The Switchblade Mamma

  29.

  Nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to do. I had no idea myself. I erased all thoughts of happy humanity and focused on violence. The very blood that was coursing through my veins, transferred violence throughout my body and pulsated it to my brain. No one could see it, but my eyes glared red madness behind my head bag. Throughout the whole drive, my nails were digging into my palms. The blood slowly oozed out. I remained silent and focused the whole ride there.

  As we entered the waiting room, the boys left so that I could get dressed. Page quietly sat upon the bench and watched me as I changed. She remained silent, but her eyes, trained on me. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

  I remained silent and continued to dress. I sat down quietly and put on my boots.

  "Hello?" She took her hand and grabbed my arm forcing me to stop tying.

  Like a robot, I slowly turned my head to look at her. She leaned back and gasped as soon as she saw my eyes. "My God, where are you?"

  I gave her a sly smile. "Apparently, not here."

  "Jesus Christ, Lillian. I'm not fucking around here, what are you going to do?" Paige asked.

  I took a deep breath and smiled. "What I must do, survive."

  "Please don't do anything that you will regret."

  I let out a little laugh. "Been there, done that. I have no idea what brought me into this life, but I do regret whatever mechanism it was that brought me here. But as soon as I figure it out, I'm out of here like a blaze of hell to consume their soul with fire. No Mercy Paige, no mercy."

  "Do you love me?"

  I once again turned to look at her. I didn't want to lose focus from my anger, but I didn't want to lose Paige either. I just needed some time. I needed time to lose myself. I felt if I had love inside my heart, I wouldn't be able to commit heinous acts that I would have to do to survive. But if there was a barrier inside my heart that would prevent me from feeling any love, to become soft, Paige just sliced it open with a knife. "I do, without a doubt I do."

  "Then stop this madness." Her lips quivered as her eyes teared up.

  I exhaled. I placed my thumbs lightly over her eyes wiping away the tears and softly spoke. "But it is the madness that will help me survive."

  "Lillian, there are horrible things that people do. But there are also horrible things that people have to do. Just because you have to do it does not mean you have to embellish upon it. Get in there and be swift, but don't put on a show. Just stay alive."

  If anything, the tears had magnified the autumn in her eyes by 1000. Her face became so fragile like porcelain. I knew I had come too far just to not care, but the problem was that my anger for the world was masking my true emotions. I took my hands and pulled her brown hair from her face. I closed my eyes and kissed her slowly, softly and deeply. Releasing my hands from her face, I smiled. "Hopefully my love, I shall see you on the other side. "I stood up and walked over to the bag. I began punching and warming up. I tried to leave Paige behind and tried to feel the anger stew up once again. In between my hits towards the bag, Paige's soft sobbing echoed throughout the room.

  When it was time, Clive and Barrett entered the room. They collected me like I was some sort of convict ready for execution. We walked in silence down the halls. It was an incredibly cold year and our breath was admitted and spread out like tiny clouds of smoke in a tiny little atmosphere.

  As the boys walked in front of us, Paige grabbed my hand and held it tightly. It's coldness impressionable at first, but soon warmed up. I felt she was trying to cast her positive energy onto me. She was trying so desperately to keep me from doing the unthinkable. Her efforts were no doubt admirable, but unfortunately, non-effective.

  As we walked up the staircase and entered the killing floor, my hand left Paige's. I had no butterflies, nor any more nervousness. Everything that I had been through four the last two years had built up to this. I could not have been any more ready. My soul was ablaze and I was willing to do Asmodeous's bidding. As I peeled away my black hoodie jacket and threw to the ground, I felt my two knives resting within my pocket. They were of course no match for a mighty sword, but I at least I had madness on my side.

  The lights lifted and blared into my eyes, with my fists clenched, I slowly walked past the chain-link gate fence and onto the killing floor. I stood motionless and waited for my opponent. I could hear the crowd yelling. They were thirsty for blood, as was I.

  As the theme music changed, Susan slowly emerged. She was quite the tall girl. Her hair was long and blonde and pulled back into a ponytail. I could barely see her eye sockets, but her eyes flared an ocean blue. She looked dangerous. I hoped the feeling was mutual. We walked into the middle of the floor and the music stopped, both eyes locked on each other, we waited for the cue to kill.

  There was a moment when time had stopped. Everything slowed down. I took a deep breath. I exhaled and tried to think of my next course of action. Death was an option, but at this point since I learned so much, it was no longer. Because I felt I was no longer human, I craved blood. If the rich people wanted a show, I was the one to give it to them.

  The okay to fight was given. Neither of us rushed each other, but rather circled, slowly. I was so into it with myself, I could hear my own breathing. She knew as well as I, it was a show we were to put on. Fists first.

  She moved first. The transfer of fist fighting was quick and sporadic. She came in quickly with her left and rights, I dodged. I moved in. She dodged my left and rights. As soon as the fists were exhausted, legs came into play. She was quick. Susan planted many kicks upon my torso, but I sent them back.

  It seemed in the game of mixed martial arts, both of us were as equals. It was possible we could go all night, leaving ourselves with battered and bruised arms. I knew the crowd was growing tired with our simple battering, but I would not draw my weapon first.

  We continued in the transfer of punching, kicking and grappling. My face became battered and bloodied, as well as hers. When the crowd finally began to boo us, was when Susan finally pulled her sword. With one arm, as she slowly pulled it from the sheath that was planted on her back, it glimmered and sparkled underneath the bright spotlights. My eyes widened and my mouth dropped as I saw its steel glory.

  My knives were nothing compared to her sword, but I knew in fact from my last fight, if I threw it right, I would hit the spot that would end it all.

  My dreams never depicted me dying. Of course I swam in other people's blood and relished over their death, but then never did I die. I had a quick case of d?j? vu. I could foresee Susan's moves before she made them. The sword would come down quickly and I would dodge. Being the Switchblade Mama, at some point I would have to release my weapons. To keep things going, I was going to play dumb. I took my teeth and scraped them over my lower lip. I pulled out my switchblade. The sword was of course mighty, but it was big and dumb. If you did not make your strike, then you were vulnerable.

  Susan came in for a strike. I quickly moved out of the way, pulled my blade out and struck into her back. I made sure it was not a lethal spot, but priming the beast for a glorified death. I kept my distance as she screamed out with pain, pulled out my knife and tossed it outside of the fence. One last knife remained. But first, the wolf must play with the sheep.

  My lips curled at the edges and I began my planted plan of chaos. Dinner was served and destruction was on the menu. Without hesitation, I moved in and began to choke Susan. Her eyes filled with fear, she planted the blunt end of the sword into my head and created a mighty gash. As I willingly fell to the ground, allowing much blood to spill, I awaited her attack. Her sword came down as I rolled out of the way. The sword clashed with the concrete, creating a blaze of sparks.

  I rose to my feet, smiling as I knew I had her attention. Continuing with my plan, I dodged each and every swing of her swift metal sword. I moved in close enough to at least get hit by her fists. Her hits of course were hard, but none of which faded me. I still had one knife left at play.
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  It was a cheap shot, but I wanted nothing more than to just piss her off. At the end of one of her swings, I pulled out my last knife and jabbed the curled end of the serrated Spyderco Merlin into her side. Purposely leaving myself vulnerable, Susan planted the hilt of the sword several times into my face. As I felt that one, I fell to the ground on my hands and knees, face exploding with blood. Positioning myself so, I knew she was going in for decapitation. I wanted it. I was ready. The timing had to be right, or it would be my head rolling over the ground.

  The sheep had finally turned into the Wolf. As the crowd roared and cheered Susan on for the final kill, I wanted my last gaze to be directly into Paige's eyes, but it was impossible. Knowingly, with my back to her, I awaited a false execution.

  Smiling, with blood coated teeth, I looked up at Susan as she lifted the sword and began to drop it. On my hands and knees, I pulled my legs up from behind me and swung them outward. As the sword dropped down, I stretched my boot to make contact. Using all my strength, I kicked it out of her hands and watched it as it flew across the floor and into the chain-link fence. Its hilt prevented it from escaping at all.

  Susan was caught off guard and I got up quickly, head-butting her and smashing my face into hers over and over again. As I crushed her face against mine, I could hear the bone cracking. As the mighty Susan fell onto her knees, I casually walked to the edges of the chain-link fence and grabbed the sword.

  I could've ended it at that, but I didn't want to. The madness was screaming for more blood. Susan would die by my hands. As she tried to stop the gushing crimson waterfall from her face, I walked up to her with the sword. I was no longer seeking the virtues of mercy, but rather the will of Asmodeus. As she was blinded by her own blood, sword in hands, I raised it without mercy. I could hear the crowd in an insane uproar, thus fueling my fire. With bloody teeth showing and without hesitation, the sword dropped, clearing her head completely. As the head rolled upon the floor, her torso dropped, motionless in a sea of red. No longer, Lillian Ann Cross, the Switchblade Mama went to the decapitated head, picked it up and threw it into the crowd.

  It was a direct hit, right beneath Paul Bishop and his evil bitch wife's feet, Michelle. I raised my arms and yelled like a crazed maniac, "you want a monster, you fucking got one! "Arms raised, in a crazed state, I screamed. I wanted everyone to know that night, that the Switchblade Mama was not one to be reckoned with. In my deranged passion, yelling, un-hinged, I was pulled from the floor. Screaming in wildly all the way.

  I sat, motionless and covered with blood on the ground and in the corner of the room. It was empty and cold beside Paige. She kept her distance and said nothing. Her eyes glazed with the acts I had just committed. Her face, covered in dread and fear. I refused to shower and/or any other comfort. I sat in complete madness until the door opened and Paul Bishop emerged and cleared Paige of the room.

  I watched him as he slithered closely. He had a cigar in mouth and walked with a drunken pace. Smiling, he placed himself in front of me. Smelling of liquor, he spoke. "You put on a good God damn show tonight. It was like, you knew every move she was going to take, but you did not take advantage. That fight, was the greatest fight!"

  I remained stationary and stared into the ground, blood slowly dripping from my face and quietly splattering on the ground "Glad you liked it."

  Paul Bishop's moves were drunk and reckless, but she spoke with great sincerity. "For your extreme achievement, I shall reveal to you, he who sold you out."

  I raised my head to look at him. I took a deep breath and my mind became focused. I knew he was drunk and I also knew he was prime to say anything. "Do tell, sir." I said and my eyes became wide and ready for the answer underneath my blood soaked face. I knew it was just a possible ploy. Perhaps, for some reason he wished to stir up my anger even more, but why and for what reason? I had already won the season and we had at least another year to go before I would fight again. But either way, I listened quietly.

  He took another Puff of his cigar and smiled. "I've known the man for quite some while, actually. He worked with me, once upon a time. Old gambling buddies we were as well." He took another puff of his cigar and sat down next to me higher up on the bench. Through the stale taint smelling fumes of my blood, I could smell his expensive cologne entering my nasal passageways. "Fortunately, he had the greatest gift of losing. And I don't like not collecting. Whether it be $10, or 50,000, he owed. I extended his debts, but he still didn't pay up." He turned his head to look at me, a plume of smoke blowing into my face. "I gave my final ultimatum. Pay up or lose a limb. So, your stepfather, knowing what I was into, gave up his healthy stepdaughter girl to pay off his debts."

  I said nothing. With my eyes wide open and my mouth dropped, I leaned back against the wall. It was so very hurtful, but it did not shock me one bit. I knew my step father was shady, but for some reason my mother fell for him. It was always happiness that she was looking for and at least some sort of happy complete family for her children. In the end it didn't seem to work out that way. As soon as she remarried, my sister was out of the house and so was I. I didn't blame her one bit. A person can be a person on the outside, but then be completely different on the inside. It was always the human condition that broke us down into pieces. You can be the strongest person in the world and be made of steel, but as soon as you start feeling with your heart, your strength can swiftly fall apart.

  "Cat got your tongue, kid?" Paul said as he rose himself from the bench, cigar almost spent.

  It was a plan changer for sure. I knew more than ever that my mother's life was in danger. I would have to think hard and good on how I would be able to escape.

  Paul leaned in and put the nearly spent cigar into my Palm, the singe from the burning cherry scorching my skin. He leaned in closer and spoke softly into my ear. "Enjoy the rest of this cigar. Oh and by the way, don't worry about your mom. She passed away nearly 2 years ago in a bad car accident."

  I swallowed the biggest brick down my throat in my entire life. I watched Paul Bishop slowly tilt and wobbly make his way out of the room. The cigar which was still lit and still placed into my palm, I closed my fingers and crushed it with my fist, feeling the burning. I took a very deep breath and began to shake uncontrollably. I exhaled through my tightly clenched teeth. As the door opened and Paige came in, I bolted to the nearest wall, the nearest innocent wall, easiest access. I began to punch it over and over again, screaming loudly and obliterating the tiles of the shower. Blood began to spasm from my balled up fists. Head butting and punching the wall, I lost myself. I was completely overwhelmed by anger and hate.

  As I felt Paige's arms around my waist, I barely heard the words that she spoke and in a crazed rage, I quickly turned and pushed her to the ground. I was a mad woman and it wasn't me inside my body, but I looked at her, bloody fist raised and ready to pulverize something else. Stricken with fear, she pulled the gun from her side and pointed it directly at my head. As her lips slowly moved, I still heard not one word, but tried desperately to calm down. I closed my eyes hard and rubbed them. As I slowly opened them, the redness of rage had finally disappeared.

  Gun still drawn, I fell to my knees in a weeping heap. Paige's arms were wrapped around me in an instant, wiping the bloody tears from my face. "What the hell did he say to you?"

  I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly. I wanted to feel her touch, feel her breath upon my skin, needed her to sooth me. I cried, frowned and shook my head. "Enough, he said enough."

  It was a tough task, frail, broken and in pieces. Paige managed to peel the blood soaked clothes from my body and get me into the shower. I stood a good while, underneath the warm streams of water. I let it flow into my mouth and swish out the old crispy blood. I closed my eyes and tried to keep calm, but I raised them slowly at sound of the door opening.

  Once again, another serpent from hell had surfaced. Michelle Bishop. She gave Paige a look. Without question, nor word, Paige obediently left the room. I wa
s left once again with the bloody siren known as Michelle Bishop.

  I removed myself from my stance of comfort and stood brightly and tall. I no longer cared about my modesty, nor hiding myself from the evil wicked woman. Eyes glaring, I prepared for what was to come.

  "Good show you put on, thanks for the head, by the way." She slowly walked up to me and touched her finger to my cheek.

  "Do as you wish, I am no longer afraid of you."

  She smiled and took her finger trailing it down my chin, down my neck and onto my chest. "Sad, you were more fun when you were scared." Her lips twitched at the edges.

  I didn't want to, but I could feel a heat and a need propelling from her body. The sensation sent a spiraling want throughout mine. For some reason, in my wicked state, I was craving her abuse. As I had a flashback and thought of her whipping my backside, I craved it. I slowly licked my lips as I wanted her to fulfill a newly implanted darker side to my soul. As it was just barely there, I pushed it away and spit in her face. "That get you off?" I asked.

  She took her fingers to her face and wiped away the saliva, licking it from her fingers with great pleasure. "Barely, thank you, but I would much rather be licking something else."

  In my mind, the switch had once again flipped. Though she was taller than I, my arm lunged and I grabbed her neck, nails digging. As I saw her eyes widen, she put her hand around my arm and curled her fingers around it. When I finally saw a hint of fear placed within her eyes, I spoke between my gritted teeth, my naked flesh, wet and dripping. "Three people are on my list. You are the third. When I relieve myself of my shackles, I shall come for you in the night. I shall strangle every last ounce of breath, evil breath which ignites your sad pathetic soul."

  Michelle Bishop relieved herself from my grip and took two steps back, trying still to play it cool. I saw the faint glimmer of fear twitching in the corner of her eye. "This is not over, my little warrior. This is not over." She said as she turned and went for the door.

  Satisfied with my placement of fear, I chimed back. "Wait for me love, for I shall send you into the darkness."

  I smiled as I watched her leave the room. My lips muttered, "burn in hell, you evil whore of Satan."

  The remainder of the night was dark and spent in silence. I was cleansed and cleaned. Paige and I sat quietly within the confines of the waiting room. All activities of hellish thoughts had finally left my mind. And even though I knew Paige wanted so desperately to seek comfort within my arms, she kept distant. She knew I wasn't the same person. I was grateful for her distance, for I did not want to harm her. I knew my mind was a mass, a chaotic explosion of falling blocks. I tried so desperately to keep Lillian close, but the Switchblade Mama continued to plague my mind.

  The night dragged on as we waited for the boys to return. It was the championship fight and pay was issued. I never knew what was to be on the other side of the fighter's dungeon, but I suspected and saw with my own eyes that it consisted of drinking and much bullshit talk.

  When boys finally returned, Paige and I were jerked from our slumber. I didn't care. I was tired and just wanted a warm bed to sleep in. At least the remainder of the morning was uneventful. I slept the rest of the way on the ride home, decapitated heads rolling around in my mind.