On the Lam (Wistful Beast and Vermiciro)

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The most Judith had ever seen of cows was in steak and movies, a poor history to draw from for imagery, but she was down for a story about Bessie being lead home by a scarlet haired maiden of humble origins. Where other princesses had striking mares and petite ponies, Judith's had heifers with swollen teats. Sounded about right.

"Oh, please do tell." she said sardonically. "Regale me with your bovine adventures of milk and cheese." and Judith pause a moment to consider the scenario of cows in a road. "Or hamburger. Whatever. Tell me about your cows."
 
Callie suddenly felt embarrassed to have ever suggested this story, but it was usually a crowd pleaser when delivered to others. Now that Callie had been thinking about it, maybe they had only found it amusing because she had been some lame little girl that had the job of dealing with something like cattle. Well, she had already announced that as her decisions, so she'd have to follow through and just disregard Judith's remarks.

After clearing her throat politely, Callie began her story. "Well, I was about 12 years old at the time. I had woken up a pounding on my door and had opened it to see that my father and mother were there. My mother looked worried as usual, and my father just looked pretty pissed off. They told me that a few of our milk cows had escaped due to a break in the fence. Then they said that since they were busy, I had to try to get them back. My father was never the type to accept disobedience, so I was quick to pull on more suitable clothing for running about before setting off outside towards the nearby town. I was almost there when I saw the first one, an old girl named- never mind her name actually." She paused, deciding not to reveal the cow's name.

The cow's name was Call, named for it having been Callie's friend when she was little. Callie knew Judith would only mock her for this, so she kept that detail unsaid. Continuing she said, "Anyways, I managed to get her back before going out for the others. These ones had made it into town and people had been eying them warily and even taking pictures of them with their phones. I had to run up to the group of cows milling about in the middle of the road and try to convince them to move. Cars were beginning to collect and the people inside were growing impatient of the living road blocks. So here I was, a little girl at the time, yelling at a bunch of cows while people looked on."
 
Expected was an insipid, banal story of rustic fauna, something dull that would easily drone and blend with the music already playing. It had been carrying out as such until Judith became caught on a detail. Callie purposefully neglected to name a cow that she was about to address by name. Even in her taxed and somnolent state, Judith couldn't let that pass. As Callie told on, Judith was still hung up on that detail to the point of missing where the story was going.

When Callie paused naturally, she interrupted. "Hold on, back the fuck up." Judith splayed her hands in emphasis. "Old McDonald had a cow named what? Why lead me on like that and then leave me hanging? We ain't close enough for teasin'." It wasn't the cow's name that was important, Judith couldn't give a fuck what it was called, but that Callie was withholding details was aggravating. It was something she wasn't about to drop.
 
Callie stopped mid story when Judith voiced her dissent towards Callie leaving out that little detail. She didn't think it to be important enough for the woman to request her to reveal it, but then again Callie still knew little about Judith. It seemed Judith really didn't want any detail to be withheld, which Callie could probbaly admire to some degree since she could be a bit nosy at times too. However, Callie was still embarrassed about revealing the cow's name, which warrant a short explanation. Callie didn't want Judith to believe her to be some idiot who grew up befriending cows, but this course was inevitable now.

"The cow's name was Cal. My father named her that because that cow liked to follow me around like a shadow and...keep my company I guess."Callie replied. She was quick to return to her story and save herself from the embarrassment of pausing for an expected laugh or other reaction. "Anyways, I had to usher all of the cows down the public road with cars creeping up behind me. It was pretty aggravating since cows are pretty stubborn and people can get grumpy when they are unable to continue about their lives. Overall, it wasn't too convenient to herd a whole bunch of cows in a more urban environment."she finished off.Callie had more details and such, but she decided Judith wouldn't give a shit anyways and Callie didn't want to continue with that story.
 
Nodding curtly in understanding, a sardonic grin slanting her lips, Judith accepted the name. Some kids had dogs, other had cows. Though she couldn't recall even the most derisive of father's she had met ever naming the family dog after their progeny. Then again, if you had over ten dogs that all resembled the one next to it maybe names weren't that important, being based more on behavior than... whatever people normally named animals for. Judith didn't even know why her mother had named her what she did. She didn't even call her by it most of the time.

Judith rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes before closing them, resigned to taking a nap, decent bedtime stories or not. "So, no more cow stories?" she quipped, though was actually glad to move past bovine excursions. "Why don't you make one up. Spin a yarn, yeah?" Judith suggested. "That'd be easier on y', I'm sure."
 
Callie ignored Judith's grin, knowing it was present even without looking. She could just feel it, that mocking smile aimed in her direction. Callie was already in a poor mood thanks to her current predicament and didn't want to further spoil it by being mocked for her lame childhood story. The last thing she wanted to do was share stories with this woman, especially since she had watched the same woman just previously murder a man in cold blood without batting an eyelash. Bitter feelings or not, Callie was fully aware that she would be stuck with Judith for a while so she'd do her best to be polite.

"No more cow stories."Callie confirmed with a light sigh. A pang of longing struck her again as she thought of being back with her family. She could only imagine the peaceful and familiar noises of the farm she'd hear if she were perched upon her favorite seat on the front porch. She would have been reading a book or idly talking to her mother, most likely going back and forth between Greek to English. Gringlish, as Callie's father liked to call the mix. The memory was appealing and so very out of reach.

Now the sound of indie music and the faint whirring of the tires upon asphalt filled her ears and she was not in the company of family, let alone someone who knew a lick of Greek. Pulled back to the present, Callie said, "Make one up? I don't believe that I am the best story teller."
 
"You don't have to be." Judith assured, heels on the dash and legs bent as she hunkered as deep into the seat as she could. "What makes a good story teller is voice, not the actual story or shit." humility and a decent sense of humor for the mundane inconveniences people face in daily life was also helpful, or so Judith found. Bars, back alley dice games, the bus stop, there were plenty of places for exchanging stories. It was how Judith learned to communicate, and how she picked up other women. The most banal rot could be made catching if given the right tone, cadence, and pops of emphasis. Humility made it relatable.

"If you can't think of something off the top of your head then just embellish a real story a bit." she suggested. "Y'know, like change the names and add in the shit you would have done, but didn't get the chance to."
 
Callie noticed out of the corner of her eye that Judith had situated herself differently, suggesting she was to sleep now. Callie certainly didn't mind this development, wanting some peace for a while. She had a feeling that peace would be sort of difficult to come by now. Callie had never been the greatest story teller, but she had a love for literature so she figured that she could potentially figure something out. She wasn't keen on making up a story out of the blue, but Judith had mentioned that she was allowed to just adjust an already existing story to her liking. That was more possible than creating one, so Callie asked, "Alright...let's see...What about a classic or something?"

She searched her mind for an answer, trying to find an older and more well known tale. Maybe a children's story would do as a basis. She suddenly had an idea. "How about I tell you the story of Little Red Riding Hood, but made modern?"she offered, though she was going to tell it whether Judith wanted to hear it or not. The woman didn't seem to be too particular now, seeming to just want something to occupy herself as she fell asleep.

Callie took a short moment to think before beginning her story, "There once was a little girl from a big city. Most called her Red or little red since the 10 year old girl was rarely without her red hooded sweatshirt. Once a week, Little Red would travel to her grandmother's house that was located on the other side of the city. Her parents had never really been present in her life, so she was to travel on her own through the concrete jungle. Now this city wasn't fit for a little girl. Crime wasn't uncommon and felons were prevalent. One such felon was Wolf, a well known gang member."

"Now Wolf was a mean man. He was in his late twenties and stood at about six feet tall, skin covered in tattoos and hair all shaved off save for a rough looking beard that adorned his jawline. One time when Red was heading off to visit her grandmother, she was stopped by Wolf. Wolf said that Red would make a tasty treat..."she paused, wondering how dark this story should be. She knew Judith had probably seen and heard much worse, so Callie decided to take the liberty to tell the story as she wished it to be.

"Then he proceeded to pull a knife on the girl. Red was quick to run off, but unknown to her, Wolf followed. Wolf figured out from locals that she was heading to her grandmother who lived in an apartment across town. Wolf drove there and arrived first, going to the respective room finding the grandmother. He held her hostage until Red came in to find the older woman with a knife to her throat."Callie said, looking up in thought.

Callie knew that the usual classic had a lumber jack murder the wolf, so she had to adapt that to modern times. continuing, Callie said, "Suddenly a police officer entered after hearing a disturbance. He was officer Jack Lumber and wasted little time in shooting Wolf. So Red and her grandmother were now saved from Wolf....The End."

Callie may have had a bit of help when coming up with the story. Unbeknownst to Judith, Callie had a similar experience at an older age with a few changes. She had been confronted by and harassed by a gang member shortly after moving to the city. This had ended when a police officer had shot the man for pulling a weapon on him, but Callie had only heard the shot. Callie had hoped that this story was satisfactory enough to get Judith off of her back.
 
Though Judith found being told a children's story patronizing, she hadn't the energy for indignation or complaint. If she woke with the same feeling then Callie could expect another bruise or cruel jest in compensation, but sleep could placate even the most vexing monomania, Judith's anger included. So gradual then sudden, she slipped beneath the black velvet of unconsciousness. The pluck of strings and Callie's timbre distantly faded as Judith was enveloped in the arms of Morpheus.

Like the plunk of pennies into a well, words filtered through, spiraling into form and shape. A drop of red color wended into a cloud of wolves, a carnivorous fog rolling along intermittent silt and macadam. A kaleidoscope of tattoo lace sprang forth into mutinous briers. The road turned devious, a treacherous zagging of turns and macabre misfortune. Judith's feet were bleeding. Her hands were blotched with watercolor-stains of carnelian, spider lilies blossoming on her skin.

Howls like the trumpets of war echoed near. Like the beat of drums, of a heart near arrest, the wolf pack came for her with a thunder of multitudinous paws. Maws wide with glittering, saliva glossed teeth and tongues, they fell upon her as a wave. A nebulous prickling and chill engulfed her. The howling escalated to shrill wind and sirens.

Judith awoke suddenly, goose fleshed and slick with a feverish sweat. It didn't feel like she'd slept, only closed her eyes for a moment, but the sun was lower. Orange light glared between passing trees, columns penetrated the car windows as blinding shafts. Judith couldn't remember when she'd fallen asleep.

"How long've I been out?" she dare asked, squinting over the dash for any road signs.
 
Callie finished up her story and looked over to find that Judith had managed to fall asleep. Callie released a soft sigh, relaxing a bit and allowing herself to take a more loose posture. Her narrow shoulders dropped in a defeated manner, facial expression drained of what little energy it had possessed. Her green eyes looked withdrawn and troubled, her fingers drumming lazily upon the steering wheel. Now only the light sound of music occupied the space, Judith's quiet breathing adding to the mix.

Callie finally allowed herself to display weakness. She hadn't know how she had managed to compose herself through out the past day as well as the current one. Tears began to blur Callie's vision until she had to free a hand from the wheel to wipe them away. Callie sniffled quietly, watching as different sections of the well weathered road disappeared under the car's tires. Her melancholy musings returning to torment her mind. Again, the image of her parents watching the news and discovering out her assumed deed returned to her. She could see her father flipping through a book in his favorite recliner until he lifted his gaze to the flickering screen to spot a familiar young woman. His usually stoic expression would drop and he'd beckon his wife in the Greek tongue.

Then she'd set down her knitting and approach the television, smoothing out her long skirt. Finally she'd see the figure on the screen as well, taking a moment to blink a few times in the hope that this wasn't real or that the red haired woman belonged to someone else. Then realization would settle in, taking a hold of the two of them. Most likely her father would be speechless and just stare vacantly at the screen as the word, "murder," hung under the picture of his brightly smiling daughter. Then her mother would probably drop to her knees and begin to cry. Callie could almost hear her mother's sobbing. Then she realized that the sobbing was her own.

Breaking away from her day dream, she felt hot tears run down her cheeks as her breath hitched within the confines of her throat. Choking, she took a few deep breaths, struggling for air. She tried to focus on the road as an anxiety attack overtook her system. Her stomach churned, palms growing sweaty as she gasped. She caught her breath again, stealing in air hungrily. Her sobbing subsided to quiet crying before disappearing entirely. Callie wiped the evidence of tears from her face and idly continued driving, mood somber.

After quite some time, she heard Judith rouse and speak. Without daring to look to Judith and reveal any traces of her break down, she glanced at the clock. "About an hour or two."she answered, managing a clear voice. She drew in a sniffle and tried to play it off by quietly clearing her throat.
 
Somnolent and sleep-stiff, Judith wasn't in any hurry to adjust to her surroundings. Her feet were asleep on the dash, tingling pin pricks and static. Careful to mind the scattering of sauce packets, Judith dared to stretch her legs, knees popping in both relief and protest. Along the folds of her stomach, and saturating her hairline, was sweat. Even in her dreams she was perspiring from either fear or exertion. Rest came at a price, but perhaps discomfort was cheap when compared to incarceration. Though if they were apprehended, Judith wasn't guaranteed life imprisonment. Nebraska didn't have a death penalty, but South Dakota did, and the kid in the trunk was as good as a noose.

After hours on repeat, Judith finally took the CD out and tossed it on the dash. She'd had enough music. Iniquity lay in wait ahead and it was time she entertained those gnawing thoughts from earlier. Judith glanced lazily to Callie, noting what she believed to be stress from driving in the contours of her partner's features. Judith's feet were still half-asleep. She needed to walk and figured Callie could use a stretch as well. It wasn't night, still hours to burn before black skies, but Judith felt they were still in the clear. People usually weren't considered missing until at least 24 hours had passed.

"Pull into the next motel or inn you see." Judith directed. "You look like shit. I'm sure we're due for a bit of a stretch too."
 
Callie was trying to act inconspicuous in regards to hiding the fact that she had been previously sobbing. Luckily time had gone to work on her features and had diminished almost all signs of her out burst. All of the evidence that was left were slightly red eyes that could probably be observed as the need for sleep, though Callie was far from drowsy thanks to the bothersome thoughts and ideas that were fluttering about madly within he mind. She was thankful for the discarding of the CD that she had been listening to for the whole duration of their drive. The quiet that followed provided some relief.

Callie was happy to hear that they were to find an inn or motel now, eager to get out of this car for at least a little while. The comment about her appearance probably held some truth, but she still didn't appreciate it. "Thanks."she offered sarcastically, though she did actually agree with the notion of stopping to rest.

Callie paid closer attention to the signs on the side of the road, searching for any indication of an inn or motel. After a few minutes a sign revealed that at the next exit there was a motel. It was called, Sleep Easy Motel. Callie had a feeling that the name was only ironic now, considering her current predicament she was not likely to sleep very easily. She pulled off onto the exit ramp and left the freeway, adjusting to the much slower speed that the more residential roads required. Soon an old white building came into view, revealing two floors with wooden doors at certain intervals. The doors were marked with specific numbers. If these observations weren't obvious enough to indicate the proper motel, a half crooked light up sign protruded from the ground out from and read,"Sleep Easy Motel."

The place seemed a bit run down. It sure wasn't the Hampton's, but it wasn't completely sketchy and seemed to have a few cars in the parking lot that indicated at least a few people had made the choice of residing for the night. Sure these people may have been employees, drug dealers, or both, but it was better than an attic and a bit more legal. Callie proceeded to pull into the parking lot and park the car in one of the spaces located around the back of the motel so that the vehicle couldn't be seen from the road.
 
They were going to murder what ever guests they encountered and steal their vehicle, that was inexorable fact. They would raise the body count one way or another in the next hour, either stacked with their corpses or their victim's. Judith couldn't foresee any other means of attaining a car that wouldn't be on police radar within days. The guests were people already on the move. Their disappearance wouldn't be as conspicuous, and it meant neither Judith nor Callie would have to risk meeting the worker at the front desk. No money spent on rooms, no pseudonyms, no bullshit. Just a dead boy left to rot in a tin can of a van under a cloudless summer heatwave. With any luck, no one would be able to guess which guests they left with.

Watching the doors pass, Judith took note of those with lights on. There were two on the ground level, ideal since she had no intention of dragging dead weight down a flight of stairs. She'd have Callie chose. Eenie meenie miny moe, which one's blood is gonna flow? If she couldn't get Callie to kill then she'd at least pin half of the guilt to her. But Judith had no inclination of sparring her partner from bloodshed. If they were ever to get caught, she swore she'd take Callie down with her. They were together, for better and worse, until Canadian wild sprawled wide between them and the States.

Judith would see them bound by forces greater than law, love or fate. They'd be wed by murder.

"You realize we're not renting a room." Judith spoke suddenly, meeting Callie's gaze as she did. "I'm gonna bust the lock on one and we're going to rob those people." she explained circumlocutory, certain to avoid mention of killing. "We can't be seen by the manager, or workers, and we need a new car. You got that? Now pick a number. We'll get the bags after things have settled."
 
All Callie yearned to do right about now was to get to their room and rest a while. She wanted a small break from chaos and stress, though she knew damn well that stress would follow her wherever she went. No matter that fact, she believed that it could at least alleviate some tension. Then again, being confined to a room would make her feel sort of vulnerable. Then again, it would be much preferable over hiding in someone's attic again.

Callie's almost hopeful mood was diminished as soon as Judith revealed that they were to assault more innocent people. She met Judith's gaze as well, eyes widening and mouth parting slightly as if she were about to protest. She was definitely not keen on having to watch Judith take more people now. Though Callie had the nagging suspicion that she couldn't avoid partaking in the violence forever. there may come a time in their northern journey that helping was the only way to prevent their imminent arrest or even deaths. Callie opened her mouth again before closing it, seeming conflicted.

Defeated, she allowed her shoulders to slump forwards. "Fine. I'll choose."she said. With that said, Callie shut the car off and opened the door. Exiting quietly, she took caution when closing the door again. Looking around, she spotted the two rooms that had their lights on. The bottom floor was the best bet, as they didn't have to make the trek slower by climbing up and down stairs. She spotted their numbers, a number one marking one door and a number five marking another. Five was furthest away from the lobby area and out of sight from the general public, making it more than ideal.

"Number five."she whispered in Judith's direction. Judith was currently wearing the slightly bloodied sweatshirt Callie had been previously wearing, so her red hair was currently exposed. She could only hope that the setting sun made it appear darker and less noticeable.
 
There was little physical preparation that Judith made before leaving the van. With a click, she locked the blade of her pocket knife open and slipped it into the pouch of her hoodie for easier access. From Callie's suitcase she produced the roll of duct tape and threaded it onto her wrist like a chunky, bakelite bangle. With the gun still in the waist of her jeans, the three objects were all she would need to assure their stay at Sleep Easy. She didn't bother to shut her door as quietly and thankfully it didn't seem to draw attention.

Following Callie, she looked to the room her partner had chosen. Number 5, the number of human senses, of points on a pentagram, and of temptation. It was oddly fitting knowing the visceral experience that lay beyond the door. There would be no turning back. No more Thelma and Louise , good people doing wrong. Judith was certain that behind door number five was something a jury wouldn't justify with survival, was something that would either pull her and Callie together or drive them apart. Because it wasn't just murder, they were going to make someone disappear completely.

"Hold this." Judith instructed, tossing Callie the roll of tape. She stood in front of the door and took a deep breath. It did little to focus her equanimity. Despite her conviction and perpetual moral decay, Judith was human. Her nerves were strung taut, a violin trill trembling along them. She didn't know what she would walk in on. She didn't even know if she'd leave the motel alive, but Judith swallowed her trepidation. There wasn't time for turning back. No hesitation.

Judith drew the glock. Firmly planting her left heel into the concrete walkway, she slammed the heel of her right beside the door knob, throwing her weight behind it and leaning in. Something cracked, but the door remained closed. There was shouting inside. Judith repeated the action.

And it flung open, splinters and paint flecks fluttering like confetti in its wake.

A couple was inside, or more precisely, a prostitute and her John. She straddled him on the bed, both naked except a thigh-high pair of boots on the woman. The prostitute appeared terrified, the man irate, inimical at best. He was shouting profanity and curses while maintaining his grip on the woman's hips. Had he not she would have likely ran.

Judith raised the pistol. "Shut the fuck up and keep your hands where I can see them." she demanded, stepping into the room. "This is a robbery, cooperate and I don't pop a cap in your ass." a threat she wasn't keen to act on. Though she planned to murder them, Judith knew the gun would alert everyone in the vicinity if it fired. She had to get them restrained or risked a brawl and possible detection.
 
Callie suddenly remembered something important and risked reopening and closing the door. Now held firmly in her right hand was the kitchen knife she had snaged from earlier. She had little intent to use it, but it they were going to try to detain or threaten someone she wasn't goung to show up empty handed. Threats could go a long way considering they'd never know if Callie was intending to slit their throats or not or if she was skilled with a weapon.

Callie followed after Judith, making sure her foot steps fell lightly upon the asphalt. Her muscles began to quake ever so slightly due to her mounting apprehension. Each step forwards brought her closer to the room. Each step closed the distance between her and the unsuspecting motel goers that were about to be robbed.

Upon reaching the door or room number 5, Callie drew in a sharp breath and held her knife tigher. The blade was pressed lightly against her thigh to be more inconspicuous. She observed Judith warily, catching the tape tossed at her and holding it in her free hand. Judith had thrown herself against the door, eliciting shouting from inside. Callie was half tempted to turn tail and run. She restrained her desire, forcing herself to stayand see through with the over taking of the motel room.

Callie wasn't prepared for the sight inside. She flushed red, averting her gaze. She took a step inside of the room anyways to remain out of sight, closing the now partially damaged door. She made herself look back to see the prostitute and the man that had swore at them. Callie remembered her knife and held it up, though it was just as threatening as a kitten wielding a thumb tack considering her uncomfortable expression. She stayed near Judith's side though, awaiting any orders.
 
All things considered, their situation could have been exponentially worse. That wasn't to say Judith and her partner had entered into a game of child's play. It was an acknowledgement that despite walking in on clandestine, illegal affairs, they hadn't been shot or even challenged with weapons. They had the upper hand, but it was an advantage that could easily slip away from them.

Judith hadn't been expecting a pair of guests, or to be exact, she had been hoping for a single guest. Though their numbers were even, two to two, Judith felt it was more accurate to assume it was one on two. The prostitute would likely bolt if given the chance and the man didn't appear intimidated, more inclined to react with violence. She doubted Callie would be able to apprehend the absconding woman or assault the customer. Her accomplice was about as useful as dead wood, an object that's best use was to be placed between things, a paltry barrier.

They needed to even the odds.

Gesturing to Callie with a jerk of her head, Judith ordered, "Toss Jolene the duct tape." The prostitute appeared terrified by whatever unknown was about to be asked of her. Meanwhile, her customer was still spitting irate maledictions and threatening to get off the bed. "Tape his wrists and ankles or you won't leave here alive." Judith demanded of the hooker.

The woman balked, tentative and choking on words of dissent. She began to tremble, an absolute fear-inertia setting in. Under the gun, the prostitute was about as capable as Callie. A shame, it was the man Judith wanted inactive, not the woman. She didn't want to risk herself or Callie to get close to him. He could easily overtake either of them if he got a decent hold. Judith's plan was unraveling.

"Just fucking tie him up!" she shouted, aggressively approaching the prostitute, angling the muzzle of the gun at the woman's temple in threat. That was when he moved, faster than anything over two hundred pounds should ever fucking move. Shoving the prostitute aside as he did, the John's hand gripped vice-tight around Judith's wrist and jerked her off balance.
 
Callie stayed close to Judith's side, trying to act somewhat present in this dangerous situation. She knew well that the man had the muscle, size, and bravery to be able to take either of them down. Hell, he could take them both down if he so much as pleased. If Judith wasn't carrying a gun, Callie would have probably run away from the man since they'd be harmless against him. Callie's breathing became more shallow, her widened eyes fixated on the man who was still holding onto the mostly naked prostitute. Callie would have never predicted that this would be the two they stumbled upon.

Callie was quick to obey Judith, tossing the frightened prostitute the duct tape. Callie looked back and forth from the very frightened prostitute and the man who was saying very nasty and angry things. The last thing Callie wanted was for that man to get up off of the bed and become a threat. Even if Callie shot him, the noise would draw too much attention and they'd have to book it.

Callie stayed back when Judith had approached the prostitute,silently pitying the woman under the gun. Sure she was a prostitute, but that didn't mean that she wasn't an innocent human that could be murdered any second. Callie could almost feel the woman's crippling fear as the gun was brought to her temples. Suddenly the man was up in a flash and had grabbed Judith. Callie flinched backwards, watching as the man tried to take Judith down or at least get the gun away. If he got the gun it was game over since they would either be murdered on the spot or held in place until the cops came to get them. Callie was frozen, unsure of what to do. If she didn't do anything, Judith may be killed. That would leave her stranded here with an angry armed man and a prostitute in a sketchy motel. Callie didn't think Judith could get out of that hold easily so she knew she had to act.

Taking a deep breath, Callie didn't know what came over her. Lunging quickly, she buried her kitchen knife into the man's thigh with an angry jab that was fueled by her adrenaline. She pulled out quickly before pushing it in again and again until blood began to splatter onto her shoes. Callie finally backed up, breathing heavy and hair hanging disheveled and hanging within her face. Reality set in when she looked at the bloodied knife in her hand. Yelping, she dropped it and wiped the blood off of her hand, panicked.
 
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As the man grabbed her wrist, Judith fell hard on her right knee, barely catching herself on the side of the bed to prevent being pulled into the John's center of control. The glock hadn't fired, but aimed uselessly at the ceiling above. A toy cast aside, the prostitute slid from the bed to an awkward pile of spilled hair and angles. It was over, she'd fucked up. Judith had fucked up and was going to be put down like the stray she was, at the hands of a half-erect man built like a brick wall.

Then blood, like catching the whiplash of a dog's drool, splattered hot against her neck. Judith froze, eyes widened with raw incredulity of what came down nearly inches from her shoulder. Callie had driven the purloined cutlery of earlier into the John's thigh. But an impulsive stab was hardly worthy of Judith's nonplussed reaction. Extracting the blade and plunging it in, repeating the act until red flowed freely, that was deserving of a state near catatonia.

Electric white screaming lacerated the air. The John wasn't howling in pain, nor shouting curses. He was shrieking as the sheets sprung alive with a garden of water-color poppies and roses, blossoms stretching for the mattress verges. Callie had struck carnelian gold. She'd tapped a fucking vein with the precision of exploding buckshot. She'd punched his thigh full of holes and somehow managed to hit his femoral artery. Judith figured either she or Callie must have been blessed or lady luck incarnate.

The John had tried to take the gun, but Judith's shell-shocked grip held tight. In a final attempt he slumped forward, off the bed and nearly onto Judith, but his legs gave out beneath him. His dead-weight fell to the floor where he slowly bled out, his erratic breathe ceasing once and for all.

Sobbing, like a child cowering from an abusive parent. It was the first thing that came to Judith's senses as the world fell back into place. There was so much blood. The prostitute had folded herself into a corner and was crying. Judith didn't know what to do with her. The only certainty was that their major threat had been neutralized.
 
Callie dropped to her knees, mouth agape in an expression of complete and utter shock. She watched as crimson seeped from the various angry stab wounds that dotted the naked man's pale flesh. Callie was too stunned to move, too taken aback to breath until she realized she was choking. Gasping, she sucked in a sharp breath as hot tears began to stream down her cheeks before she even knew that they had formed. The white sheets took on a more grim color, the man's life blood having poured over the fabric.

Callie's heart was thrumming wildly within her chest. She had stabbed a man. Many times actually. Callie didn't think she had the guts to ever wound someone like that on purpose, let alone repeat the brutal deed until she had even severed a main artery. Callie threaded her hands into her hair, gripping tightly in a feeble attempt to center herself. She was unable to take her eyes off of the man that was now writhing in pain, though his efforts were becoming weaker by the second as blood didn't cease to flow.

Callie silently watch as the man's body went limp and his breathing was no more, rendering him as deceased. Callie had done the unthinkable. She had murdered a man in cold blood, which made her no worse than Judith. Murderer. The word seemed to echo within her mind, adrenaline coursing through her veins. "God have mercy, God have mercy, God have mercy..."Callie muttered frantically to herself.

Looking to Judith with a terror struck facial expression, Callie softly cried, "I..I just k...killed a man..." She didn't bother to wipe away the tears upon her face, her green eyes glassy and distant.
 
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