Appearances By: None
Mentioned: Brody Reno, Jamie Heck, Casanova, Hardcore Timmay


Don’t Eat My Pussy!
Hurk? Flowers?


Alaska was chilly, at about six Celsius (42ºF)… which made sense because it was the first week of October. But then again, Picton was about thirteen (55ºF) degrees. It was the evening, so my boyfriend would be ‘rising’ soon. I’d been home for a day since Impulse. The bruises from Reno and Heck had faded into yellowish markings that could be hidden beneath… well… you know… cover-up. My arms were a different story. The bruises from the mosh pit were still present, brownish blue on my porcelain skin. My arm was still a bit tender from Casanova wrenching it for God knows how long, but not as bad as it had been after Impulse… thankfully.

I stood in the kitchen against the corner where two countertops intersected. My arms were crossed over my chest that was held snugly in a black t-shirt with Metallica in silver letters across the top and a red, skull with its spine wrapped in a straight jacket down the middle. The back was covered in the same sort of skull/spine lunatic, with all the dates of concerts beside it. A pair of black, cotton, track pants hung from my hips with two red lines down the side. My feet were naked against the linoleum floor. It wasn’t a wise decision considering the old stains on the floor. Both burn marks and blood stains covered the tiles. I knew they were old but it was still a bit of an irking feeling to step across someone’s blood. And I wasn’t about ready to get down on my hands and knees and scrub like some old wash maid. Do I look like a maid to you? I thought not.

The coffee was brewing. I was tired and needed a good cup o’ Joe. My chin was tilted downwards, eyes closed. There was a soft ‘mew’ behind me which caused my eyes to open. I felt a small pressure against my back and I turned to see my new kitten nuzzling my arm. The kitten was small, perhaps about seven weeks old. I’d found her last week on my property and instantly fell in love. Her coat was entirely black and her eyes were yellowish-green. And she was absolutely adorable. I’d named her Zane.

I moved to the refrigerator and the kitten watched me with those wide eyes. Within the refrigerator were typical things for any male: beer, other assorted booze, and food. I reached in and grasped the milk container, returning to my kitten. I got a medium-sized plate from a cupboard above the counter and placed it in front of the kitten on the counter. She began to sniff at it lightly before I poured some milk into the plate. She mewed curiously at me before licking cautiously at the cool liquid. My fingers gently stroked down her spine as she drank from the plate.

The coffee pot clicked and whirred a few times before the red light on the front of it came on. I pulled my overly large mug closer and poured. Black coffee: the only way to go. Forget all that sugar and milk. I couldn’t be bothered to mix it all together. Just grind up the beans, add water and gimmie. The same went with steak. Just cut it off the cow, put it through a warm room and serve it to me.

The kitten continued to lap at the milk, purring contently, as I drank from my mug. All I needed now was a cigarette and a doughnut. A cigarette was doable, but I didn’t really like doughnuts…

I was drawn from my temptation of a cigarette with my coffee at someone ringing the gate buzzer. Being the only one awake, I moved to the door and pressed the intercom button.

“Who is it?” I asked, tilting my head a bit to the side. The voice that responded seemed spoken through a tin can.

“Brad from Buds ‘R’ Us? I have a delivery for a Miss Jordan?” He asked sort of timidly.

“How did you find me here?”

“Your neighbour in Picton directed us here. Said you’re rarely home.” He replied. My brow rose curiously and I sighed.

“I’ll be right out…” A few minutes later, I returned into the house, carrying a paper-wrapped vase with red roses and tiger lilies within. My fingers found the card in the mass of flora and withdrew it. And to my surprise, it was from my opponent for this week’s Impulse: Hardcore Timmay. The card read like this:

Dearest Gwen, should you have missed my promo, I would like to tell you that we should look at a different kind of relationship. One of love, one of respect. To hell with Impulse, join me for a cup of espresso at Starbucks. Let us venture unto world's with one another, that only two hearts can see for all their worth...


I placed the floors down on the counter beside Zane and removed the newspapers. Zane was instantly into them, finding herself wrapped up in them and fighting her way out. I gazed to the card, then the flowers, then the card again. I couldn’t help but begin to chuckle, reading over the card again in disbelief.

“You have got to be shitting me.” I muttered to myself. I picked up my coffee mug, having heard DS pacing around on the top floor, though it was very faint. The only reason I could hear it was because there were no other sounds in the house save for the whir of the refrigerator.

As if she knew what was going on, Zane crawled up onto my shoulder and curled herself around the side of my neck, probably falling asleep. I grasped the card and moved to the stairs to the top floor and to the bedroom. I slid inside, still reading the card.

Darkstar’s room was obviously the Master Bedroom on the top of the three-floor mansion. There were boarded up glass doors that had once led onto a balcony, but being the ever pale man, DS didn’t like the sun. Hey, not that I blamed him, I didn’t either. The bed was straight ahead once you came in through the doors. Directly to the left was a dresser with a television on top of it. And further to the left was a door to the washroom. Finally there were the walk-in closets to the right. The room was pretty much empty, just further delving my position on my boyfriend being a minimalist despite his massive house. Hell, the notion was even more reinforced considering had half of his house boarded off from the part we lived in.

“You’ve got to read this, chéri. It came with a vase of roses and tiger lilies.” I said, plopping down on the end of the bed with its black, satin sheets and my coffee. Zane crawled down my chest until she pounced onto the bed. She curled up beside my leg, nestled in the well loved-on and happily rumpled sheets. I put the card on the sheets for him to grab at his own discretion. I eyed my boyfriend quietly for a few moments. He looked like he was still asleep, laying in bed, probably naked for all I knew. Poor baby… meanwhile, I’d been up for four hours already. Suck it up, Buttercup.

Slowly his arm moved and grabbed a cigarette and a plain, black, bic lighter off the nightstand. Lighting the smoke he tossed the lighter aside. Exhaling he sat up and snapped his neck back and forth with a loud crack. With a grunt he grabbed the card and looked it over. Growling slight for a second he tossed it over next to me.

“Make sure you kill this little prick. He isn't what I wanted to wake up to...” His hand moved back to the nightstand to grab a glass ashtray. I shifted lightly on the bed, around my kitten that instantly rolled onto her back without my leg supporting her. I pressed my back to the headboard and lightly kissed his shoulder, placing my coffee on the nightstand. My hand lifted to softly run over his head, idly fingering the scar there for a brief moment.

“Aww, chéri, I found it funny.” I cooed lightly against his shoulder, still petting his head soothingly. “’Sides, why would I want to leave mon diable for some arrogant fuckwit…” I added lightly, calling him by the pet name I had for him. It was French for ‘my devil’. He snorted slightly as if he were amused before grabbing my coffee and taking a gulp of it. I mock-pouted and nipped his shoulder.

“Heyy, get your own…” I whined sarcastically, giving the back of his neck a soft squeeze. Zane swatted lightly at my naked toes, and I instantly curled them against the soles of my feet. She was unimpressed as she climbed onto my leg, nestled herself on my thighs and once more, fell asleep. He then took another gulp of my coffee.

“I'm gonna have to get my own. Yours is gone.” With that he handed me the empty cup before looking down the bed. My brow rose lightly, staring at the empty cup.

“Bitch.” Was my reply as I bit my nails lightly into the back of his neck. I placed my mug on the bedside table, muttering soft curses at him playfully in French. I knew he wouldn’t understand them… unless he’d been taking French For Dummies right under my nose. It wasn’t exactly an easy language to learn.

“Who's that?” He said looking at the cat in my lap. Always the master of topic switching. My hands left him to gently pick up the kitten that meowed in protest. I smiled proudly, a big, ol’ toothy grin.

“This is Zane. I found her at my place all alone and skinny as all fuck.” I said, my voice growing a bit solemn as I continued. After pulling the kitten from me he held it up above his face in a large hand as if analyzing it. My brow rose curiously, having only seen a veterinarian look at an animal like that.

“Guess we'll have to make her strong.” He said after a few moments. I nodded gently, resting my chin on top of his shoulder.

“Just don’t eat my pussy.” I said with a wide grin. He snorted but didn't respond. Setting the cat on his shoulder it perched there as if it were a pirate's parrot. I pouted lightly again.

“Oh, you’re no fun.” I grumbled as I crawled into a sitting position on the edge of the large bed, crumpling the little card into my fist and stuffing it into my pocket. My hand moved into my other pocket, drawing out my pack of smokes and lighting one. Standing up, with the kitten still perched on his shoulder he walked over to an intercom on the wall. His massive body revealed more scars than I cared to count. His back was an amalgam of scars. At one point, he told me that the flesh was literally hanging from his back and he had burned it back to his body with a hot cookie sheet. Yummy… skin cookies. Pressing the button, his raspy voice gains its typical sinister tone.

“Demonica.” He only said it once and waited. Thirty seconds later she replied.

“I'm here.” The kitten sniffed at the intercom while he replied. I remained on the bed, puffing my smoke.

“Get your ass upstairs for breakfast. We have a lot of training to do today.” With that, he just turned back and walked back over to me. “Wanna train with us?” A sick smirk crossed his features and it made me sickly paranoid. My brow rose curiously as I exhaled politely downwards.

“My dear… fucking you is enough training for me.” I teased with my own sinister grin. I shrugged again, growing serious once more as I tapped the cigarette over the ash tray. “I guess… Just… don’t break skin or bones, eh? I need to be intact for my match with HCT on Sunday.” I said with a pensive frown. Already, I was on edge. At all costs, I had avoided going to train with them. But now… I had run out of excuses.

“You sure this is what you want?” His tone was extremely serious. His tone stressed more than just the question itself. Training might just be more important than anything else to him and he takes it as a life or death situation. Demonica has become much like him in that respect. I was more like… meh. I could hold my own well enough against any man I’d met previously in the ring. And I’d never had to face my massive boyfriend or my not-so-massive-but-still-intimidating-as-fuck best friend. My nose wrinkled faintly, the barbell through the bridge of my nose lifting a tad with the movement.

“No… but I know how much it means to you.” I replied softly, shoulders shrugged lightly. I butt out my cigarette in the tray, sort of looking at the floor more than him. He knew how I felt about training… and near-death experiences contained therein.

“Don't train with us for me.” He said, getting a pair of boxers on and a pair of shorts. He turned back and handed me the kitten from his shoulder. I took Zane and placed her on my own shoulder where she curled along my collar bone. “I figured you'd be against the cat training. Why don't the two of you hang out while we train? Let's eat.” With that, he opened the door and headed out to the kitchen, leaving me perched on the bed for a few minutes, just thinking. My hand lifted to gently stroke Zane’s head before I grabbed the coffee mug, stood and moved out to the hallway. I followed Darkstar to the kitchen, a tad slower than normal since I was balancing the kitten on my neck.

“Well, Cat… how much do you know about playing five-stud poker?” I muttered to myself quietly, just on this side of dejected. The cat meowed, without a care in the world. Lucky thing. My brain was rotting as it was, already since all I did was watching television usually while they were beating the living fuck out each other. I arrived in the kitchen and poured myself another cup of coffee.


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(Credit to R.D. also known as ‘Darkstar’ for helping me out on posts.)

Kitty