Emerge 7

==========

Off Camera

==========

The alleyway was straight like a drinking straw and almost as narrow; this is a place Kimberly has frequented in the past several months, ever since she gained the clean bill of mental health from her psychiatrist.  This place, this alleyway, is a place of solitude where Kimberly Williams can stay to herself and fight the inner demons that wish to regain control, where she can fight the darkness and sociopathic urges that seek to regain control of her life.

Kimberly used to joke that it wasn't a place to go walking after a big meal. The sounds of the roads on either side ricocheted from one side to the other and light from the unguarded apartment windows would reflect from the dark brick walls.  This is the underworld of any town: gloomy and unpleasant.  It is Boston’s underworld and that is why Kimberly appreciates this place so much; it represents who she used to be and who she is trying to tame.

Taming the darkness and keeping her sociopathic self in check may not be the wisest of ideas right now.  In fact, Kimberly is torn as to whether she should fight off the urges or unleash them for one last hurrah, one final race, so to speak. Why would Kimberly Williams, a woman once thought to be unstable and who has fought so hard to be good and to rid herself of that darkness, just throw it all away and risk getting caught up in her madness again?

One reason: Mika Kozlov.

Mika Kozlov is the “dastardly villain” behind the attack on Peyton Rice, the one who dropped her on the head with a pile driver, hoping not only to injure her but also to get Vanilla Skyy fired as General Manager of Emerge.  Funny thing is, Kimberly views Mika as a kindred spirit.  A part of Kimberly applauded Mika’s ingenuity and ruthless cunning in perpetrating the act.  It is a plan that Kimberly would’ve come up with herself back in the day before her psychiatric sessions tamed her.

Unfortunately having her sadism tamed came with a price and that price was developing a conscience.  Kimberly felt guilt and shame while watching Peyton Rice get pile driven by Mika Kozlov.  Kimberly blamed herself for not intervening quickly enough, not that there was much she could’ve done anyway.

Now Kim has a chance to redeem herself.  Kim has a chance to work off some of that guilt, because she is taking on Mika Kozlov one on one on the next edition of Emerge.  You might think Kimberly would’ve been ecstatic over such an opportunity, but this opportunity has her torn.  She knows she can easily hang in there with Mika.  She knows she can match her move for move, hold for hold, and even blood for blood, violence for violence; but to do that she knows that she will have to reach down back into the darkness.  She realizes she will have to embrace the monster once again.

Kimberly isn’t sure how many times she can embrace the monster and still come back from it.

The vines that crawl up window sills and the crumbling plaster that envelope the old stone bricks appear romantic at first but become daunting as the sun sets behind the skyline of chimneys. Darkness is lurking in every corner inside the labyrinth of narrow passages and dead ends. Litter is dumped on the street and birds nest amongst the sprawling rot.

Kimberly sits down alone in the alleyway.  She is dressed far more modestly and ladylike than she usually is.  The Woman Scorned is wearing an ankle length floral print maxi skirt, sandals, and a silk floral blouse.  Her long red hair hangs unrestrained to shoulder length.  Dressed like this, there is no way of telling her apart from her identical twin sister Marie.

“Kimberly…” the voice trails off but Kimberly hears him.  She turns to spot her boyfriend (or companion as he prefers to think of himself) John Ortiz approaching her ever so slowly with a bottle of Budweiser in his hand.  A stoic gaze is etched across the handsome sociopath’s face.  Unlike Kimberly he has no qualms about who and what he is.  He embraces his darkness whereas Kimberly is torn about hers.

“Kimberly,” John repeats as he gets up face to face with her “are you ready?  From my observations and from what your sister has mentioned about him, Mr. Toole tends to be on time.  So he should be here any moment now.”

“Yeah, I know.” Kimberly remarks, nodding her head. “And I am ready.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs her shoulders.

“Then you are not ready.” John pokes her in the chest. “You set this up, Kimberly.  I did not.  Meeting up with Damian Toole one more time while posing as your sister was your idea.  What did you expect to get out of this?”

“I just want to help Marie.  That’s all.”

“And how do you plan to do that?”

“I have no clue, Johnny.  A part of me admired what Marie did to him the other week, she stood up to him and told him off.  She was brave, Johnny.  She was brave because she didn’t have to resort to violence.  I want to be that brave.  But I…”

“You’re not sure that you are capable of that kind of action, are you?” He chuckles. “Funny, the last time you mimicked Marie it was to help her, now you mimic Marie for your own selfish reasons, because you want to see if you can be as good as her.”

Tears start to form in her eyes as she nods her head. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“It is quite amusing to witness a former sociopath deal with having a conscience.  It must be quite challenging.”

“You have no idea!”

“Your consciousness is at war with itself.  This new conscience specifically is at war with your animalistic instincts that you’ve known for so long.  If you want my advice, my dear, if you really want to be more like your sister and learn how to deal with having a conscience, then perhaps you should exercise some of those violent tendencies instead of keeping them all bottled up?”

He plants a kiss on her cheek before slowly walking away back into the darkness.  Kimberly watches him walk away, disappearing into the darkness, but knowing he is still watching from afar.  She ponders his words, his advice.  She doesn’t agree with them.  She is certain that there is a better way.  She is certain that she can be as brave as her sister.  Unfortunately she doesn’t have much time to think about it before more footsteps are heard off in the distance.  The footsteps get closer and closer.

Kimberly turns around to find Damian Daniel Toole in his ugly glory approaching her in a stumble.  She suspects that he’s been drinking.  He definitely looks far worse than she’s ever seen him, wearing torn denim, black boots that are scuffed up and torn, a wife beater, and his hair is all disheveled.  He looks like he’s been through hell.

“Well I’ll be damned, I didn’t expect you to show up.” Toole remarks with a slurred voice. “I thought you were pulling some kinda prank or some shit like that when you said you wanted to meet me here.  You always struck me as a high class bitch, Marie, but I guess deep down inside you always were a bit of a street whore.”

He stumbles over to her and wraps an arm around her shoulder. “But it’s clear to me that you are MY street whore.  You couldn’t keep yourself away, could ya slut?”

“You’re right, Damian.” Kimberly plants a kiss on Toole’s lips. “But there’s just one problem with that…”

“Oh yeah?”

Kimberly leans in close to whisper into his ear. “I’m not Marie.”

Before Damian can react, Kimberly kicks him below the belt, doubling him over in pain.  Kimberly the kicks him in the ribcage.  Kimberly takes a few steps back, charges, and kicks him in the forehead.  Toole tries to push himself up to his hands and knees but Kimberly kicks him a second time in the ribcage.

“Who the…” he coughs several times “…who the fuck are you then?!”

“I’m Kimberly Francis Williams, Marie’s identical twin sister.”

“Did she send ya?!”

“No, she has no idea I’m here doing this for her.” Kimberly bends down onto the ground and picks up a piece of broken glass she spotted.  She drives it into his side and he shouts out in agony.

“Marie risked her reputation and, hell, her very life for my account when I didn’t deserve her help.   I could never fully pay her back for that but when I heard her abusive ex-boyfriend was back in town, I knew what I could do.” She punches him square in the face. “You hurt my sister, so you deserve to be hurt back.  But Marie is a very brave, courageous individual, far too brave and courageous to do what is necessary to end you once and for all.  Someone like me, I am willing to be the coward. I am willing to be a coward so that she doesn’t have to.  And besides, I have a lot of violent, bloodthirsty tendencies to work out…and you look like just the perfect target…”

She takes her shard of broken glass and takes aim for the throat…

==========

On Camera

==========

Oh my dear sweet Mika!  My friend!  My spirit animal!

Or some shit like that…

There was always a part of me that admired you.  I admired you because finally I had found someone that seemed to be on the exact same page as me.  We were on the same wavelength, Mika.  I mean, I gotta admit, what you did by delivering that pile driver to Peyton in hopes of getting Vanilla Skyy fired, that was the kind of scheme I would’ve cooked up back in the day.

I would’ve shed a tear had I been capable of feeling emotions, but that’s beside the point.

But something happened that night.  Something happened when you drove her head into the mat while I was looking on helpless to do anything; I felt guilt.  Yes, guilt, something I hadn’t experienced in my entire life and it had to happen at the most inopportune of moments.

I think I’m developing conscience which really does suck.  Do you have any idea what it’s like to have a conscience?  It’s a fucking nuisance, I’ll tell you that!  It bothers the hell out of me!  I want to tell it to go fuck off but I can’t!  It is always there!  Constantly nagging me about my bad behavior!

Then the solution was dropped right into my lap and I have to thank Vanilla or Danny or whoever’s bright idea it was to book me against you, my friend Mika, on the next edition of Emerge.  This match is going to be just what I need to exercise some of that violence, some of that darkness, some of those bloodthirsty urges that are still ever-present in my mind.

Either I finally get this nagging guilt trip off my back by ending you, and possibly myself in the process, leaving us both in a pool of blood and gore, or you put me out of my fucking misery and I won’t have to deal with anything ever again, let alone this stupid little conscience!

Either way I win!

So what I suggest is let’s just throw the rules out of the window, ok babe?  Fuck the rules, fuck decency, let’s just beat the holy hell out of each other until one of the other is dead or near to it!  Let’s give these idiots a fight they will want to forget but never can forget for the rest of their lives!

Still, why would I want to embrace the possibility of total destruction?  The obvious answer is that I’m fucking insane but there is more to it.  Take the story of the twelve labors of Hercules…

After Hercules killed his wife and children, he went to the oracle at Delphi. He prayed to the god Apollo for guidance. Hercules was told to serve the king of Mycenae, Eurystheus, for 12 years. During these 12 years, Hercules is sent to perform twelve difficult feats.  The twelfth feat was to descend into hell itself drag Cerberus, the guardian of the gates of hell, back up to the surface.

I view this as my own personal labor.  I have to descend into hell and deal with my own personal demons; not calling you a demon, Mika babe, though some people might.  I have to deal with the demons of my own evil, twisted, corrupt mind, because to survive this war, I know I will have to embrace everything I have tried so hard to get away from.

I am prepared to stare evil in the eye…I’m just not sure who will blink first…