dottie and Bree: Episode 9- Facing the Demons

Dottie and Bree: Episode 9

Bree knew fear; she’d been faced with it her whole life. Daddy’s rough fingers filling painful holes left my Mommy’s slaps and scratches, delicious coke fueled binges, dancing for men and money, feeling her heart beat to explosion calmed only by Dottie’s kind words and valium and stolen fentynal patches.

Bree’s best and worst gift was escape.

She wanted so badly to be brave, but running away was always easier than facing demons. She wanted to turn and gallop into the desert, but she could never leave Dottie alone to be fucked mercilessly by those godless minions. Dottie could have handled three to seven of the imps, even with their sharpened tails driving into unfair dark orifices, but when the swarm increased to twenty-seven plus (swirling above in a mass of crimson, too many to count), the image of her being shred internally by sexual beasts was too much to conceptualize.

Bree was filled with scathing self doubt and crippling regret for decisions made.

She should have called the police from the hotel room in Vegas.

She shouldn’t have stolen that briefcase of coke.

She should have flossed every morning.

She shouldn’t have beaten her step-father to death with a golf club.

She should be strong enough to save Dottie from the demons circling over head.

None of that mattered now; she would defeat her demons or die trying.

Snarling, she charged recklessly into the swarm attempting to skewer as many as possible with her sharpened horns. Three ripped and bleeding wings hung haphazardly from her head; there were too many to fight. They clawed and tore at her hide creating long gaping gashes on her back. She felt nothing as she ran back into the tornado of evil kicking and flailing and biting with abandon. Three more fell; she smashed their heads with heavy hooves as they wriggled and thrashed refusing to die.

There were too many.

Dottie was worried. Bree was wailing on the darkened highway with a seizure of some kind. She was exploding and fighting multiple invisible somethings. She was spitting and frothing and running on all fours. She was an uncontrolable animal ripping at her clothes destroying herself as slashes appeared on her naked body. Dottie assumed the lacerations were from the rocks and asphalt, but the tears were clean and clawlike. They were too deep to be self-inflicted by fingernails.

Bree was doused in blood and Dottie exploded from her drunken stupor to collect her from the highway before the two dots in the distance could illuminate the both of them. She didn’t know who was in that car, but she didn’t want them to find a bleeding naked drunken attack whore in the middle of the road. It would be difficult to explain and Dottie still smelled of whiskey.

“Dottie! Get in the fucking CAR! I won’t let them get you! I’m going to save you!” Tears spilled down Bree’s beaten face and mixed with the blood on her neck creating rivers of white skin. She was thrashing less frequently, but breathing hard as Dottie scooped her up.

“Dottie, we have to open the trunk. That’s the only thing that can save us. Open the trunk.” Her voice was softer now, childlike as she whispered and pleaded. “I’m going to save….” Her body went limp in the passenger seat as Dottie took the wheel.

“No Bree, I’ll save you. I can finally save you.”

The trunk rattled aggressively and Dottie was sure there would be an explosion soon. She could feel it coming closer now, and the fear gripped her deeply as she imagined she saw twenty-seven red demons, some without wings, holding claws in the rear-view mirror.

She had to be imagining.