INHERENT SUPERIORITY
Chapter VI: Miscalculation
…
The stage is set. The actors have taken their places. And like two freight trains with broken brakes accelerating head-on towards each other, your only options are to watch in horror or look away.
…
The gun was a small revolver, bought from a street dealer with money she'd withdrawn using the woman's credit card. Small, concealable, powerful enough to get the job done. A Smith-Wesson Bodyguard .38 special or something, the punk had said, a gun too hot to be kept around, perfect for someone like her for whom the stakes were all or nothing. A few spare bullets, just to be sure.
She had little time, and she knew that. Unfortunately, her enemy had grown overconfident, and Charlie had left his address up for all to see.
It would be several long days of driving with a very short time window to enact her plan, but she knew she could do it, knew her plan would result in apotheosis, and now she saw what she had been missing all these years.
Charlie had to gain hope and have it taken away for her to crush him down completely and begin her ascent to godhood.
It was not a question as to whether she would succeed, not anymore. Now all she considered was what she would do afterwards, when her will was physical law.
Crucifying Charlie Brown in Times Square would be a good start.
…
Linus Van Pelt had just had what he felt was a successful job interview for a management position at Waynetech, and was finally letting out the breath he'd been holding for quite a while. He was elated to have finally got his foot in the door with the company and that the interviewer had expressed interest in his background, but all the same he was officially out of fucks to give. His plans for the evening involved a beer and watching the news until sleep took him.
"…Julius Dithers' lawsuit against former employee Dagwood Bumstead regarding lottery winnings was thrown out of court today, with Judge Bullworth calling it 'the most flagrant attempt at financial extortion I've seen'. Dithers was taken into custody after allegedly attempting to assault Bullworth during the proceedings-"
His cellphone chimed. He glanced. A number he didn't recognize, and he sighed as he realized what was going on- his parents were trying to contact him again using someone else's phone. Probably for money. He blocked the number.
"-in related news, the 'Grumbel's Giveback' campaign by the now out-of-business former retail giant has gained overwhelmingly negative attention. Former employees of Grumbel's were contacted with requests to contribute thousands of dollars towards a potential revival of the retail brand, with critically acclaimed horror novelist Valerie Costello openly denouncing the campaign as 'naked greed by executives'. Valerie's husband, Cooper Costello and manager of an Ikea store, was quoted as saying 'Ha ha, no.' In other news…"
Again, his phone rang. Another number he didn't recognize. The previous one didn't leave a message, and now he knew for certain who was on the other end. He had hoped that after getting out of the army and denouncing his family he could move on without them. He blocked the caller.
"…fiery invective from noted teenage blogger Calvin Halgins regarding a tabloid reporter's questions about the Planeteers' alleged sexual activities today after the group's humanitarian efforts in Africa with providing drinking water. Celebrity Gossip has informed this station that the reporter is no longer in their employ and have issued an apology for their actions. The full fifteen-minute video of Calvin's response has reached over thirty million views…"
Ah, that had been worth watching. The blonde-haired lunatic had responded to some sleazebag's question about whether or not the Planeteers had orgies with the kind of lambasting that would have had impressed the most jaded Drill Sergeant. What was really amazing was that the reporter it was aimed at didn't combust on the spot…
The phone chimed again, and Linus felt his patience waning. He blocked it again.
"…shocking tragedy in Sparkyville last night as a grocery worker identified as Lucy Van Pelt murdered a coworker and customer, witnesses say that Lucy used a bottle of wine to kill-"
Oh no.
Oh no.
His phone rang again, and he picked it up this time, all too aware of who was calling and why.
"Hello?" he said, voice shaking.
"Linus," his father's voice said, sounding like he'd aged three decades… "it's your sister."
"I saw." He responded, too shocked and horrified to say anything else.
…
Everyone who knew Lucy Van Pelt and saw the news understood the gravity of the situation.
Schroeder Grastiger did not care he was currently in Japan, having received overwhelming applause for his performance- he requested an immediate security escort whenever he was forced to leave the hotel, not trusting Lucy's insanity to be limited to one continent.
Peppermint and Marcy Patty heard the news, and went out to buy a gun apiece.
Perry "Pigpen" Wiggins sighed, and made sure the shotgun he bought was loaded.
Everyone who saw the news and knew Lucy was certain of one thing- it would not stop with two deaths. Lucy would not go into hiding. She was a loose cannon, uncaring of (or worse, reveling in) the damage she caused with her actions, a bloated ego with bubble-thin skin and a bloodlust that could never be sated.
Everyone knew this was bad news… except Charlie and Heather, whose cellphones were turned off and were preoccupied with more pleasant matters.
…
Heather Wold eventually woke up around 9:30 A.M., sore in all the best ways.
Her birthday celebration- the public part, at least- had involved dinner at a nice Italian restaurant with both hers and Charlie's family, and a good time was had by all.
Then they returned to their apartment, and their private celebration involved her making requests of Charlie to do… things to her that from anyone else would have been obscene and unforgivable violations.
Eventually, mutually depravity and filthy language gave way to cuddling and kissing, then exhaustion and slumber.
She glanced over at Charlie, still sound asleep from exhaustion, and she felt a sense of pride. He might have been the more forward one during the beginning, but the look on his face when she took control was one she'd cherish forever.
Not that she minded when he was in control in the slightest…
She gingerly got out of bed, grabbing a now empty can of whipped cream from the bedstand to discard. Charlie had refused to get dessert at the restaurant, saying he'd have something at home. It was only when he had stood over her naked form with the can in hand, licking his lips and eyes wild with lust, that she understood the wonderful torture she was about to endure.
She had screamed for him. Begged him to continue, and howled his name when he did. And when he was done with that particular act, he had pulled her close even as she struggled to catch her breath and see straight again, and whispered one word into her ear that set her off again:
"Yummy."
That had led to her pouncing on him with an animalistic need, and while what happened next clearly caught him off guard, he was more than eager to participate in her own ideas of fun…
She would need a shower before she went jogging. Probably a cold one, if she was going to get any exercise done outside of bed today…
…
Charlie Brown woke up, and was relieved to find he could still feel his legs. Normally that wasn't his first concern in the morning, but after the way Heather had growled "my turn" and taken control of the night, he was pleasantly surprised to find everything below his waist was still in working order, if a bit bruised.
He needed to start jogging with Heather… tomorrow. Today, certain parts required rest. Perhaps ice…
Last night had been incredible. Yes, he'd probably get a noise complaint, but it was worth it.
He inhaled, exhaled. Ever since Heather moved into his life, he'd felt better. The pain of his childhood was still there, but it felt further away.
He had just gotten out of bed when Heather emerged from the bathroom, still soaking wet and not bothering to cover herself with a tower.
The tower lovers assessed each other with lustful grins before she stepped forward for a deep kiss, and for a moment he thought about throwing her on the bed and taking her again…
…then they broke apart and he saw her smiling face. "…good morning."
"Good morning." He said, drinking in the sight of her as she walked over to the dresser, deliberately shaking her backside at him- oh God, this woman would be the end of him- as she walked. "Sleep well?"
"Oh yes." She said, as she dressed up for jogging. "You're a depraved animal, you know that?" she teased playfully.
He grinned unashamedly. "And you love me for it."
"I need to go for a run," she explained as she finished tying her shoes. "or I'm going to be stiff all day."
Charlie avoided making the obvious crass joke about how she would live him in such a predicament. "Okay. I need to talk to my agent about some things and work on my next book. When you get back, let's talk about the vacation my parents suggested."
"Sounds good." She said, stretching to warm up, then she sauntered over to peck him on the lips. "Love you."
He squeezed her rump as she turned, and she giggled. "Love you too."
Then, as she left, there was nothing to distract him from the daily grind. Coffee. Working on his book- When Forgiveness Fails- an non-fiction piece on how tolerating bullying and putting the onus of reconciliation on the victim only exacerbated the problem. He eventually remembered his agent would be calling soon, and went to turn on his cell phone.
As it booted up, he noted ten missed calls from Linus. Odd.
Not bothering to listen to voicemail, he called Linus directly. He picked up after the second ring.
"Where have you been!?" he demanded, sounding panicked. "I tried calling you over and over, but I kept getting your voicemail-"
"Linus, whoa, whoa, what's wrong?" Concern hit him then- Linus rarely panicked nowadays, and when he did it was something catastrophic.
Then Linus said nine words that made Charlie's guts tangle into a knot…
"Lucy killed two people and went on the run."
…
Over ten hours of driving, pounding energy drinks, breath catching every time she saw a cop car, and yet here she was- just outside of the apartment complex Charlie Brown and his whore called home.
Providence had brought her to this place, of that she was certain. Finally, after so many tribulations, she would bring him to a lower point than ever before, and in turn the cosmic balance would elevate her to godhood.
She forced herself to temper zeal with reason- doubtless the Blockhead was prepared for her approach, and if she was wounded mortally before her ascension, it would all be for nothing. Parked alongside the curb, she forced her weary mind to calculate the best method of infiltration- or failing that, luring him out…
…and then a red-haired woman caught her eye, jogging towards her car from the other end of the block.
No way. Providence was kind, but surely it wouldn't just… hand the solution to her, would it?
She double checked her phone, pulling up multiple photos taken of the girl, and her breath caught in her throat as she had a revelation.
This wasn't just the whore who sided with Charlie.
This was the same red-haired girl he'd pined for all those years in childhood, and she was running straight at her, unaware of her holy mission.
She had hoped that she would have a chance to put a bullet through Charlie's heart, she mused as she opened her car door, revolver in hand.
She just didn't think it would be metaphorical.
…
There was something off about the woman getting out of her car, and Heather's sixth sense picked up on it immediately, bringing her to a halt. The way she staggered out of the door and began waddling towards her made her step backward, the manic look on her face looked like something out of a horror film.
Then she raised a gun at her and Heather realized she needed to be running away several minutes ago.
BLAM
She stumbled as the first shot was fired, but kept running. She didn't hit me, she realized as she ran to put a tree behind her and her attacker. She didn't hit me.
Yet.
"GET BACK HERE YOU WHORE AND TAKE YOUR HOLY JUDGEMENT (BLAM) FOR I AM THE WISDOM GODDESS OF THE NEW AGE (BLAM) AND IN MY NAME I CAST YOU AND THE BLOCKHEAD DOWN INTO THE ABYSS (BLAM)-"
Whoever she was, she was fucking crazy.
She kept running.
…
Charlie was trying to process the information given to him when the first gunshot rang out, and immediately he understood what was going on-
Lucy was not on her way, not anymore- she was there. And she was trying to kill someone.
Heather was outside. Another shot fired
He ran, Linus' pleas as to what was going on fading behind him as he ran out the door, barefoot down the steps, as a third shot cracked through the air like a thunderbolt. He watched as Heather ran for her life, several hundred feet away, ducking behind trees.
Behind her a pudgy black-haired woman waddled after her, screeching incoherently.
…
Three rounds left. The cowardly bitch was running, and Lucy was not built for speed.
Her shots went wide or hit trees or parked cars, and in the back of her mind she knew the window for her ascension was starting to close.
If someone with a gun intervened, or her quarry managed to get somewhere safe, that was it. Game Over. The Ballad of Lucy Van Pelt, new goddess of wisdom, would end in 'could-haves' and 'might-haves' of a kingdom ruled by her glorious sagacity.
A fourth shot made Heather abandon her hiding space behind a car, and it struck Lucy that maybe she should aim down the sights…
…
BLAM
Something white-hot grazed her left shoulder, making Heather scream and misstep. Her right foot came down to impact a loose pavement stone toe-first, twisting her ankle as she fell.
She tried to stand, and agony shot through her right leg as she fell again.
"Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me." Chanted the woman as she advanced, and Heather looked behind her to see the woman, still clad in some grocery worker's outfit, wearing a demonic girl as she walked forward. "Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me."
She tried to crawl, only to have the breath driven from her lungs as the obese woman stomped down on her back, then grabbed her shoulder to roll her on her back, leveling a revolver at her head.
"Me. Me. Me. Me." The woman was drooling, face plastered in a psychotic grin.
This was it. She was going to die.
Her mind's eye showed her Charlie in bed, reaching out to her. She closed her eyes and reached out back…
…
This was her moment of triumph.
The whore had fallen, she had one bullet left, and now she advanced, speaking her holy verses of wisdom as she did, and she could feel the very fabric of reality slow to watch her ascension as she continued to speak the words that would form her new bible- THE BIBLE- for a new generation that would exist to praise her immaculate wisdom.
The whore looked up at her in terror as she flipped her over and leveled her divine instrument of judgement at her forehead, and, tears in her eyes, shut them tight like a coward, as if that could somehow shield her from holy retribution.
She then heard the most delightful sound in the distance, turning to see Charlie screaming and running towards them, desperate to save his whore…
She smiled at him, as she always had after condemning him, watching him get pummeled, or yanking away a football, then turned back to her prey, still chanting her holy wisdom.
Lucy squeezed the trigger to destroy the woman Charlie loved more than life itself.
…
Click
…
No.
Click
No.
Click Click
This was… this was not happening.
Click
She swung the cylinder out as Heather opened one eye cautiously, and her heart and stomach did acrobatics as she stared.
There were five chambers. Five shots. The sixth and final shot that was to be her means of ascension wasn't a dud or empty, it simply didn't exist. It was an essential part to her divine plan that simply was never there, and Lucy found this to be a terrible, terrible portent of things to come.
With a shaking hand she shook the spent shells out of their chambers, hand pawing in her pocket for spare bullets. She looked to the side to see how much time she had before Charlie was on her.
"GET AWAY FROM HER YOU FUCKING BITCH-"
Then something hit her squarely in the nose like the fist of an angry god.
Stones came out of every direction, smashing into her face, ribs, stomach and throat, a final blow slamming into her gut and making her double over onto the grass, and in a brief moment of clarity, a blasphemous thought struck her.
Charlie had punched her.
Charlie had punched her.
She looked up to see his bare foot swinging up towards her face.
Her last thoughts before impact were notably less divine than the others…
So this is what a football feels like.
WHAM.