I’m so fucking tired of this bullshit. Having to take care of someone as worthless and stupid as you. It’s ruined my fucking life in so many ways. You don’t have any useful skills and can’t cook anything edible or make this place look remotely clean. You can barely keep a job for more than couple of months, before your stupid, airheaded ass gets fired. Then, it takes you close to a fucking month until you can find another job and that whole time, I’m the one, who has to take care of you. It all falls on me. How the fuck is that fair? W-What the fuck did I see in you, when we first started dating? Haha, who am I kidding? That part should be obvious. You’re hot. Simple as that. You have massive jugs, an ass that’s practically begging to be slapped and a face that would make some super models jealous. I must have thought you were the perfect catch when I first started hanging out with you. Now, I’ve come to realize that your looks are the only good thing about you. You’re boring as fuck, personality-wise. Every time I try to hold a conversation with you, I can literally feel myself losing brain cells. Jesus, I've been with you for three years. Three of the longest fucking years of my life that I’ll never get back…wasted on an airhead like you. I’m sorry, Zoey, but I just can’t take this shit, anymore. I’m…heading out that fucking door and I’m never coming back. Do you understand me? You’re going to be all alone. It almost makes me laugh, trying to imagine how you’re even going to take care of yourself without me. I guess you could go crawling back to daddy and beg him for help. I’m sure that weird old fuck would end up helping you. What? Are you shitting me? You actually want me to stay? Even after hearing all of this? Haha, what are you, some kind of masochist…or does the idea of being alone scare you that much? Hm, I suppose I could consider staying a little bit longer…if you beg…on your hands and fucking knees like the good little bitch you are. Come on, Zoey, show me how badly you want to stay. Show me!
*
*
*
Zoey opened her one good eye and stared up at the ceiling of the RV that she had been sleeping in. She sat up in her bed, holding her head, trying to recover from the nightmare she had just woken up from. Her messy, dirty blond hair was covering her other eye that was usually covered up with an eyepatch. When she looked down, she realized she was still wearing her grey tank top and blue jean shorts from the day before.
Another fucked up dream...about him, too, thought Zoey to herself. Even after his fucking death, the asshole is still ruining my life. Why can't I just forget about him?
Zoey sighed to herself, realizing there was no point in wasting time thinking about a nightmare that she'd already had so many times before. After leaving her semi-comfortable bed, she made her way to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. The first thing her eyes looked at were her breasts and just the mere sight of them angered her.
These stupid fucking tits…I hate them…I hate them more than anything, Zoey thought to herself, harshly, causing her to grip the bathroom counter, tightly, in frustration.
Zoey's good eye then located the eye patch that she had washed off the night prior, sitting on the bathroom counter. First, she pulled her hair back and used the mirror to help herself tie her hair in a pony tail so that her dirty blond hair was no longer covering her eyes. She, then, placed the eye patch back on the eye she usually covered up, before she, herself, could even catch a glimpse of what it looked like. Zoey saw that there was a toothbrush on the bathroom counter and she began searching the rest of the bathroom for some toothpaste, floss or mouthwash but came up empty.
Great, I guess the world will just have to deal with my shitty breath for another day. Next time I search a bigger store, I need to see if I can find some toothpaste at the very least so my own fucking breath doesn't kill me. Also, a change in clothes wouldn't hurt, either. How long have I been wearing this tank top and these shorts for? Hm...the fact I can't remember isn't a good sign.
Zoey left her bathroom and went to the green jacket that was on the couch in the living area of the RV and put it on. She headed back to the bedroom and picked up her Desert Eagle, that was sitting on a dresser next to her bed. She stared at the weapon for a second.
Enemy sniper! Watch out!
The words that played inside of her mind caused her hand to begin shaking while holding the Desert Eagle and a loud explosion, coming from outside the RV, caused her to drop the semi-automatic pistol that she was holding, squat down and place her hands over her ears, in terror. Her breathing increased, drastically, and memories of her time as a soldier flashed, violently, inside of her mind. Eventually, she was able to grab a hold of her thoughts and forced her breathing to slow down, preventing herself from passing out. Zoey picked up the weapon that she had dropped and placed it in the back of her shorts, behind her jacket. She recalled what Ricochet had told her about her weapon not being hidden well but she didn't know where else to put it. Despite, still being scared of what was happening outside of her RV, she knew she had to check out what was happening.
*
*
*
"A...nail bomb?" asked Zoey puzzled, as Ricochet nodded his head, yes, in affirmation.
"Yeah, I planted several of them by the entrance to the RV park," he explained. "It seems as though we have visitors this early in the morning. Probably friends of the guys I killed, yesterday."
"How did they find us?" questioned Zoey.
Ricochet shrugged his shoulders, carelessly.
"Don't know, don't fucking care, to be honest. If I were you, though, I'd find somewhere to hide so that they don't find you."
"W-What about you?"
"Some morning exercise won’t kill me," said Ricochet as he walked in the direction of where the explosion came from.
"B-But...I can help—"
"I appreciate the offer but you'll just get in my way. This will be much quicker, if you just stay hidden. Don't worry, this won't take long."
Zoey thought about defending herself but remembered what the voice in her nightmare had said. No matter how much she wanted to disagree with what the voice had said in her dream and what Ricochet was telling her, now, she knew, in her heart, that they were both right about her.
She really was just a useless, big boobed, airhead. She couldn't even shoot her own weapon. She decided to leave the intruders to Ricochet and to just stay out of his way, even though, she hated every part of the decision.
*
*
*
"Jesus...what the fuck?!" yelled one of the armed intruders, who was the only one among the group, holding an assault rifle, specifically, an AK-47.
Him and the other intruders were staring at one of their friends, who had stepped on one of the nail bombs Ricochet had planted. His legs were completely blown off and were nothing but stubs. He was missing his right arm and his left arm was badly wounded. The man's face was barely recognizable since so much of it had been blown off as well, revealing bits of skull and flesh, under the burnt skin.
"W-What kind of...asshole are we dealing with here?" asked another one of the intruders, who was holding a baseball bat.
"It doesn't matter. He killed a lot of our men, including our leader," reminded the intruder with the AK-47. "I don't care if he's the fucking terminator, we're going to avenge their deaths. We'll move in pairs of two and three since we have an odd number of men, now. Let's hurry and kill this bastard and go home."
The group of 9 intruders split into 3 groups of 2 and 1 group of 3. Inside of the group of 3 was the intruder holding the AK-47, who, despite his confident words, was slightly concerned about the type of survivor they were dealing with since he was crafty enough to plant nail bombs at the entrance of the RV park.
*
*
*
"What kind of guy are we dealing with?" asked one of the intruders, who was in a group of two and holding a Glock-19 handgun. "This guy was able to kill our leader, the guys with him and build nail bombs. That's pretty fucking hardcore."
The other intruder that was with him, who was holding a baseball bat, scratched his chin in thought.
"Yeah, but we far outnumber him and, on top of that, the nail bomb only took out one of us. We were beyond lucky because those things are dangerous. Luckily, Joe was a dumbass and is always walking ahead of the group. In the end, though, his dumb ass saved us and now, thanks to him, we have the numbers game."
The intruder with the handgun heard a noise coming from behind a bush and pointed his weapon at it, his hand shaking.
"There's...something behind that bush," claimed the intruder with the Glock-19 pointed, directly, at the bush where the noise came from.
The two approached the bush, cautiously, weapons drawn. When they were close enough, they both peeked over the bush to see what was on the other side. Without warning, Ricochet, who was hiding on the other side of the large bush, side-stepped the two enemies, pushed their heads together with his left hand and jammed his claw blade through both of their skulls, horizontally, with the sharp edges, sticking out of the second intruder’s head as both of their bodies went limp. He ripped the claw blade out of the side of their skulls and dragged their bodies behind the bush so no one would find them.
*
*
*
The other 3 groups that were closer together than the pair that was already taken out were now by all of the different RVs that were in the park.
"Alright, each group will check a different RV until we find the fucker," ordered the intruder with the AK-47. "He has to be hiding inside one of them. It's the most logical place to hide, after all."
All three of the groups each entered a different RV to check for Ricochet. One pair of two which consisted of two intruders with Glock-19 handguns, entered a large, tan colored RV, slowly. They made their way through it, checking every nook and cranny to make sure Ricochet wasn't hiding anywhere. The last area of the RV that the pair decided to check was the bathroom because the door to it was shut, when they first entered. One of the intruders grasped the door handle, waited for his partner's approval which was a nod of his head, and then opened the door to the bathroom to check it. As soon as the bathroom door was opened, the intruder, who opened the door, took a step inside the bathroom to check behind the door just in case but felt his foot hit something. Before the two intruders knew it, a nail bomb exploded right in front of them, tearing through their skin and dismembering them both in gruesome fashion.
The intruder with the AK-47 and the other two men that were with him rushed out of the RV that they had just finished checking to see what caused the noise. All three intruders stared at the tan motor home and could see smoke through one of the windows from the explosion. The intruder with the AK-47 signaled his two men to check the RV for him. They both, reluctantly, listened to him and made their way into the RV. One of the men ran out of the RV, immediately, after seeing what was inside, and threw up, causing the intruder with the AK-47 to feel uneasy.
"Both dead," said the intruder, who was still in the tan RV while the other one was recovering from puking. "Judging by what's left of the bodies, I would say it was another nail bomb."
"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" exclaimed the intruder with the AK-47 in anger.
The other pair of two walked out of a different RV and shook their heads, signaling that there wasn't anyone inside of it, meaning that the only RV with a trap in it was the tan one.
"Poor bastards checked the one RV that had a trap in it," the intruder with the AK-47 deduced. "If he isn't in the RVs, then where the fuck is he?"
As if on cue, a barrage of bullets blasted through two of the intruders' skulls, splattering a combination of brain matter and skull fragments behind them and tearing their faces apart, in the process. The intruder with the AK-47 and the two men that were with him all turned around to see Ricochet standing in front of them, pointing his Micro Uzi submachine gun at them with his left hand.
"When I was making the nail bombs for the front entrance, I had an extra one left over," explained Ricochet. "I didn't really know where to put it and held off on putting it anywhere for a bit until last night, actually. In anticipation of you assholes potentially following me back here, I thought it would be funny to put it in the bathrooms of one of the RVs. Just a little lighthearted trolling. In terms of why I chose that particular one...well, that's a secret."
Not much of a secret, thought Ricochet to himself. I had to wait until the girl chose her RV so I didn't end up putting it in her bathroom. She may be annoying and way too fucking talkative for her own good but I don't really want to blow her tits off. Not unless she gives me a reason to.
"You three are really lucky you ended up not searching that RV...either that, or the two that did check it were really fucking unlucky."
"Bold of you to show your face, you piece of shit," said an intruder, who was pointing his Glock-19 handgun at Ricochet. "Can't you tell that you're outnumbered?"
"Three on one? Eh, I've dealt with worse. Much worse. Plus, you guys don't seem to have much combat experience."
"Let's kill this asshole!" yelled another one of the intruders.
"Achoo!"
A sneeze coming from the forest area that was behind the three RVs interrupted the conflict.
"Oh, for fuck's s—"
Ricochet quickly realized that he lacked the time to complain about Zoey’s massive fuck up because the intruder with the AK-47 began running towards where the noise was coming from while the other two pointed their weapons at Ricochet, ready to fire.
"You two take care of this asshole while I go find out, who made that noise!" commanded the intruder with the AK-47.
The intruder with the AK-47 made his way towards the forest area to check out who was responsible for the distracting sneeze. Meanwhile, one of the intruders that had stayed behind fired a bullet at Ricochet, aiming right at his throat, since his face was protected by his hockey mask. Using reaction time that was usually only seen in movies, Ricochet managed to slice the bullet in mid-air with his claw blade, aimed his submachine gun at the intruder, who had shot him, using his left hand and pulled the trigger, releasing several bullets that all blasted through his target’s chest, turning his torso into Swiss cheese.
Bang!
Unfortunately, while Ricochet had taken out one of the intruders, the other had shot him in the lower-left side of his stomach, just missing his tactical vest. The bullet had pierced his flesh but didn’t end up coming out the other end of his back, meaning he would have to take out the bullet, later, when he was finished.
“Unfucking believable,” commented Ricochet, carelessly, as he aimed his submachine at the remaining intruder, without even looking up and pulled the trigger.
As the intruder flopped onto the ground in a pool of his own blood, Ricochet continued to study the bullet wound on the lower-left side of his stomach.
“You really do hate to see it,” was all he could will himself to say. “Oh yeah, my big titted damsel in distress is in trouble. I suppose I could just let her die…then again, knowing my shitty luck, she’ll come back as a busty ghost and annoy me from beyond the grave. That’s a fucking scary thought.”
*
*
*
Shit, fucking allergies, thought Zoey to herself as she attempted to run away while still crouched. Hopefully, Ricochet is alright. I heard gunfire after I sneezed.
The deafening sound of gun fire startled her, causing Zoey to, clumsily, fall onto her stomach. She craned her neck and saw that no bullets had entered her body, anywhere, and that the gunfire was just meant to scare her. Despite not being shot, Zoey's legs were trembling so much out of fear of the gunfire, that she couldn't force herself to stand up. Instead, she used her arms to attempt to crawl away until her legs would stop trembling, not knowing what else to do.
"Well, what do we have here?" asked a voice coming from behind her.
Zoey stopped her crawling to check behind her and she got a glimpse of the intruder with the Ak-47, who had a sinister smile on his face.
"I didn't expect to find a beauty like you here. Are you the other guy's girlfriend?"
"Not even fucking close!" yelled Zoey as she resumed her, desperate, crawling.
"Oh well, that's probably a good thing, considering he’s probably dead by now."
Zoey, again, paused her crawling, after hearing that Ricochet had been killed.
"Haha, the guy most likely went down like a little bitch, after being distracted by that sneeze of yours. I suppose I should thank you. If it wasn't for you, he might have very well killed all three of us. The way he confronted us like that...out in the open…he didn't seem like he planned on losing. Luckily, that loud ass sneeze of yours distracted him, giving my guys the chance to shoot him down. Now, what am I going to do with you? Since you helped us, I wouldn't mind letting you join our group. We don't have any pretty girls with us, currently, especially with one with such…assets such as yourself."
"Go fuck yourself," cursed Zoey as she kept trying to crawl away and ignore all of the racing thoughts in her mind.
The intruder with the AK-47 sighed and tossed his weapon onto the ground so that he didn’t have to carry it as he made his way towards Zoey, who hadn't gotten too far away from him.
"In that case, you don't leave me with much choice."
The intruder, no longer with his weapon, forcefully, turned Zoey over, socked her in the mouth with his fist and wrapped both of his large hands around her throat while positioning himself on top of her. He began strangling her as hard as he could in an attempt to kill her as soon as possible. Zoey tried to use her fingernails to, desperately, scratch the man's face but this didn't cause him to release his grip on her throat.
This serves me right, Zoey thought to herself as her vision became dazed. It's what I get for being so damn useless. What's the point of fighting back? I should just let him kill me. It's for the best. Ricochet is already gone. If I end up joining anyone else, I'll just get them killed too.
Zoey stopped her struggling and accepted her fate. The intruder was now someone else in Zoey's mind...someone she knew all too well...the same person from her dreams.
You...were right...about me.
Zoey didn't want to look at the face of the man, who was in her dreams, so she closed her eye, waiting to die. All of the sudden, the grip on her neck was loosened and she could hear gagging coming from above her. Then, she felt something drip onto her forehead. She opened her eye and saw that the intruder, who was strangling her, had been stabbed in the throat by Ricochet's claw blade and was choking on his own blood, that was also, the thing dripping onto Zoey's face. Ricochet, lazily, ripped his claw blade out of the man’s throat and more blood sprayed onto Zoey, causing her to scream, being disgusted by how much blood was on her. She scurried away as the last intruder fell onto the ground, lifelessly. She was now on her knees, panting from nearly being strangled to death. She looked up and saw Ricochet staring at her, not saying a word. Despite not being able to see his face, she knew exactly what he was thinking and Zoey could feel herself getting upset.
"I already know," said Zoey. "I'm fucking useless and this is all my fault. That's what you want to say, right? Go right ahead, everyone always says I'm fucking useless. It's nothing new. Hell, even I think I'm useless. You could never understand... how much I hate myself. I hate what I look like...I hate my big, stupid tits...I hate my face...I hate my body...I hate my personality and most of all, I hate how fucking useless I am! I'm nothing...nothing but a burden...no matter where I go," Zoey finished as she began crying from the stress of everything that had happened. One thing that Ricochet noticed, immediately, but decided not to bring up was that tears only came out of her good eye and not from under her eyepatch.
Aw shit, I hate tears, thought Ricochet as Zoey continued to bawl in front of him.
He scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly, while blood was still coming out of his stomach wound.
"Look, it's not that big of a deal," comforted Ricochet, to the best of his ability. "I've been shot plenty of times so this is nothing new…and…...in your defense...it is allergy season. It's nothing to cry about so...can you please stop this blubbering?"
Ricochet's words were able to help Zoey hold back some of her tears and she looked up at him.
"Listen, I don't know what happened in your past and I still couldn’t give less of a shit if I tried, but...those things you were just talking about...low self-esteem...body dysmorphia...they can be a real bitch, especially if you can't move past them. It can be hard, though. That's for damn sure."
"Y-You sound like...you talk...from experience," said Zoey through her sniffling.
Ricochet thought for a minute, before responding.
"Yeah, maybe I do. You definitely aren't the only one who's dealt with or is dealing with those kinds of problems. There are tons of people who hate how they look. After all, we're our own biggest critics...or something like that. I don't know. I mean...my face is so fucked up that I have to wear a hockey mask all of the damn time...so, I guess I kind of know where you're coming from. But, at this point, who the fuck cares what we look like? The world is fucked and everyone left here is nothing but an asshole, anyways. Everyone left behind is either ugly on the inside or the outside...so, caring about our appearances these days seems a little pointless, doesn't it?"
"Y-You do have a point," Zoey agreed, finally, managing to smile through the tears. "Even if that point is really fucking depressing."
It could have been Zoey's imagination but she could have sworn that she heard Ricochet, chuckle, softly, behind his hockey mask.
"Anyways, there's a little lake behind this RV park, if you want to wash all of that blood off?" explained Ricochet, pointing behind Zoey. "I'm going to go ahead and take care of the bodies, patch myself up and clean up the bloody mess in the tan RV. We don't want animals here in the RV camp, especially if we're both still sleeping here."
"T-Thank you," responded Zoey as she picked herself up and made her way in the direction that Ricochet was pointing at.
As Ricochet watched Zoey make her way to the river, he let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank God, I always hate dealing with tears...that girl hates herself, huh...hm, there's something that I can understand," said Ricochet as he headed towards the body of the intruder, who had the AK-47, to take care of the corpse while Zoey was washing the blood off of her body.
