I turn around and I'm face to face with Rage. Literally the only living person on the planet who knows how to push every button I have by just existing. Also, she was the only hot chick on the planet who might as well not have a vagina because there was nothing about her that myself or little Preppy liked. NOTHING. "Oh my shit! Who invited Suzie Home-Killer to the party?" I asked outlaid. "Don't you have puppies to off or something, Rage? Should I hide the coyote so you don't stake it in the heart for shits and giggles?"
She pointed at me with her beer bottle. "For your information that fucking coyote loves me and so does Thia so behave yourself if you know how to. Oh, and I'm glad to see you ditched the ugly bow tie," she said, pointing to the collar of my t-shirt. "It was a dead trend."
I pursed my lips. "That's funny, especially when I'm pretty sure everyone you've ever met becomes a dead trend at some point."
She cocked her head to the side. "Well then I wouldn't stand too close if I were you," she said, taking a step forward.
I took a step toward her in challenge. "Doesn't bother me. Haven't you heard? I've already been dead."
She laughed and if you didn't know she was Satan anyone else would take it as a genuine laugh like I'd just told a funny joke. "That's right, I forgot to ask you," she made a show of clearing her throat. "Hey loser, do anything fucking stupid lately? You know, like getting captured and tortured? I mean, for the record I'm glad you're back from the dead by the way, if anything just so I can make fun of you for being stupid enough to get killed in the first place."
I scoffed. "Oh yeah? You think getting killed is stupid? I'm not the one who throws a fucking temper tantrum and all of a sudden a city block falls to the streets."
Rage rolled her eyes. "OMG it was like two buildings at the most."She paused. "That time." She smiles in a sly way that tells me that she's still proud of the work she's done.
"As pleasant as ever, Rage," I said, stepping back and taking a swig of my beer, searching the suddenly empty lawn for anyone to talk to other than Genghis Rage.
"Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed to see you amongst the living again," she said, buffing her french manicured nails on her hot pink t-shirt that read NO FUCKS GIVEN.
I looked at her right in her cold dead blue eyes. "Funny, I'm deliriously happy I'm alive but standing here right now, looking at you, it's the first time I'm kind of fucking wishing I was still dead too. You know, but not as dead as your soul."
She smiled wickedly. "I've always loved your compliments, Samuel," she sang whimsically, batting her lashes for a beat before returning the disapproving frown to her face.
"Almost as much as I love thinking about how they're going to cast your episode of "Making of a Serial Killer."
"If you want to be dead again just say the fucking word and it can be arranged," she spat, squaring her feet.
"You wanna go, bitch?" I said, jumping back on my heels and raising my fists like a boxer. "'Cause we can go right now."
"With pleasure," Rage said. She was about to set her beer down in the grass when a voice interrupted us.
"That's enough, kids," said a tall biker who put his arm around Rage. I waited for her to push him off and jump back into wanting to fight me mode but her entire demeanor softened at his touch and surprisingly she didn't even flinch.
"Oooooh. I see that Bomber Barbie has found herself a Ken?" I asked looking from Rage to the biker.
"Watch it," the guy warned, protectively standing in front of Rage who stood on her tiptoes and scowled over his shoulder before stepping out in front of him.
"It's good to see that Rage isn't dead inside like we'd thought for so long. Hi, I'm Preppy," I said extending my hand.
"Nolan," the man offered with a shake and a small smile that told me he was trying his hardest not to laugh. Another biker in a matching cut walks up and hands Nolan a beer, he puts his arms over his shoulder and they huddle together, whispering what my guess would be about stupid biker bitch shit.
"Speaking of people who's souls you murder, where's Smoke?" I asked. Smoke was her mentor and a fuck of a tracker. I was only asking because I'd already heard that he'd left town for good and it was in some way her fault although I didn't know all the details.
She shrugged and the angry V lines in her forehead straightened out. "Got no clue these days," she said, putting her hands in her back pockets and rocking back on her heels.
"Hopefully far a fucking way," Nolan said through his gnashed teeth, chiming in over his shoulder.
"Nolan," she warned, taking a much softer tone I'd ever heard her use before but Nolan was already back to his conversation with the other biker.
"O.M.G. You're dick whipped! I whispered, pointing to Nolan. Aren't you? Wow, this is fucking amazing. Tell me, was it his cock or the fact that he doesn't murder babies in their sleep that made you go from Ted Bundy to Teddy Bear? Tell me, are you planning on doing that whole black widow thing where you get close to them before slitting their throats in their sleep one by one? Cause I'm not gonna lie, that's a pretty cool fucking plan."
"I'm not a character in a comic book, asshole. And I don't kill babies," she snarled. "And I don't kill anyone in their sleep. That's just...rude."
I shrugged and took another sip of my beer. "Whatever you tell yourself so you can sleep at night. Or wait, DO YOU sleep now or are you still hanging from the ceiling like a fucking bat?"
Rage glared at me without answering but the glare said it all. If looks could kill. Well, they didn't need to because SHE could kill.
I reached in my pocket for my smokes and lit one. Rage made a show of waving the smoke out of her face although it was nowhere near her. "You do sleep? Wow, it's like I don't even know you anymore. Tell me, what are the other main differences between the raging bitch you were and the raging bitch you've become?" I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned in like I couldn't wait to hear her answer.
"Fuck off, Preppy."
"Oh come on, Rage. You can do better than that. I mean it's just so nice to see that you've settled down and with a BIKER no less. I really had no idea that you were home knitting scarves and planning babies. I apologize for everything I've said, Rage," I offered, raising my hands in mock surrender. She flipped me off. "It's totally cool that you're barefoot in the kitchen. Feminism is for the birds and all that. Oh shit, does this mean you're gonna be the soccer mom?"
"What about you?" she asked, pointing to the kids running around in the yard. "Doesn't exactly look like you're all alone here."
"Yeah, well, still feels like I am," I muttered, offering that bit of truth since we were all being honest with our hatred and all.
"I know all too well what you mean," she said, looking up to Nolan who was still deep in conversation.
"Did we just agree on something?" I asked with a shake of my head and a tinge of disgust in my voice. "Listen, the universe is already fucked up. We don't need this kind of karma in our lives."
"No, we did not agree on anything," she argued. "I was just saying how fucking boring your life is and then I wanted to add how shitty you look after a few months of mild torture." She leaned in and whispered. "I bet you screamed like a bitch," she pulled back and took a sip of her beer.
A part of me. A part deep DEEP down part of me liked that Rage had no filter and said whatever was on her mind. It was refreshing in a way because everyone else seemed to be walking on fucking eggshells around me and in a way Rage was right. It was getting really fucking boring.
"Is that what Nolan does?" I asked with a wink. "Does he make you scream like a bitch or do you just pull out your cock and compare who's is bigger?"
I could hear her audibly growl and then sigh heavily. "Well, Preppy, it's been real. Until we're forced together in the same social situation again, which hopefully isn't any fucking time soon," she said clinking the neck of her beer to mine with a fake smile plastered on her face that dropped before she even turned back around. She stomped passed Nolan, catching his attention, his head spinning in her direction while she muttered, "Pussy, can't take torture like a fucking man."
I responded with a muttering of my own, "Aeropostale Assassin."
"You know," I said to Nolan whose buddy had just walked off toward the house. "Sometimes I think the reason she's so hot is because of that flaming poker shoved up her ass."
Surprisingly, Nolan chuckled instead of punching me in the face as he watched Rage stalk off, his focus primarily on her swaying ass. "Hot. Yeah, she most definitely is," he said, biting his bottom lip and rocking his weight from one leg to the other. "I ummmm... I gotta go..." his words trailed off as he chased after Rage who I'm sure was on her way toward whatever circle of hell she usually crawled into to seek solace from her bruised ego.