus, these attacks were not half hearted or moderate in the slightest. They grew more purposeful and harder for a training sword fighter to defend against.
The shimmering reflections of Bill's Hanzo blade, flashed across his face. He didn't blink in response. "Your own shortcomings are going to be your undoing Aiyana," he said slowly between steady controlled breaths, "A true killer cannot allow for shortcomings." Like having a fucking heart for starters.
With a vicious swing, he came within mere centimeters of slicing off Aiyana's right ear. He flashed a quick smirk, "Not a vital organ, but I think it would mar your lovely appearance," the smirk vanished, "Move faster."
Aiyana sucked in a breath. She had felt the cold metal breathing on her skin, inches away from slicing, and then pulled back. If she wasn't feeling so uneasy, or if she was more of a smart ass she would have made a comment about not wanting to be a Van Gough wanna-be. But besides that was the fact he had even mocked the idea of marring any part of her body. It didn't take a fucking genius to tell Bill wasn't in 'teacher' mode any longer.
She took a step back as Bill took merciless swings at her, which she was just barely able to parry. The sweat was beginning to gleam against her skin due to excretion and pure unease. Even as she dodged swings that came inches from slicing her skin and a few times nicked at the cloth of her clothing. This was becoming too much. Obviously Bill was upset about something and she didn't want to be the punching bag in which to release that frustration upon.
As she was quickly debating whether she wanted to continue, that was when she had let her defense down. The tip of Bill's Hanzo sword slicked against her arm, a trail of crimson reflected in its place. Aiyana sucked in a sharp breath and took quick, long steps away from him. Her eyes were wide. "What the hell is wrong with you?" She demanded. Usually she wouldn't speak up to her boss but the situation called for it. "You know I'm not ready to go up against something like that.."
"You're right," Bill replied. "You aren't ready. Maybe I was wrong about you."
Aiyana remained wide eyed on him. His words slowly beginning to sink in until they had the full effect Bill had initially intended to. Now, if Aiyana knew Bill better or if she was another person, she wouldn't have been taunted by Bill's mockery. Instead his words angered her. Why would he say that when he saw what else she was capable of? Like any woman she hated to be degraded or thought less of. Her brows furrowed and her lips came into a tight line.
The last thing she wanted was for her boss to believe she wasn't capable and she certainly didn't want to disappoint him. This type of thinking was what would get the brunette in trouble. If she had been wise she would have agreed with him and backed out of the training session, but she wasn't.
Her head came up into a regal posture. "No," she began in a steady tone.
"You weren't wrong about me." She steadily took a step forward, the soles of her sneakers crunched against the gravel as she came back onto the patio. Her hands clenched and flexed into a proper position on the hilt of her blade. She then came into a fighting stance; obviously ready to attempt to prove him wrong.
Ah, that was Aiyana's fatal error and Bill knew it. Because, of course, he'd set it up that way. He'd taunted her, and if she'd been wise...if she'd been Beatrix, she would have told him to go fuck himself and walk away. It would have pissed him off sure, but it would have been a far wiser choice than falling for the bait and willingly continuing to go up against him when he was in such a mood.
Bill hid a satisfied smile. It was so easy to anger some people...a little mockery and they were ready to throw themselves on the slab. He knew then, for sure, that this pretty young woman...Aiyana Espona was going to be his sacrificial lamb of the day; the appetizer to Beatrix if one wanted to get strangely metaphorical about it. He didn't feel sorry for Aiyana...for the simple truth was, he didn't feel anything at all.
"I'm very happy to hear that Aiyana," Bill replied in a strangely friendly tone of voice, a charming smile gracing his face.
Regaining his fighting stance, he lowered an intense gaze at her, both hands gripped confidently on the handle of the deadly Hanzo blade in his hands; .knowing he would have this over within a matter of seconds. This was always Bill's favorite moment, the moment right before the kill.
When Aiyana, renewed with her anger at being mocked, came at him, Bill responded with a series of lighting quick movements, the look in his eyes murderous. This type of maneuvering was only achieved after years of training, and/or the combination of excessive talent. It was the type of rapid and extremely deadly technique that was employed by the seasoned samurai fighter when going up against an equally skilled opponent...thus why most samurai sword fights were generally not all that long; somebody generally got killed very quickly.
Aiyana simply didn't stand a chance against this sort of technique. She had been right of course, she wasn't ready to go up against a Hanzo sword, and she sure as hell wasn't ready to get attacked in such a manner. In a few years perhaps, but...unfortunately she wouldn't get a chance to reach that skill level.
Within three seconds, Bill had disarmed the brunette, and deftly knocked her sword out of her hand. The weapon went clanking to the cobblestones a few feet away. When Aiyana stared back at him with shock and a good amount of imploring, Bill simply ignored it. Continuing his strike pattern, he swung through and smoothly sliced her across the torso. If he had been closer or swinging harder, this would most likely could have cut her literally in half. But, as it was, she was now lying on the ground with a gaping mortal wound that would probably take a few hours to bleed her to death. And if that didn't' happen, it's very gaping nature would lead to massive infection within a very short time. Either way, no party, that was for certain.
Happy to have avoided the initial spay of blood, Bill checked his silk shirt with a placid expression. Then, bloody sword in hand, he stepped over to the fallen brunette, standing over her, feet planted on either side of her...degrading her even in her last seconds of life.
He stared down at her placidly, his attention on her anguished face as she stared up at him, mouth working...trying to speak.
He shook his head, putting his forefinger to his lips. It was no use for her trying to speak, and likewise Bill found there was no need to say anything to her. What had been done was done. It was somewhat of a pity, wasting such a pretty talented young woman, but...then again...it wasn't anything he hadn't done before. She needn't take it personally. She'd simply been the wrong person at the wrong place and the wrong time.
Bill jabbed his Hanzo sword into the cobblestones for temporary holding, and then slowly began to roll the sleeves of his shirt up, taking his long sadistic time as Aiyana laid at his feet; deep wound oozing crimson blood onto the cobblestones around her.
Finally, inspecting his forearms, and satisfied with the distance his shirt sleeves were now at, he pulled his Hanzo sword out of the ground and held it upside down, in the universal stabbing position.
Aiyana, who was at least aware enough to recognize what was about to happen, widened her eyes, once again trying to speak...only a sick garble escaped her lips.
With an expression of complete neutrality, Bill positioned the tip of the blade right over her throat. Jabbing through her chest or head was simply too messy and actually took some serious force to do; he wasn't in the mood for that.
His eyes flicked to her face once more. She should be thankful; he was giving her the gift of a swift death in the face of a long agonizing one.
Without even a second of hesitation, Bill then jabbed the sword right through her throat; the end of the blade jabbing into the ground behind her. As he had expertly guessed, his hands and forearms received a dousing shower of blood in response. Aiyana made one last garbling noise and that was it. He quickly yanked the blade out and stepped away.
He turned his back on the now quite dead Aiyana without a blink of an eye and set his Hanzo sword on the stone ledge next to the scabbard. It would require a good cleaning before being returned to its dormant state, but no matter...he'd done that deed countless times.
Strolling across the backyard, Bill entered the house through one of the partially open patio doors, careful not to touch the handle with his hands.
As he entered the living room, Nikishi looked up. She'd shown up a few minutes earlier and was now busy at work on cleaning up the shattered remains of the bar Bill had destroyed last night. The Japanese woman stood up straight, her dark eyes meeting Bill's, and then dropped to his crimson covered forearms and hands.
"A tragedy," he spoke smoothly, "Miss Espona had an accident while training. Her body is out on the courtyard."
Nikishi didn't say anything; she just stared at Bill for a moment longer and then dropped her eyes back to the task she was currently working on.
Bill turned away calmly and headed down the hallway to clean up. "We shall have breakfast soon, yes?" His voice called up from down the hallway.
"Yes Bill," Nikishi replied softly, scooping up a large pile of glass.
Within the hour Nikishi had more or less made the bar presentable or at least safe to walk around. Once through she had set out a bowl of granola and fresh assorted fruit which Bill was eating over an edition of the Times; appearing rather sublime at that moment. She didn't say a word and went out to the courtyard.
Soon enough the front door could be heard opening and closing, followed by the shuffling of boots and appearance of Budd. He was wearing that pair of blue jeans that he almost always wore, light blue button up shirt with a white t-shit underneath, black boots, and that hat. Upon entering the dining room, which was right next to the bar, he puckered his lips and his brows furrowed. He could have sworn there had been more liquor on those shelves the other day, that, and a glass cabinet.
He took a step further into the room and settled his gaze on Bill…who looked...fucking…normal. Normal being for Bill casually placid with an extra coating of sadism; and that coat today was glistening. Budd hadn't seen Bill this normal in ages and it wasn't even his typical type of normal. It was a normalcy that was eerie.
"Hey Bill," he awkwardly greeted. "What…uh…happened to the bar?" He made a motion over his shoulder, his expression perplexed.
"I destroyed it," Bill replied in that eerily calm tone, between sips of hot tea, which he picked up with a perfectly scrubbed hand. When all he received was silence from his brother in response to this, he looked up from his paper. "I felt inclined," he raised a brow,"...to retaliate."
Of course, he was just being coy with Budd, and Budd of anybody would know that. Bill slowly set down his paper. He didn't want to have to utter the words required to inform his brother of what had happened...but he knew he had to. He had to remain calm throughout this...which obviously was not an easy task.
"Beatrix," he began, pushing his tea cup away with a frown, "Is not dead." He fixed his younger sibling with a hard look, "Dantae and Helen found her, while trying to track down her killers of course, living in El Paso Texas." He let that sink in, a bitter smirk crossing his face, "I guess she decided to run home, so to speak."
He leaned back, folding up the Times into well measured quarters, "She's getting married at the end of the month, to some young jerkoff type. And, as it turns out," his look darkened even further, "...she's pregnant." He tossed the paper aside; a look of real felt pain seeping through that mask of neutrality he'd tried so hard to put on.
Regarding Budd, he leaned forward across the table, "She fucked me over Budd, worse than any woman ever could even have fathomed," his voice had dropped to a deadly but emotional whisper, "I can't even begin to describe to you how much," he paused, "...this hurts. But, I can tell you, I will do my damndest to make sure she gets a pretty good idea before I end her betraying life."
He leaned back, grimacing with obvious emotional disarray. "Oh, and Aiyana's dead, I killed her this morning," he added flippantly.
Budd stood there flabbergasted. He didn't speak, but with tightly knit together brows and his mouth in a tight line, he marched pasted Bill, through the patio doors, and out onto the courtyard. Nikishi was outside with the hose spraying away the deep crimson that stained the cobblestones. Off to the side covering a body was a pale blue sheet seeping with blood. "Fucking Christ," he swore loudly; whipping off his cowboy hat in the process.
He had to think before approaching Bill. He had to put two and two together. So, Aiyana was dead, that was obvious. Poor girl and Budd was getting too like her, and not in that perverted sense either. Aiyana was dead…but…Beatrix was alive. What the fuck? He began to move the cowboy hat back and forth against his chest in a fanning motion. Budd decided quickly that he would approach Bill about the woman that was dead later, and let his concern waver on the woman that was supposed to be dead.
Finally he came back inside to find Bill cleaning off his breakfast from the table. Budd was still clutching to his hat, moving back and forth subtly, and his complexion was far from perky. "I'm tryin' real hard to get all-a this, Bill," he began slowly, slipping in to a chair at the bar. "…Bea is not dead, she never was dead. She left you, moved to El Paso Texas, is gettin' hitched and got'er self knocked up."
He raked a hand through his brown wavy locks. "Damn, that's…that's fucked up." He glanced over to his brother. "I mean you two were good, right? No fights 'fore she left, arguments, a bad fuck?"
Bill laughed, although it was a short and bitter laugh, "Budd," he smirked, pausing his clean up task, "...to not get too detailed with you, Beatrix and I never had a bad fuck."
Finishing up, he then sat down on the stool next to his brother. He spent a few seconds just staring down at the marble countertop, "As to the rest...," he paused, "...arguing was like morning coffee for us, it was as much foreplay as it was natural...that wouldn't have caused her to run off. She loved arguing with me just as I much as I loved arguing with her. We thrived on that..." He shook his head, fingers clasping onto the edge of the counter, "But...no recent big fights no...in fact, everything was wonderful before she left..." His eyes glazed over with fond memories, "It couldn't have been better...it was..." he trailed off; a cold frown quickly replacing the warm look.
No, he wasn't going to go back to sentimentalizing now. It was far, far too late for that. He'd been through that stage. He was done thinking fondly of Beatrix, for the time being. Right now, what she had done to him far outweighed what she had meant to him. While, in essence the two were tied directly together.
Bill glared death into the countertop, "I don't know what the fuck happened Budd, but I can perhaps take a guess. She lied to me all along...she has always been a wonderfully amazing liar. She led me on...by my obvious deep affection for her, not to mention my...heh," another smirk, "...well either way, she led me on. Perhaps she did this unconsciously...I don't know. But she outwitted me; outplayed me...she played the blonde sex card on me." He shook his head again at his own typical folly, "I'm must be getting weak in my old age Budd. I would never have fallen for such shit when I was younger." That was a highly debatable comment.
"So," he continued on bitterly, "...she couldn't handle just telling me the truth, which isn't in the slightest bit surprising...took advantage of a dangerous assignment situation and took off for Texas. She ran away from the CPA...she ran away from her white trash home...running is in her nature. She found some young guy in El Paso, some guy about the furthest from myself, because...apparently I was not what she wanted, and gets herself knocked up...right away. And finally," he spat, "...always one to secretly want her little white picket fence, she and this asshole decide to get married to live happily ever after."
Which, Bill was pretty fucking sure...they were not going to do.
Even though he could say it, Bill was still trying to convince himself to believe it. God, but if she had lied...she'd lied even beyond his own perception of her capabilities. He had so fully believed her, that she'd loved him, that she'd cared for him. They were so alike, almost...some fucked up soul mates really. She had been the woman to end all women for Bill. She had been it, 'the one', his muse, his woman. It was so difficult to grasp what she had done...even after getting so angry.
"She never loved me Budd," Bill decided in a softer voice, "And no matter how much she hurt me, and no matter how badly I'm going to make her suffer...I'll always love her." He turned on his brother, a look of hurt and anger on his face, "And THAT'S what pisses me off the most!" He balled up a fist, "No matter what she did to me...I'll still love her!" An eerie look returned to him, "When she decided to leave me, I still loved her, when she was fucking that jerk, I still loved her...and when I kill her, Jesus Christ...I'll still love her..."
Bill had learned at a very young age that life wasn't fair. He'd learned to play the unfair game with expertise. Yet, in the end, fair was still a hard concept to grasp.
He bent his head towards the countertop, a hand propping it up. He hadn't wanted to confide in Budd, he hated doing this. And, after a day of complete fury it was nauseating to momentarily fall back into despair. But, he knew it would only be a passing moment. He could already feel that cold sadistic chill creeping up again and was ready to welcome it with open arms.
"She deserves to die Budd," he murmured almost inaudibly.
"We all deserve to die," Budd corrected his brother gently. His elbows were propped up on the counter, hands clasped together in front of him, and his head downcast. "Shit, we've sinned enough to go way beyond hell. But," he gave off an uneasy chuckle. "That don't justify much." He settled down, leaning his chin on his clasped set of hands. His gaze was distant.
In some twisted way it was comforting to know Bill was confiding in him. He knew it was gonna bite him in the ass soon, but for now he wanted to act as some means of support. "I 'ave trouble believin' that she lied 'bout loving you. You could see it not just in her actions but her eyes. She loved ya, Bill. I don't think she woulda lead all as us on like that just too run off. It didn't gain 'er much because she coulda just as easily run off without fucking with you."
He glanced over to Bill, obvious sympathy glowing in his eyes. He paused to collect his thoughts. "I dunno, Bill. If she did leave you cause she was fucking than that's…Well…I thought she had better morals than that. Not too mention common sense." He puckered his lips. "She broke your heart and I was pissed enough 'bout that when she was 'dead' but now that she's alive and well…that gets me even more. But," a single digit extended and he placed it against his lips thoughtfully.
"She deserves to pay for what she did and I'm not sayin' I'm on her side…Hell, I was never much on the bitch's side. I just went along with it cause you were happy. Now that you ain't happy…" He fixed Bill with a serious furrowing of his brows. "I'm not…right…'bout killing 'er….again…cause shit, look what happened to you when you thought she was dead…Is killin' 'er yourself gonna make it…better?"
Bill frowned, casting an icy sidelong glance at his brother, "That's not your choice to make Budd, it's mine. And I say, yes...it is going to make it better, because," he turned to face him, "...knowing that she is still alive, with some other man...that," he emphasized with a finger, "...is a far worse feeling than knowing she's dead." Bill had always been the extremely jealous type. This reaction was hardly all that surprising. "She had died to me, and now it is best I put her back there. I've mourned her death, but I cannot handle being made a fucking fool and letting her simply get away with it." His look became colder, "No, this must end. I will not continue to live knowing she's alive and willingly not with me."
To be a woman on Bill's side was quite something...to be a woman at odds with him, was hell, and Beatrix was Bill's ultimate woman. She, in his mind, had to face the ultimate fate of betraying him.
"And yes," Bill continued, "Perhaps we all do deserve to die, and when that time comes...I will willingly walk towards it. But, for the moment, I am alive and Beatrix soon will not be. There are those who kill before they are killed and those who simply get killed. It's survival of the fittest Budd...survival of the most cruel, cunning, and detached bastard. I have always been the fittest and until somebody else becomes more so, than I will remain." Bill was quickly working back up to his sociopath mode, "I realize my mistake now, and I will not make it again. I will always love that woman...yes...but that does not mean I owe her any leniency or mercy...for...she gave me none."
He slid off the stool, looking harsh, "Maybe she loved me, maybe she didn't...it's an irrelevant point now. What's important now is setting up this kill. Everything must be perfect and you Budd," he pointed at the younger man again, "…will be a part of it if you want to be or not."