The girl from the mire

10

| | 10 | |

"She was defending herself, boss. I mean, you gave them baseball bats. It's pretty obvious we were trying to kill her."

"You don't get it, Peterick. I know who this woman is. She's no little girl. This was the best that I could do since I had almost no time to form a plan. If I had let her in, it would have been only a matter of time before she took power. Then it would have been peace with those assholes beyond the forest. She would have certainly found us out. For fuck sake, this type of shit is what she was good at! I was her friend at one time, Pete. I know her. We'd have been completely fucked. Our deal with the "slaughter house" would have been over. They wouldn't just stay out there anymore, they'd make friends in the city and people would come to accept them like a mind virus. I need our people to fear them. It's why we nail people to the trees and blame it on them. You know this! If everyone thinks that we're on the verge of war, we always will be. I need an enemy for people to need me, to need us. This woman, who I deeply regret killing tonight, would have changed everything. People remember her. Now they can remember that I killed her and they can fear me for it and know that I'm no slouch. They can feel secure knowing that someone like me is in charge of defending this city."

"Yeah, she didn't stand a chance tonight. We lost members over this, though."

"They'll come back after they see what I do to those two friends of her's. Now please, take that woman's body and dump it in the marsh."

"It looks like someone already did."

"Oh, well then. It's been a perfect night."

A woman's voice that sounds high pitch screech yet low slow crackling reverberating distortion pedal hollers in the distance and then a man hollers and begins crying like he's being torn to pieces. Every syllable of his voice turns into sharp, painful pleads and guttural, howling bawls. Then another man plead screams and a loud cracking and ripping sound of bone and flesh fills the air.

Someone's running and then there's a thud. A woman's voice cries out in horrible moans and sniffs and is sharply cut off and another loud thud follows like a head being broken open against a wall.

The two Ghosts hear someone get thrown into glass and then an axe chop and more screaming and crying. Then there's a dragging noise and a loud tight gripping, gutting, rib creaking breaking sound. The fathoms of unsettling scrapes and tree trunk like splitting spills incorporeal blood across every shadow within the fairground. The Grand Ghost's hands begin quivering. She takes the safety off her weapon in its holster.

Gun blasts attack the moment as if they're puny lightning strikes in the distance. A shotgun goes off. A man makes the cry of a berserk animal and then fills the night with his death screams. A wailing woman pleads and sobs and then sounds like she's being torn in half by bare hands.

Another Ghost shrieks and screams, "My leg! You took my leg! Oh god! Nooooooo....." His cries become slippery gargling.

Then the violence begins to bleed into other sides of the Grand Ghost's position. Painful howls mix with fighting blows and ripping flesh. More and more people scream like their eyes are being pushed into the backs of their heads. The Grand Ghost recognizes many of the voices in the throes of their final moments.

A crackling record playing laughter creeks like floorboards across the endless room of the nighttime horror. It comes closer to the two Ghosts, howling, laugh by laugh like a loud wrenching. Step by step.

The Grand Ghost looks to Pete and notices that even his skull mask seems terrified. They nod to each other and pull their guns out. The two circle around each other, back to back and witness green glowing eyes opening from the windows of buildings and the tops of elm trees and the innards of burnt cars and along Ferris wheel scaffolds and between tall grass behind the galvanized chain link...they're everywhere and they're watching.

A man stumbles out of the darkness, his face obscure in his long hood. As he looks up at the Grand Ghost, she notices that he has no face. Its been flayed off, exposing his white skeletal  red features. There's no skin or muscle on lips or cheeks or nose or eyelids or forehead. The Grand Ghost shoots him between where his eyes once were, dropping him instantly.

"I may have seriously underestimated her. I didn't realize she was wearing bulletproof everything and is a fucking mass murderer!"

"She really didn't look like she was wearing body armour, boss. We need to leave right fucking now!"

                                            ****

Jane's body walks out of the shadows holding a severed head by its hair. Her dress is gone, the long shirt is torn to pieces exposing her belly button and a partial breast. She's covered in blood to the point that she looks like she's wearing crimson painted pants. Her boots are wrecked, a bottom heel flaps as she walks. It's one more vandalization to add to the top of the pile that is Jane's fury. She's looking directly at the Grand Ghost. Her body throws the decimated head toward the two and it rolls along to their feet. It comes to a stop, face up, staring at them with eyes like Fedallah roped upon a white whale.

Jane heard everything that the Grand Ghost said. Every word. Every syllable. The mire girl died for this city, and in the end, even with old friends in power, it means less than nothing. It means nothing to the Ghosts.

Bullets whiz by Jane and many go through her. She doesn't stop walking toward them. The man standing beside the Grand Ghost flees. Jane doesn't care. Her body wants the traitor. She does too.

"Hey...maybe we can make a deal! This wasn't personal at all! We can talk this out! I..."

Jane grabs her by the throat and leans into her. The monster's deep crackly voice is like the wind of Hell scorching the face of humanity.

"Boo!"

Jane twists the Grand Ghost's head until it begins separating from her body. She grips and tears flesh until the spine releases with the head. She lets the body collapse on the ground like a used marionette. Jane takes the torn skeletal masked head over to the Ferris wheel and ties the spine into the metal scaffolding like a medieval criminal wrap through the spokes of a wheel. Her justice is placed upon the Grand Ghost's body. The head hangs with it's mouth exposed and open like it's trying to catch invisible rain. The dead lips are so soft and smooth to the touch of Jane's thumb.

She takes the white crown off the Grand Ghost and drops it to the ground and stomps it into particles with one of her ripped and tattered boots with violent hum of a screaming star. She unzips and removes the black, dull shit kickers and hangs them on the scaffold next to the Grand Ghost's countenance. Her legs up to her knees are the only skin on her body not soaked and stained in blood.

Jane shakes her head like a trance is ending. She needs her friends, now. She needs their help. She needs to feel in control again. She needs Rist. Jane runs off to find them, leaving the horror of this night to rot away behind her.