"Well, the tables are turned now," states Angela. "Does that make it all better? Will this take those scars away?"
"Quiet," hisses the younger lady, curling her fingers in the prisoner's honey-brown-dyed hair and yanking her head back. "I call it justice. For all those whose lives you destroyed. For all the torments I endured in that house of horrors. Do you remember?"
"Yes, I do. But the person who did that can't hurt you any longer," Angel responds calmly.
"That's right, because now I'm in control."
"No," Angel interrupts. "Because I'm not Baby."
"The hell you ain't! I don't believe that amnesia split-personality bullshit, bitch."
Angela merely shrugged.
"What you did to me was bad enough, but do you know the whole of what your brothers did? Do you," her lips trembled at the memory. "Beaten, starved, cut up and chained like a dog. But that wasn't the worst of it..."
"Jessica--," Angela began.
"Otis raped me first," she continued, tears welling and falling down her face, which she wiped furiously. She promised herself she wouldn't break down in front of her surviving tormentor. "The second time he forced me, Rufus watched then had his turn. There for weeks afterwards I thought they'd ruptured something inside me, I could barely walk straight. They'd drag me upstairs, where you'd play with me like a human Barbie doll or smack me around if I didn't answer you quick enough. They'd drag me downstairs to rape me or put objects up in me. Sometimes I'd get a cupful of water or some bread or rancid meat to eat." She was sobbing by now, pulling the older woman's hair with every other syllable but she didn't cry out. Just listened to the horror-riven tirade as it grew worse.
"You...fucking...bitch...," she wept. Wiping her eyes again she began backhanding Angela to illustrate her points. "I misscarried a baby down in one of the cages I'd been stuffed in. The other inhabitant was barely aware of anything but shrank back from the shrivelled little thing that my body expelled. Probably because of the abuse I'd gone through. Maybe partly because of how young I was." Angel felt her nose break with an explosion of hot pain through her face, her eyes seeing nothing for several moments.
"I can't have children because of you and your kin! You robbed me off my childhood, and robbed me of my future," she screamed. "I lost three other children! I was one of the few Otis fucked on a regular basis and kept alive. I think he was curious, too. I carried one almost full-term, but you had moved on to other victims by that point and paid me no more mind. That baby was Otis's because even though it was a shrunken, malformed little thing it looked like that bleached-out snake. Still I would've loved it. I hoped that maybe his morbid curiosity would allow me to live, and keep it, but his temper prevented that when I displeased him yet again. I'd never been beaten so hard in my life."
Angela's face was throbbing with pain and bleeding, but she looked up at her captor with something that Baby had never displayed in Jessica's long, horrible stay at the Firefly homestead: pity. Pity and sorrow. Slowly the traumatized girl lowered her fist, mouth open in shock. A weight had lifted off her somewhat, having gotten to spew what she felt at the object of her hatred, but her need for revenge was still there, along with self-consciousness. She quickly left to compose herself and to leave Angel to ponder her fate.
"Fuck," cursed Angela as she tried working her wrists free of her bonds and only succeeded in rubbing them raw. What a way to go, she thought ironically. Totally taken by surprise by one of Baby's victims just like she used to ambush unsuspecting innocents. She fervently hoped Freddy was unharmed, and then began worrying about her daughter. There would be only kindly Inez to protect her if something had happened to Freddy. ..And there was still the matter of her employer's sudden death and contending with her new rival, his brother Pietro. Baby swelled inside, fighting to break free and wreak havoc and strike out blindly--but Angela pushed her back down. Not yet, she thought. Not yet.
God, her face ached, but she didn't let on. She'd learned to deal with pain long ago, otherwise she would've just given up many times. She had Otis to thank for that. Presently a fly tried to land on her battered face, drawn by the enticing smell of blood and torn flesh. Angela shook her head to rid herself of the pest, but after a minute or so it was back.
This was really starting to get on her nerves. My kingdom for a fly swatter.
Jessica couldn't keep the memories from bubbling up and overflowing, like a dam bursting after a heavy rain. They washed over her and left her wrung-out, re-living the horrific moments. Baby filmed her while Otis stripped her of her tattered clothes, and she went over the poor girl's good and bad points like she was a prime racehorse. The young woman couldn't make the images cease, she'd opened up her ravaged psyche. Collapsing on the floor of the old storehouse's office she curled up into a little ball.
"All right, hoochie-koo," the awful psychotic 'artist' was telling her. "You know the routine. Get your shit on the bed, or I'll make you and you won't like it."
Shaking all over, sick and sore from the mistreatment and her first miscarriage she crawls on the filthy bed with the bloodstained sheets. "Whatcha gonna do, Otis? I wanna hear her scream," and Baby giggled her childish laugh.
"Shut up Baby, I'm workin," he replies, nevertheless grinning for the camera. He shucks off his flannel shirt and t-shirt and joins the teenaged girl on the bed. She was so weak and beaten down by now that he doesn't bother to restrain her, simply unzipping his pants so he can get down to business. Dutifully she spreads her legs, not wishing to hear his yelling or feel his fists. "Well, this one's a quick learner," he chuckles, slapping her face almost gently. "But that's not what I want this time, bitch. I want you to suck it. Go on." At her confused and disgusted look he growls, "Dammit don't make me tell you again, Homecoming Queen! You can't be all that innocent, ya slut. Pretend it's a nice ice cream cone yer daddy bought ya on a hot summer's day, and SUCK ME OFF!"
"No," she whimpers on the floor, arms wrapped around herself. Retching she empties her stomach on the tiles, glad that Baby wasn't here to witness it. She was beginning to think only death would finally bring her peace, but before she went she wanted the satisfaction of returning the favor to the last Firefly.
Angela dozed, having tired herself out trying to wriggle free of her bonds or think of something brilliant to get herself out of this situation. She dreamt of her brothers, of her mother and father and of happier times. Well, happier for her if not for her victims.
Listening to 'More than a Feeling' by Boston. Eating homemade apple pie and laughing at Tiny getting ice cream all over his horribly scarred face. Of RJ and her butchering prime beef for the table and for sale and comparing the cattle to human beings and their differences. Falling asleep with her head in Mother's lap as she crooned with her sweet, matronly voice and tender hands. Of the despair she felt when as Baby she realized she was all alone and friendless in the cruel world, a world actually crueller than any of the Fireflys ever thought about being.
Ellen was what kept it together, in spite of Baby's contempt she had a strength of her own. Her big pretty eyes flew open as someone entered the room.
"Nice face," quipped Dave.
Jessica entered right after that, her eyes red-rimmed but dry. "I got the stuff," he tells her, holding out a package. Green eyes lit up at that, grabbing it and tearing open the paper.
"Good. So me doing the dirty work was worth it, just to see the look on her ugly face," she gloats, looking through the contents of the box. "You being in the FBI was worthwile, indeedy-do. Ok, cunt," she directed at Angela. "Got some things for ya to look at."
"Bite me," Angela snarls.
"Your dearly departed ma, for instance," Jessica goes on, putting the photos in her face. "Oh, and that big lug Rufus Jr, too. Aw, is that is chest that looks like hamburger meat?"
"You bitch. You're not better than Baby was," spat Angela.