Revenge is a Dish Best Served in Hell, pt. 2
@OfImmortalHit
The door slammed shut behind her, the noise hurting her ears as metal clashed with more metal. Mavis briefly turned to scowl at it, almost as if to gesture that she was offended the door dared to commit such crimes. But the notion was ridiculous, even in Hell. Inanimate objects did not have their own thought processes or emotions.
Mavis, shaking the thought from her head, faced forward again and examined her surroundings. The place was familiar, trees and moss guiding the way forward. Strange chanting was happening in the distance, and with it, the crackles of fire. And just beyond those torches was a cabin.
This was the exact scenario Mavis had walked in on with her father. It was the night she was presented to the Devil himself.
She immediately stopped in her tracks, only moving to duck behind a tree so she could watch. While she had seen this scene play out twice before, she couldn’t help but notice minor differences in it. Where there was shame in Xavier’s setting, there was only pride and greed here. That’s when it dawned on Mavis that each individual experienced this night differently from person to person. Of course, on a subconscious level, she knew that. It was a completely different experience to observe it firsthand.
Within moments, she watched her toddler form get handed off to Lucifer, her mother beaming with joy as her gift was accepted, and how they would celebrate at Richard’s pub. Watching this made Mavis’ blood boil, and she snarled, briefly sounding like a wild animal. A villager close by caught wind of the sound and even dared to look in Mavis’ direction. She gasped sharply, ensuring her entire body was behind the tree, and waited for footsteps to finish passing by before looking around again.
Once she deemed it safe to do so, Mavis returned her attention to the scene. Still, there was her father, longingly staring at the cabin. How odd, she thought. Why would this still be there?
“No,” she muttered, realization hitting like a steel train at 100 miles an hour. Mary Beth knew of Xavier’s regret, how he desperately clung to the idea of retrieving his only child.
And just like that, the air shifted. Gone was the feeling of pride, and in its place came anger and hostility. A haunting chill dragged itself across Mavis’ spine and to her shoulders. She grimaced, her right hand reaching for her left. It was like someone dragged a blade across her back. Not enough to cause harm per se, just enough to warn her of the presence that lurked nearby. The immortal briefly glanced behind, making sure some Demon or the real Lucifer didn’t find her already. Neither scenario would bode well, she thought.
Turning her attention back, Mavis’ eyes tracked the path, and just as she suspected, there was Mary Beth, marching forward rapidly to reach her father. Words were exchanged, but difficult to make out. What wasn’t difficult to understand was Mary Beth’s hurl of physical violence in Xavier’s direction. She gripped his cheeks, pulling her down to his level – was she that much shorter than he? – and spat in his face. She then proceeded to reach into her skirt’s pockets and pulled out a dagger, and using the pointed blade to drag it across his cheek.
Either it wasn’t enough to hurt and only draw blood, or Xavier was stronger than he let on.
“You will NEVER underestimate me again! Understood?”
Mavis heard those words, loud and clear. She even briefly wondered if half the world heard it, but that was a notion soon forgotten as another realization dawned on the immortal.
Xavier had time to talk because he knew Mary Beth was coming and wanted to get away from that torture. Mavis sighed and closed her eyes, leaning her full body weight against the trunk. She had only been here for all but 10 minutes, and she was already emotionally drained. What was she doing here again?
Just then, she fell to the floor with a thud, her head colliding with the ground upon impact. “OW!” Mavis yelped, eyes shut tightly as she worked to peel herself off the ground. Hands braced on either side, she pushed herself up and cautiously opened her eyes.
Bright lights illuminated white walls and floors, practically blinding her. “What the—“
“Hello, Mavis, dear.”
Mavis froze, and her gaze locked forward. The voice. It was as chilling and convoluted as she remembered. And it came from behind her.
Shaky, she finally got herself into a standing position. The immortal slowly, and cautiously, felt at her belt, ensuring her weapons were still attached to her body. The last thing she needed was to be stripped of all defenses, especially exposed like this. A shaky sigh of relief passed through her lips. She even managed a small smile.
“Aren’t you going to hug your mummy?”
Well, Mavis managed a short-lived smile anyway.
“Only if I hated myself,” Mavis retorted, gradually spinning on her heel to face the being that plagued her nightmares for centuries.
“Well, don’t you?” Mary Beth responded immediately, head cocked to the side. A snide, devilish smirk graced her lips. Mavis wanted nothing more than to smack it off that ignorant face. “Your silence is overwhelming, dear.”
Mavis assessed her mother, eying her up and down. Despite the change in scenery, or lack thereof, Mary Beth still wore that dress and bonnet from that one night. She was well put together, not a stray hair out of place or wrinkle to be found. The question remained if she had weapons on her person, other than her tongue, anyway.
Mary Beth’s obnoxious laugh pulled Mavis back into the moment, her brow furrowing and eyes scowling. “Really? You come to talk to your old mummy and don’t want to say a word? Oh, you’re even more pathetic than I remember.”
The immortal did her best to maintain a poker face, but she could feel her cheeks turn red and nostrils flare. “I’m–I’m not pa-pathetic,” she said, though even she had to acknowledge that sounded far from convincing. An even louder laugh erupted from Mary Beth, confirming her suspicions. It wasn’t at all convincing. This was not going well. “I’m not… I’m not here to entertain you, Mary Beth. I—“
“First of all, that’s Mother to you. Second—“
“Oh, shut the fuck up!” Mavis shouted, her dagger in hand. She doesn’t even remember grabbing it, and it took her a moment to even realize she had. None of this mattered, however. The conniving woman before her was what did, and how she managed to creep under her skin despite only exchanging so few sentences. Wait, when did she suddenly get so itchy? “I need answers, and unfortunately, you’re the only one with those answers.”
Mary Beth’s smirk widened, instantly causing Mavis to cringe and internally groan. How this was going, how she was behaving, was far from how she wanted this to go. It’s like she was becoming possessed.
“Like I said, that’s Mother to you.”
Mavis sheathed her dagger back in its spot. “Fine,” she muttered, soon swallowing the lump in her throat. Mavis was going to have to be mindful of how she played this game, but it was evident they weren’t going to get anywhere if she failed to oblige with this request. And all she had to do was say it. It’s not like she had to mean it. “Mother.”
“Hmm,” Mother hummed. “No wonder the Devil chose you. You’re so easy!” She laughed again, this time moving about the room as if she owned the place.
Mavis was diligent, ensuring she followed her every move. “I’m not easy.”
“Oh, please, dear. Let’s not lie now. You gave him your first everything, didn’t you? First kiss, first time, first love… Tell me, do you think he’s not above exploiting pathetic mortals? To get what he needs from them? What makes you so special that he wouldn’t do the same?”
The words were painful, each one tearing at the heartstrings more than the last. Mavis had to admit – Mother was good. But she could be better.
She had to be better.
“He loves me,” Mavis retorted, and at the words, Mother stopped in her tracks. It wasn’t until then that Mavis realized she was being circled like prey, and her opponent was the predator. She will have to remove herself from this situation, but discreetly. She can’t let her Mother know she’d started putting the puzzle pieces together. “Which is more than I can say for you. Who loved you?”
“You did.” The response was immediate. Almost too immediate for her liking. “Tell me, when did your flesh start rotting, your majesty?”
Mavis abruptly turned away from her Mother, her shaky hand reaching to touch her cheek. Her cheek was far from smooth, which meant her olive-toned skin was, in fact, gone. As her gaze worked its way upwards, the immortal came face to face with herself. The right side of her face was gone, and in its place was the black, deteriorating flesh that solidified her fate to Hell. She moved her hand to touch her clone.
Except it wasn’t a clone.
It was her reflection, staring back at her. Where had the mirror come from?
Wait. When did her white eye turn completely white?
Refusing to succumb to Mother’s games, to succumb to her insecurities, Mavis swiftly turned around to face the deviant she wanted answers from. But she was gone.
Mavis reached for her handgun, her palm resting on the holster as she eyed her surroundings. It appeared as if she were alone, but she knew better. This was Mother’s Hell, they were beyond her door.
“Looking for someone?”
Startled, Mavis quickly turned on her heel, gun firing two shots from the direction in which the voice came – behind her, right in her ear. Except it was only her reflection, again. Two bullet holes lined up perfectly where her abdomen was. And that realization somehow caused a sharp pain to radiate from her stomach.
She crippled over, gasping, the feeling of fired nerves and lungs filling with blood plaguing her senses. The immortal dropped to a knee, arm nestled tightly over her wounds.
In a moment’s time, she developed the courage to peel her limb away and assess the damage. But, much like how the rest of this encounter had transpired, it was all a mirage. She inflicted her own pain without causing physical damage. A sensation she was all too familiar with.
Shaking her head free of those thoughts, she stood up again and looked directly at the mirror. The bullet holes vanished, the glass flawless as if nothing struck it moments prior. Then, she dared to search for her face. That, too, was flawless. Her skin was absolutely radiant as if it weren’t just a reminder of the rotting soul that lay beneath.
That’s when it dawned on Mavis. She was playing checkers when she needed to be playing chess, like Mary Beth. Like her Mother.
“Enough of this,” she grumbled, replacing her gun with her dagger. Bullets could clearly be manipulated here. Let’s see what happens with a close-range blade. “Come on out, Mother!” She bellowed, an almost sadistic tone in her voice. “Isn’t this what you want? Me, your daughter, at your mercy? To do your bidding?”
A laugh echoed off the walls, measured footsteps trailing each ‘ha.’ Unfortunately for Mavis, she was unable to place the precise location. The echoes and the wickedness of Hell’s Forbidden Section completely threw her off. Yet, just as she was about to lose hope, her Mother creepily wrapped her fingers around a mirror’s edge from across the room, and she leisurely revealed herself.
“You must think highly of yourself to have so many mirrors,” Mavis coldly stated as she spun the dagger in her palm and methodically approached her Mother. Each step closing the distance between the pair. “Why are you so cruel?”
“Interesting word choice,” Mother remarked. It seemed she, too, was intent on closing the distance between them. “I wouldn’t put it as cruel. I simply did what was necessary for the greater good.”
“What ‘greater good?’”
Mother shrugged. “Why are you a hitman?”
The immortal stopped in her tracks. No one ever asked this before, though she’s sure others wanted to. “For… my beliefs, of course. To help others seek justice.”
“Is that what you tell yourself? Interesting,” Mother said. She was still approaching Mavis, still as slowly and as creepily as before. “So, for argument’s sake, let’s entertain this reason. Let’s say you were honest with yourself and sought to achieve justice for others. Why continue to be a hitman?”
It dawned on Mavis that her Mother was highly aware of her history. The tribe that was murdered by America’s top political figures, the countless children she desperately hoped to save, and the selling herself into marriage… All of it. Regardless of that, however, there was one point that even she had failed to address.
Why continue to be a hitman?
And that was a question she could not answer. As such, she chose to remain silent, submitting herself to her Mother’s torment. And her Mother knew it, too.
“Care to know what I think?” Mother asked, but before a response could even be supplied, she continued. “I think you’re psychologically motivated. You seek control. You crave it, even. It’s a factor you’ve lacked for your entire life.” She paused, Mavis watching as she tilted her head from side to side in a daunting manner. Mavis was being analyzed; she could feel it, and whatever the next words would be were bound to hold some truth. “I’m willing to bet, however, you don’t feel like you’re in control. It’s all a falsehood for you, an illusion. You’re far too much of a people pleaser… So much so that you fail at life’s most basic needs. You’re a fraud. You’ll always be one. Lucifer knows this, and in due time, your kids will, too.”
“I’m—I’m not a—a fraud!”
“Oh, but you are.” Mother quipped. Again, far too immediate for Mavis’ liking. “You parade yourself about, somehow convinced you’re a sort of Queen of Hell, that Lucifer loves you… That you’re some sort of hero in all of this, redeeming souls and sending them to a better fate. But you and I both know that you have more blood on your hands than you can possibly be redeemed for.” Mavis offered a quizzical look, her grip tightening around the dagger’s handle. “You’re just like me.”
At the words, Mavis straightened her posture as her eyes narrowed and nostrils flared, her chest rising and falling in dramatic fashion. “No.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m not a fraud. I’m not like you. Most importantly, I am loved.”
“Are you sure about that?” Mother asked, her hand raising to reveal a dagger.
One Mavis recognized. “Shit!” She exclaimed, looking down at her now empty hand.
Before anything else could register, a loud, high-pitch scream filled the boundaries, along with even louder and fast approaching footsteps. Mavis looked up in time to block the first swing with her forearm. Her Mother was truly mad, and now that she was up close, she could see just how vacant her soul was. For a moment, she wondered if her Mother was always like this and she never noticed, or if this is just what Hell did to a person.
Reacting quickly, the hitman harnessed her fighting instincts and utilized her other hand to grab her Mother’s wrist, squeezing it enough to irritate a specific pressure point. It was a long shot, admittedly, as she still had lots to learn about Hell. Fortunately, this worked in her favor, the dagger slipping from Mother’s grasp and the blade cluttered to the floor. She quickly stepped on it and kicked it to the side, though she wasn’t sure that would do anything in the long run. When did she even let go of it to begin with?
“You’re a fraud, dear. Admit it. You’re an unlovable fraud that’s just like me, your Mother.”
Mavis smiled, wickedly, and though she couldn’t see herself, she could feel the craze developing from within. And based on her Mother’s reactions, it was seeping through. Then, two cold handles materialized in both hands. She examined each one. The dagger and the pickaxe.
“You’re wrong,” was all Mavis said before twisting the blade in her hand and articulately slicing her Mother’s neck open. Dark red liquid poured out, and she watched in amazement.
Adrenaline filled her veins.
And with this newfound energy, Mavis sharply kicked Mother’s kneecaps, a loud snapping sound filling the void, followed shortly by pained gasps. The immortal watched on as Mother not-so-gracefully fell to the ground, a fleeting look crossing her features.
Oh, how Mavis would enjoy this.
“And you deserve this,” Mavis snarled as she dropped the dagger once more and raised the pickaxe, swinging violently at the body before her. Blood splattered, staining the white floors and mirrors. She even felt some landing on her body, but she didn’t care. Just like how she failed to care when her swinging arm turned black, similar to the appearance on her face a few minutes prior.
Eventually, the breathing was ragged, and the adrenaline had worn thin. At some point, through her rage, she had landed herself on top of Mother. A knee on either side while pinning those unforgiving limbs down. Regardless, she was all too satisfied with her handiwork. The various slashes that littered this creature’s body, the blood that pooled beneath.
Mavis had done it. After centuries of unfathomable torture, she had done it. She got her revenge.
Then, there was a cough. Then two. Then three. A callous snicker in between each. It seemed the creature still had some life in her yet. In turn, Mavis waited. Surely there would be some final thoughts worth sharing.
“You’re right,” this being coughed out between belated breaths. “You’re worse.”
Enraged, Mavis tightened her grip around the pickaxe’s handle. “And you are no Mother.”
With one final swing, she landed the axe in the chest, digging it deep into the sternum so it couldn’t move. Beneath her, she felt the body go limp. She chuckled, finally victorious, but she really wanted to seal the deal and stare into those vacant eyes. To mock them.
However, once she had done so, she came face to face with her own face. It was the mirror all over again, but worse. This hadn’t been a reflection, but a clone of herself. She killed herself.
She killed her old self.
Gulping, she slid off the body and put some distance between her and… well, her. Living Mavis pulled her knees into her chest, resting her palms on her forehead as she shakily breathed. Gone was the adrenaline rush, and in its place was anxiety.
And, to add insult to injury, something else didn’t feel right…
Mavis’ skin never regenerated, leaving her appearance to be half rotten.
Half rotten and alone, with nothing more than her corpse lying a few feet away.
“What have I done?”