Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
My anxiety had become an incessant white noise in my head that wouldn’t go away. I knew in my heart that if I ran from the fear and uneasiness, it would follow me. Pinching my weenus was useless. Inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly didn’t work. Reminding myself I couldn’t die for real in a dream state, didn’t help. Candy Vargo had said I was a badass. Right now, I wasn’t so sure.
I’d keep moving forward. There was no going back.
Concealing myself behind a tree filled with birds who could remove my upper body with one bite, I assessed the situation.
It did not look good. At all. Why in the world was I on a beach with deadly vicious Demons? I didn’t even like the beach all that much in real life.
A deep panic set in. I was on my own in a game where the rules were missing. There was a distinct possibility that I could get stuck with Pandora in a dream state for the rest of time. Abaddon wasn’t here to guide me. Fifi wasn’t with me to bang the enemy to death. Ophelia wasn’t around to give me crap and lop a few heads off. My mom wasn’t here to give me a hug and words of wisdom. The dread started low in my gut and spread through me like a wildfire. I couldn’t act my way out of this one.
All I wanted to do was go home. At this point, I didn’t care if Pandora was stuck inside me. I’d just close the metal door when I needed privacy. That would be cowardly and horribly unfair to her, but I was so close to a breakdown I could taste it. The lesser of two shitty evils would be living with Pandora in LA instead of in a warped dream state filled with nightmare-inducing creatures. I was tempted to click my heels together three times like Candy Vargo and Dorothy Gale to find out if I could get home that way. But it wasn’t just my life I was dealing with…
“Pandora,” I whispered. “How would you… umm… feel about living inside me permanently?”
My answer was dead silence.
“Right,” I amended quickly before she cursed a blue streak. I wasn’t sure if my ears could take much more outdoor voice. The conversations with the munchkins had been ear-splitting. “That’s what I thought.”
“You are a Demon Goddess,” Pandora snarled. “Behave like one.”
I kept my voice low. I was situated a good distance away from the action, but didn’t want to reveal myself until I chose to. The Demons were milling around and sizing each other up. “You wanna know something?”
“Probably not,” she replied. “However, I’m going to hazard a guess that I don’t have much of a choice.”
“Correct,” I said. “Here’s the thing. I don’t want to be a Demon Goddess.”
She groaned. “No one wants to be a fucking Demon Goddess, Cecily. It’s horrid. Do you think I chose this job? Do you think your mother did? Catastrophic shit like this gets thrust upon people. No one in their right mind would apply for the position of being in charge of violent assholes.”
That wasn’t the reply I was expecting. I’d been hoping for more of a pep talk.
When I didn’t say anything, she kept going. “I see this situation going one of two ways. One, you could be a wimpy-assed pussy, get stuck in a dream state and have sexual relations with fanged munchkins for eternity while doing your best to avoid the golf-cart-riding-ashtray named Phyllis. Or two, you could put on your big girl fucking panties and figure out what the obstacles are. With luck, we can get to whatever your version of the Higher Power is and it will get me out of you. And let me add, if I have to live inside you forever, I will make your life a living hell.”
Closing my eyes, I pressed my face against the bark of the tree. It was rough and probably putting weird dents into my forehead. I didn’t care. “Okay, ewww to banging munchkins. That’s repulsive. Phyllis might reek, but she didn’t try to kill me, so one point for her. And you’re already making my life a living hell. I don’t see how it would be much different.”
Pandora growled. The vibration of her fury made my toes tingle. “What do you want?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“What favor do you want? Money? Power? My subservience?” she asked harshly. “Name it. It’s yours.”
I shook my head. She didn’t get it. I barely got it. “I don’t want anything from you. Yes. I would like you out of me. You’re a pain in the ass, but I’m about to break. Not long ago, I was a forty-year-old human and former child star about to make my freaking comeback on a new hit TV show. It was only about a month ago that I found out I was a Demon. I’m not qualified to be a Demon Goddess. You feel me, jackass?”
“I have no interest in feeling you, imbecile. As appalling as it is, you’re a Goddess by birthright. Period. I’ve seen you fight. The power you possess infuriates me. It’s ridiculous that someone like you is so gifted. It should have taken you decades, if not centuries, to wield fire swords. And why you have two is fucking beyond me. You’re also a fool not to accept a favor from me. However, you are your mother’s daughter so that’s unsurprising. Lilith is as dimwitted and ill-advised as you are.” She paused and regrouped. I was pretty sure she was mortified that she’d paid me a few compliments in between insulting me. With an enormous put-upon sigh, Pandora continued. “But here’s the truth, it’s easy to break. It’s much harder to repair. If you chose to heal, you become stronger. You will never be unbreakable. No one is. If you don’t shatter you will never grow. Wisdom will elude you and you’ll end up a shell of who you could be. Fight for who you are meant to become.”
If there were bugs in this dream state, I would have caught a few in my wide-open mouth. Pandora’s words were brilliant and sage. It sounded like advice from my mother. The simple fact that she shared it was shocking.
“What happened to you? Why didn’t you choose to heal?” The words left my lips before I knew they were coming out.
She stayed quiet for so long that I wasn’t sure she’d heard me. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded hollow and bitter. “Life happened. I did something forbidden, and I paid the price… as does everyone I come into contact with. Healing is no longer possible for me.”
I repeated what Daisy had said earlier. “Nothing is impossible. You just have to believe.”
“Meaningless words,” she said dismissively.
“I don’t believe that,” I countered. “You opened the box. You became the box. You never knew what it contained. You were never told of the repercussions. I don’t see that as fair.”
“Old news,” she hissed. “Get over it. I did. And if you think life is fair, you are going to have a hell of a time negotiating it.”
“But it’s different now,” I told her. The tragedy of her life pulled at my heart. She was bad, there was no question. But to me… the Higher Power was far worse. It had played with her in the most inhumane way.
“It will never be different,” she hissed. “You’re not my therapist. Trust me, you do not want to be my therapist. I’ve killed twenty of them so far.”
That was alarming news. I hoped she was lying but knew she probably wasn’t. I ignored it for now and got back to my point. I wouldn’t let her distract me with her hideous deeds.
“I beg to disagree, Pandora.”
“I prefer it when you call me Shitty Whore,” she retorted.
“Fine. I beg to differ, Shitty Whore. When I hugged you, the final offering in the box was released. Hope.”
“Fuck you. There’s no such thing as hope. Over time you will realize that my statement is true.”
“You’re wrong,” I said. “Very wrong.”
“Time will tell,” she ground out. “And you’re wasting it. Describe to me what you see in front of you,” Pandora insisted coldly.
She was wrong about a lot, but she was spot on about the time. Trying to stay calm, I went with it. “We’re on a smallish island—white sandy beaches and a body of water surrounding it. There are some seriously messed up birds hanging out in palm trees and it’s sunny. Red sun. Gold clouds. The air smells salty. Two sets of bleachers at the far end.” I squinted from my vantage point and spotted a familiar face sitting at the top. “Phyllis is seated on the bleachers. She’s alone. No one else is sitting there.”
“Is she smoking?”
“She is. Why?” I asked.
“Mostly curious. I find her gross.”
“Ditto.”
“Keep talking,” she said tersely.
“Demons, or as I like to call them, flaming assholes, are here. Three of them. They’re circling each other, and no one looks happy.”
“Armed?” Pandora asked.
“To the teeth. There’s an obstacle course.” The road to the Higher Power just got stickier and filled with deadly potholes. Phyllis’ words echoed in my mind. Youse are gonna have a journey filled with obstacles. If youse fail one, youse is gonna have to start over at the beginnin’.
“Ropes? Mud? Bars to swing from? Walls to climb over?”
I looked down at my stomach. She wasn’t technically in my stomach, but it felt right. “Can you see?”
“No. Am I correct?”
“You are. How?”
“Gut feeling. The talking ashtray mentioned obstacles and you said we’re on an island,” she replied. “Have you seen the show Survivor ?”
I wanted to kick my own ass for not watching much TV. It appeared I didn’t have to. Life was coming to kick it for me. “I’ve seen it once or twice,” I admitted.
“And you call yourself an actress?” she demanded.
“I don’t do reality TV, Shitty Whore. Plus, I like to read.”
“Whatever,” she shot back. “What do you know about the show?”
“Not much. Give me a quick rundown.”
She blew a loud raspberry. I wanted to smack her.
“Fine. On the show, the contestants travel to a remote tropical island where they have to fend for themselves and participate in challenges. They can form alliances to help each other, though, I’d advise not forming pacts with armed Demons. Whoever loses the challenge risks getting voted off the show by the other contestants. The prize goes to the last man or woman standing. It’s normally a million dollars.”
“I’m thinking this version of the show might include decapitation,” I muttered as I watched the flaming assholes wield purple fire swords.
“Most likely,” Pandora agreed. “Often times at the end of the obstacle course is a puzzle of sorts. Are you good at puzzles?”
“Pretty good.”
“I’m excellent at puzzles,” she informed me. “I shall help you solve it.”
“Why are you being so agreeable?”
She laughed. The sound was harsh. “If you think it’s because I’m growing fond of you, think again, Bitch Goddess Cecily. I despise you. If you can’t complete the mission, I’m stuck in you. That’s unacceptable. It’s to my advantage to aid you.”
“Got it,” I said flatly. It would be stupid to believe we could get along. We had the same goal at the moment, so it was a temporary truce. Once I evicted her, the ceasefire—so to speak—would end. “How long does the show last?”
“On TV, it goes for about forty days, or at least it used to. I highly doubt there’s more than one challenge here though. Do you spot Jeff Probst?”
“Jeff who?” I asked.
“You are so going to die,” she informed me. “The host of the show. He’s normally in cargo pants and a t-shirt. He’ll be wearing a large ornate necklace that will be given to the winner. Occasionally, he wears a baseball cap.”
Pandora was a Survivor fan. I might not have physical backup, but I had the Shitty Whore. Never would I have thought I’d be happy about that, but times had changed… and so had I.
“No. I don’t see anyone who fits that description. All I see is Phyllis and three Demons.”
“Interesting. Maybe we should go and look for a hidden immunity idol. It might come in handy if we lose and the Demons want to vote us dead.”
I didn’t watch the show, but I didn’t have to be a genius to surmise what a hidden immunity idol was all about. “Do we have time to search for one?”
“Probably not,” Pandora replied. “If we don’t win, there might be time before Tribal Council.”
“Let’s win.”
“Good plan,” she agreed. “Well, my best guess is that there will only be one challenge.”
“I sure as hell hope so,” I muttered. “I guess it’s survive or die time.”
“Let’s survive,” Pandora uttered.
Watching for my opening to join the shitshow me itchy. Reminding myself that in the past I’d successfully ended Demons who wanted me dead was only a small comfort. It was wildly unrealistic to think the challenge wouldn’t include violence. Still staying low and hidden, I tested to see if my magic worked. My fingers immediately sparked. I quickly shoved them into the sand to douse the flames so I wouldn’t be discovered.
The sound of metal on metal made me jump. “Holy shit.”
“What?”
“A huge screen just appeared,” I explained. The screen was the size of a billboard on the side of the highway and was situated above the bleachers. Tribal music blasted out of speakers I couldn’t see. Photos of the contestants were being projected. For the umpteenth time today, my jaw went slack. “No freaking way.”
“If you leave me in the dark, I will start singing. You do not want me to sing,” Pandora threatened.
“Umm… the contestants,” I said, staring at the screen. “Their faces. It’s all wrong. They have the bodies of Demons but not the faces.”
“At the risk of sounding like you—which gives me gas—could you be more specific?”
I had the absurd desire to laugh. I didn’t. “Yep, I can. One them has the face of Mr. Rogers. One has the face of Mr. McFeely and the other has the face of Pee-wee Herman. It’s the people from Candy Vargo’s version of the Higher Power’s plane.”
“I do not get paid enough to deal with this shit,” she grumbled. “It’s quite obvious that you’ve internalized other people’s accounts.”
“Very obvious,” I agreed. “The munchkins had the faces of Brad Pitt, Clark Gable, Warren Beatty, Dolly Parton and Jennifer Aniston.”
“Son of a bitch,” she griped. “I’m so mad I missed that. Did you get a picture?”
“Nope. After they beat the hell out of each other it wasn’t worth it.”
“I would have been fine with seeing them dismembered,” she said, pouting.
“Of course, you would have,” I shot back with an eye roll. “Names. Their names are with the photos. Mr. Rogers is Drogruzun. Mr. McFeely is Ezzanod and Pee-wee Herman is Brolrath.”
“I don’t recognize any of those names,” Pandora said. “They are not my people.”
I caught myself before I reminded her that she didn’t have people anymore. It had already been said and she hadn’t liked it. Even if… no, when I got her out of me, the Shitty Whore was in for a world of hurt. Killing Lilith would not go unpunished. Candy Vargo was pissed that Pandora had escaped her timeout for trying to destroy Abaddon. There was no way the Keeper of Fate would make that mistake twice. It went without saying that I would owe Pandora for her help. The Demon world was very eye for an eye. However, she’d committed the sin that made all others pale in comparison.
“Good to know,” I said. “Pretty sure they’re not my people either.”
The photos of Drogruzun, Ezzanod and Brolrath were on a loop. I’d seen all three at least six times now. In the blink of an eye, the wind picked up. The sun emitted a sizzling pop and grew brighter. I had to shield my eyes from the glare. Drogruzun, Ezzanod and Brolrath began to growl and gnash their sharp teeth. In human form a Demon looked like a regular person. In Demon form, not so much. The searing heat coming from their hulking eight-foot bodies stank like sulfur and made my stomach clench. The green fire with icy blue sparks covered their bodies popped and crackled. They were ready to rumble.
Shit.
The next surprise wasn’t much of a surprise. I’d expected it. It was my dream state, after all. A picture of me graced the screen. It was a recent photo from a shoot Cher had insisted I do. The look was casual sexy. I was leaning against a wall at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. My expression was direct and fairly neutral, but my eyes held a world of untold secrets. It was the picture of a strong woman—a woman who knew what she wanted and would work to get it. A woman who would not back down from a fight.
“I need to be her,” I whispered.
“Who?” Pandora asked.
“Me.”
“What?”
“Never mind,” I told her. “I just got my cue to enter the scene.”
“Excellent,” she said. “Chin high, shoulders back and be prepared to dismember the competition. Go for the balls first. If you angle the sword slightly to the left of the crotch and slice it up in a circular motion, you will sever off the penis as well as the testicles. It’s quite glorious. They never expect it. Just when they realize they’re now sopranos, lop their fucking heads off.”
“Mmmkay,” I said with a wince. It wasn’t a bad plan but the visual was nasty.
“How do you feel?” she questioned.
“Kind of like I want to softly vomit into a paper cup.”
“That was rather graphic,” she commented.
“Like talking about carving up man-bits wasn’t graphic?” Not that I cared that she’d suggested it. I’d threatened to cut off the Clarks’ johnsons moments earlier. It was how she’d meticulously described the deed in step-by-step detail.
“Touché,” she replied with a laugh. “Remember this, you’re a Goddess of the Darkness. One of two. Actually, at the moment, you’re both of us. That fuckstick, Candy Vargo, believes you’re a badass. Be the badass. I want my body and my freedom back.”
“Amen to that,” I added.
“Walk out there and do the damned challenge. Narrate what you do so I can help. I’d also highly suggest you win. The talking ashtray warned that if you don’t, you’ll have to start from the beginning. I really don’t think I can take listening to those idiot munchkins again. Although, I wouldn’t mind another cookie.”
That gave me pause. “You think we’ll have to go back to Snoz? I kind of took it as we’d have to repeat whatever we failed. We did pretty good with the munchkins.”
“How about this? Let’s not find out. Just win the challenge, so we can be off to the next one,” she said.
“I’d really like to do this only once,” I muttered, shaking out my arms and hopping up and down to warmup.
“Then do it,” she shouted.
With a quick double pinch to both of my weenuses, I stepped out from behind the tree and walked onto the set of the dream state version of Survivor .
I had one job… survive it.