“Powerbrawl is the only sport where you can watch a person choke someone to death with their own intestines. That’s enough to get me hooked.”

-Captain Emile Dryden, 186 U.E.

 

Stephan was in deep trouble.

It was the finals for International Studies 2, and he hadn’t studied at all. The exam hall was quiet as the grave but for pencils scratching and the occasional cough. Moderators scowled from their seats at the front, scanning the room for cheaters.

Stephan stared at the paper before him, pencil in hand, but the questions were all gibberish. The ceiling magelights were far too bright. He blinked, dazed, struggling for breath.

Codes, I’m going to fail this test. What will I do?

“Run away,” a voice said from his left. Feminine. Familiar. “Run, like you always do.”

Looking up, Stephan found a woman standing next to his desk. Brown-haired, with a strong nose and hard eyes, Full lips drawn into a tight line.

“Maya,” Stephan gasped. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” Maya asked with a stale smile. “This is our home.”

He blinked, and when he opened his eyes the exam hall was gone. replaced by the interior of a house. His house.

Maya placed a plate in front of him on the dinner table. Potatoes, beans, and sausages. “Aren’t you happy to be home?”

A baby sat opposite from him in a high chair, green-skinned and black-eyed. Babbling to herself, she chewed on the head of a plastic horse, drool spilling all over.

“Yin?” Stephan asked. “Is that… you?”

“What’s wrong?” Maya whispered in his ear, hissing. “Why aren’t you smiling?”

Stephan’s food had deflated, rotted, full of maggots. Yin had thrown aside her toy, chubby hands bundled at her sides, staring through him.

There was a knock on the front door.

Stephan scrambled out of his chair, knocking it over in the process, and apologized breathlessly. Maya and Yin stared at him, heads slowly turning, as he ran out of the kitchen.

The knocking persisted.

“I’m coming!” Stephan called. “Just a minute!”

He opened the door. A tanned, blond-haired man waited beyond. He scratched at three fine holes in his forehead, hand coming away flaky red. He was familiar, the name tugging at the back of Stephan’s mind. It was a fine day outside, sunny, birds chirping. Pedestrians hurried along, that famous Northmark rush about them.

“Heya, Stephan. How are you, buddy?” the man asked.

Finally, Stephan placed the man.

“Jamine?” he asked. “From university?”

The man smiled. “That’s me. Just came to tell you that my dream finally came true—I’m a captain!” Motioning to himself, Stephan noticed Jamine’s uniform. Blue and white, crisply pressed.

“Wow…” Stephan worked out, mouth suddenly dry. “That’s… I’m happy for you.”

“Oh, I have another thing to show you!”

Jamine turned around, showing a gaping crater in the back of his skull. Part of his brain had been destroyed, the rest scrambled, streaks of dried blood trailing down his otherwise pristine uniform.

“You did this to me,” Jamine said. “Remember?”

Stephan backed away, stomach turning. A pair of hands caught him by the shoulders, kept him in place. Looking back, Maya stared back at him.

“Did you think anyone had forgotten?” Jamine asked, spinning around to face him. “Are you really that naive? We all know what you are.”

The pedestrians on the sidewalk had stopped. They stared up at Stephan with pale, dull eyes. Some had bullet holes through them, just like Jamine. Others had faces swollen beyond any recognition, noses broken, eyes ruined.

“I… I…” Stephan stuttered, struggling and failing to spin an excuse.

“I, I, I,” Maya mimicked, mocking.

“You’re a killer, Stephan,” Jamine said with a smile. “That much we all know. But I know a special little secret.” He leaned in close. Flies burrowed out of the entry holes in his forehead, buzzing about him. “I know how much you miss it,” he whispered conspiratorially.

Stephan tried to pull away, but Maya kept him firmly in place, hands like a vice. He whimpered, legs turned to jelly. “I… did it to…”

“To what?” Jamine asked. “Protect your family? Enforce justice?” He shook his head. “You did it for money, and your own base pleasure.”

“What a hero,” Maya said.

“Please stop,” Stephan whispered. His hands fumbled inside his suit.

“What does your daughter think, hmm?” Jamine asked. “Do you want her to take your example? Is this the kind of woman you want her to become?”

Hearing that, something stirred in Stephan. Something hot. “Shut up,” he hissed. “Don’t mention my daughter.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Jamine spread his arms, laughing derisively. “You already know you’ll never be an adequate father, so there’s no need to go into it.”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Stephan cried.

He pulled the Rivello from its holster and fired. Jamine fell like a sack of bricks, a smoking hole through his heart.

Maya let go and scrambled away. Turning, Stephan found his wife on her knees, hands before her face.

“Oh, please don’t kill me,” Maya said, voice dripping with sarcasm. She peeked through her splayed fingers, grinning wide. “Is that what you want me to say? Make you feel like a big, strong man? Please. Just do it already.”

Stephan obliged. He put one in her brain. Maya toppled back, died without a sound. He was glad to be rid of her goading.

“Dad?”

Yin stood in the doorway to the kitchen. Older than before, a child now.

Stephan blinked, took a teetering step back. All the righteous rage went out of him in a single breath, left him cold. “Sweet pea. Head back into the kitchen. I’ll clean this up.”

“Why?” Yin asked. She padded into the hallway, growing with each step, becoming a woman. “Thanks for the meal,” she said in a chirpy, sing-song voice.

“What?”

Bending down, Yin tore open Maya’s dress and thrust strong fingers into her gut. She pulled apart skin, reaching entrails, and brought them to her mouth. Biting, tearing, gnawing, she swallowed chunks of flesh. Blood smeared over her face, she briefly stopped eating and smiled up at Stephan, beaming.

Stephan put the gun in his mouth.

Bang!

*****

Stephan started awake at a loud noise. Drawing his covers to his chin, he sat up and searched the room.

Amaline shut the door with a bump of her hip. Cleaned up, with a fresh set of clothes, pink hair done in a ponytail. There were still dark bags under her eyes and a pallor to her complexion, but she wore a big smile as she approached the side of Stephan’s bed, carrying a tray.

“I’m feeling a lot better today,” she said, placing the tray over his legs, “so I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

Stephan looked down at the takeaway box. It smelled like durok cuisine.

“I tried to cook, but, well, I burnt it. So I ordered in. I hope that’s alright.”

“Thank you,” Stephan said, more out of reflex than anything. He was still halfway stuck in that terrible dream.

“You seem sad,” Amaline observed. She sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s okay, I’m here if you need somebody to talk to.”

Stephan was going to blow her off, but something about her earnest, bubblegum-pink eyes made him reconsider. She seemed genuinely interested.

“I, uh… had a nightmare,” Stephan admitted. “A bad one. I’ve been having a lot of those lately.”

“What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter. The worst part is that I know my daughter’s been having them too. I don’t know how to help her through it.”

“The little green girl?”

“Mmhmm.”

“She’s so cute! You’re lucky to have a daughter like her.”

“I don’t know if lucky is the word. She can be a real handful. I love her to death, though.”

Amaline clapped her hands together. “That’s so wholesome!” she said with a gleeful squeal. Despite her former profession, her face was full of unbridled innocence. Even without his glasses, Stephan could tell that she didn’t have a hint of deception in her.

“So, do you feel like the worst has passed for you?” Stephan asked.

Amaline nodded. “Yeah. The pain’s going away a bit.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to stay off the laughing-bark?”

“Yup. I’m sure of it. I want to make something better for myself. It’s been a long time since I actually had anything to look forward to.”

“That’s good. This is goodbye, then.”

Amaline bit her pillowy, artificially plumped lower lip. “Actually… there was something I wanted to ask you.”

Stephan sighed. Here we go. This is where she asks for money.

“I want to work for you.”

“What?” Stephan asked.

“Well, I just happened to notice that you don’t have any employees. You’ve only got your daughter helping you out, and she’s too young to take on all that responsibility. You could use a serving girl. Besides…” Proudly, she puffed out her round chest. “…I think I’d be a good draw for customers.”

“Okay, well, that’s an idea. Personally, I think that a recovering addict and an abundance of alcohol sounds like a bad combination.”

“I never had a problem with booze,” Amaline insisted. “Besides, I promise I’d stay away from all of it. Drugs and booze. Not a drop. Please. I want to repay you for your kindness, and honestly, I don’t know where else to go for a job.”

Stephan scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know…”

“I’ll even work the first two months free! How’s that sound?”

“This isn’t a money thing. Codes, I’ve got cash pouring out of my ears these days. I’m just not stoked about hiring someone I don’t know particularly well.”

“Please.” Amaline fixed her with those big puppy eyes and refused to let him go. “Give me a chance, Steph. I won’t let you down. I pinky promise.”

He sighed. “Fine. I suppose trying it out for a night couldn’t hurt.”

The ex-prostitute jumped to her feet with a squeal, breasts heaving. “Yay! I’ll go practice for tonight!” With a skip in her step, she made for the door.

“We’ll see how it goes, and I’ll decide if I want to keep you on after…”

She had already left.