"Ugh my head…" Vengeful Venom brought his hand to his forehead and rubbed at the wound now caked with dried blood, immediately pulling his hand back at the pain that met him. Waking up in a dark alleyway with bruises and blood all over him wasn't ideal, but it was better than waking up tied to a chair only to get the shit beaten out of him for an hour. Blinking his eyes a few times, Venom mentally cursed upon realizing how much darker the sky had gotten around him since he'd closed his eyes.
God damnit! I was only supposed to close my eyes for a few minutes, not a few hours. On the plus side, I don't feel like I'm going to die anymore so getting some rest must have actually helped. I don't think I could've managed much longer without passing out anyway. At least having done so here, I didn't get into any trouble. Slowly stirring, with every intention upon getting up from his corner in the alleyway and finding somewhere quiet and well lit to go over the files he'd stolen, Venom started onto his feet but stopped mid-crouch.
Voices in the street caused him to hesitate. Are the Dracs still looking for me? Did they ever come looking for me to begin with? Did they find me? Have they been scouring the streets for the Drac in the bloody lab coat who escaped? What happened in that facility that caused the alarms to go off like that? Clearly it wasn't me they were freaking out about with all of those sirens, considering everyone ran past me like I wasn't there. Reminded of the lab coat he was wearing, Venom slipped it off of his shoulders and discarded it inside of the already open dumpster. Continuing to stay crouched next to the trash can he'd fell asleep leaning against Venom listened to the hushed conversation happening outside of his alley in hopes of finding out what had happened in the facility.
"What are you going to do after I'm gone? Are you really going to let Fire Frenzy break into Central Command by herself? She's cute and all but she seems a little… off. Probably going to get herself killed if you let her do that. You should call the men in white coats to take her to get some help, it'd be good for her."
"Rocky, she seems a little whacky but she's really more perceptive than you think. She picked up on a lot of things about all of us without me having to say anything, and she's smart enough not to mess around with you... Besides, if I tell her she can't go in she'll end up doing it anyway and at least if I'm helping her she might stand a chance getting through that maze of a building."
"That confident in yourself these days are you, Nation? I know you're the inside man and all but I doubt the higher ups for Better Living Industries trusted a rookie with all of their secrets. They're cleverer than any of us give them credit for." Rocky spoke, a cigarette lit between his lips.
"I worked there for a year at the very least Rocky, of course I'm confident in my abilities. I could get us in there and I know that I've been black listed, but I know all the damn secrets to getting in. Better Living may be clever, but they don't think I'd have the balls to break back into their building. What happens next depends on what Frenzy's actual plans are. If she wants to take Better Living Industries down, then that's the place to do it. They keep everything there and I mean everything."
"It's a fucking fortress, you're as out of your mind as she is thinking you have a chance at taking that place down." Rocky shuffled nervously, a silhouette in the alleyway to Venom thanks to the dim light outside. He contemplated approaching the two men who were clearly Killjoys and asking them to help him or offering them what he knew, including the folders he'd stolen on the IOD project. With the wounds on his body and the bar code on his neck, along with the paranoid feel he was getting from the two men, Venom was sure they'd shoot him on sight so instead he stayed hunched, closed his eyes, and listened. It's a shame that there's no way I could communicate to them that I'm trying to help. If Party Poison were here he'd help me out, but no, I had to be a stubborn asshole and come in here to do this on my own. Opening his eyes, Venom continued to watch the two men, trying to study as many details about them both as he could.
"Aren't you tired of dealing with them?" Nation cursed, slipping a habitual hand into his hair to push it back and into place before bringing it back down to momentarily rest on his chin while he thought. "Aren't you exhausted from having to run for your life when you try to do anything in this City? We're not bad people we shouldn't be fugitives the way we are."
"We're all tired of dealing with them, but we're not stupid enough to think we can take them down by barging in the front door and firing a damn gun!" Rocky grabbed the man's shoulders in concern and gave him a slight shake. "You can't run in there with this girl, it's suicide. You're not a good enough shot man, and I hate to be the one to break it to you but if you're relying on those skills to get you out of there alive you're as good as dead."
"It's better than sitting and doing nothing! It's better than hiding in my apartment until they find me and kill me anyway! Why are we so afraid of them? Why? There are so many more of us than there are of them! If we'd all stop being so afraid and just go after them we'd outnumber them and take them down! People should never be afraid of their government, government should fear their people!"
"We're terrified of them because they're capable of shit we could never dream up. Because their web is weaved a lot longer and deeper than either of us could possibly imagine. Going after them, even as a group, we'd get ourselves killed. They have resources we would never have access too." Rocky pulled his arms away from Nation's shoulders and slipped the cigarette out of his mouth, exhaling a large puff of smoke. Whatever nerves had been plaguing the man called Rocky, Venom noticed they seemed slightly alleviated by the nicotine in his cigarette.
"I can't lie around and watch them do this to this City anymore when I have a chance to really make an impact on them. We have a real chance to take them out Rocky, it's not as hopeless as you're making it out to be. If we take out the computers in the third floor of that building Rocky then they are fucked. Their communications, recipes, experiments, control center, everything is on that floor. They have no files backed up, none. It's all on those computers and you know why they keep it all up there? Do you know why they have no backups?"
"Why?" The man called Rocky seemed skeptical and reluctant to hear the answer.
"Because they don't think were strong enough or smart enough to ever get near it so why the hell should they bother backing it up? Or keeping it some fortress?" Venom couldn't see Nation's eyes from where he hid in the dark alleyway but he had a feeling there was a dangerous glint of excitement within them, shining with hope.
"Cocky bastards." Rocky exhaled his cigarette smoke once again, concentrating on the bitter taste of it. Even he was starting to think this plan could actually stand a chance. Venom could read his body language well enough to guess what he was thinking.
"Well they're wrong about us. Some of us are strong enough to get in there and brave enough to try so if Frenzy thinks she can do it then I'll help her as much as I'm able to. With the Dracs distracted by being out attacking the Killjoys in the zones security could be less than usual at the Central Command. Our best time is to strike now. We have to do this before it's too late and we're back to square one."
"You're going to get yourself killed." Rocky whispered after a moment of quiet contemplation, dropping the cigarette on the ground and crushing it between his boots until the smoke and flame disappeared.
"Well at least I'll go out fighting. I'm tired of hiding in my apartment and watching my back. I sit every night listening to their transmissions, hoping that the Killjoys would come and storm the City or something and they never do. I want to fight Rocky, I want to help the Killjoys succeed in taking down Better Living and I think we have a real shot here at doing just that." Nation sounded far more confident than Venom expected him to. It's insane to break into Central Command, even under the circumstances. But, if they're going in and they feel this bold perhaps they'll get lucky.
"What about Marilyn Deathrow, huh? She cares for you man, like a lot and you're going to throw that out to go fight some other girl's battle?"
"Look Rocky, it's not just her battle, it's all of ours. It always has been. You're risking your neck breaking into the air strip too, stealing a fucking plane to go out and warn a bunch of Killjoys you don't even know. You could get shot down and die before you got out of the City's perimeter and no one would be the wiser. So why are you doing that then? It's taking just as big of a risk as I am, considering how locked down this City is right now."
"I'm not going to get shot down on my way out of the City. Dracs have shit for aim and you know it."
"They don't have shit for aim or we'd have won this war by now and wouldn't be so damn scared of them would we?" Nation countered. "Look, Marilyn will understand that I have to do this. I know that she will. You need to get out of here while you can. If they get any wind of this all air travel will be grounded and they'll bring out the heavy guns to make sure it stays that way."
Venom stopped listening to the conversation outside of the alleyway. He remembered the woman they were talking about previously, Fire Frenzy. He remembered finding her wanted picture and information inside of the theater before it exploded. He remembered helping her and Party Poison out of the alleyway in the first zone and into the underground to meet up with Rainbow Riot. He'd heard stories about her from Riot about the way that they'd fought together over the years and how their friendship had strengthened.
If this Nation character was the same one he'd seen on the wanted list with Fire Frenzy then they were going to need all the backup they could possibly get. Venom grabbed the folders from beneath where he sat and started slowly creeping down the alleyway in the opposite direction. He'd decided he'd heard enough of their plan so he could stop snooping and carry out with what he had planned for the rest of the night. The files that had once sat beneath him were burning to be read.
I'll follow them into Central Command and provide backup unseen. I'm sure they could use the help anyway but if I offered it before I saw Fire Frenzy I'd probably end up dead and useless. First I've got to get cleaned up though. I wouldn't very much help if I bled out before I got to the damn command center in the first place. I know it's risky breaking in there but if those two are willing to do it then I'm willing to do the same and risk my life with them. Not to mention, my luck is pretty fantastic today and they could use that kind of luck. Well, except for getting the shit kicked out of me. That was not lucky. At least none of my bones seem broken minus my finger. That's lucky.
Death-iNation and Zeppelin Rocket crept through the streets of Battery City, never aware that prying eyes had watched their entire conversation. Nation clipped the wired fence surrounding the airstrip just enough for them to sneak through it The two hurried to the nearest small plane on the airstrip. The rest of the ones left outside were too cumbersome or were jetliners so the biplane at the far end of the runway seemed to be just what they needed. Dark clouds were creeping in from the western sky, threatening rain and thunder in the near future. Flashes of lighting could be seen illuminating bits of the clouds even from as far as they were from them.
"It's not worth it to try and break into the hangar to look for something smaller. By the time we get those big fucking doors opened up we'll have guns at our throats. They're noisy as fuck and take ten minutes to open so it's best if we just stick with this even though I'm more used to monoplanes." Zeppelin Rocket instructed, aware that his friend wasn't as savvy about aviation as he was. Glancing around until he found a set of wheeled stairs Zeppelin Rocket nodded toward them and instructed for Nation to join him. Nation helped him drag the stairway over to the plane and secure it so that Zeppelin Rocket could climb in properly without it rolling away.
"Do you think you can get it going without the keys? Or should we go searching for those? I have no idea where to begin looking for that kind of thing nor do I know how we would tell the difference from all the other plane keys." Nation asked, climbing the set of stairs after Zeppelin Rocket, curious if planes even had keys for operation. Zeppelin turned around on the top of the stairs, supporting himself solely on the railing, letting his feet dangle in the air and smirked.
"Most pilots leave the important shit in the plane instead of storing it in the terminal. I mean, who is going to steal a fucking plane? Think about it. It's a lot of fucking work to get it going and one look at the control panel will drive off anyone who doesn't know what they're doing. You have to actually know what you're doing to get this thing into the air. I should be able to get this lovely thing up in the air no problem. If you could go in and fry the radar for me, then it could buy me some extra time… It's going to take me a good half an hour to prep this thing to take flight."
"A half an hour? Why does it take so damn long?"
"Pre-flight check man. I'm not an idiot. I know that if I go up there without the proper gear and supplies I'm going to crash at the end of that runway and look like an ass or worse. I'm sure this will do just fine, it looks like someone just brought her in and fueled her up and didn't have time to put her away in the hangar before the facilities closed down. You know how Better Living loves their curfews. Well, right now it's working to our advantage for once." Zeppelin Rocket opened the hatch on the plane and started examining within. "You better get going on that radar shit before it's too late. I'm going to do this as fast as I can, but I can't promise anything less than twenty minutes. After you blow the radar, go back to the girls. Those ladies shouldn't get to have any fun without you."
"Yeah, yeah… I'll head out of here before anyone gets in any trouble. Fly safe Rocky. Hopefully I'll see you on my way out of the City."
"I always fly safe, man. Hey, don't get killed following that chick okay? No chick is worth it." Zeppelin Rocket didn't turn to look at Nation as the man descended the stairs, ready to blast the radar at the opposite end of the runway. Pulling his laser gun out of his holster, Nation looked around the airstrip for the control room. Figuring the best way to fuck up the radar would be to blow the system entirely rather than fuck with the dish. It'd been a long time since Nation had gotten to use his gun appropriately without being absolutely terrified in the process so this sounded like fun. The fear of getting caught was still in his gut, but nowhere near as severely as it had been when sneaking through the City or when he'd been trying to save Fire Frenzy outside of the theater.
"Hey wait a second man!" Zeppelin Rocket came running after Nation and handed him two small folded slips of paper. "Take these to the girls, okay? Just in case… it could come in handy! Thanks man!" Zeppelin patted Nation on the shoulder before turning away and hurrying back up the stairs to work on the plane and prep it for takeoff. Nation hadn't even gotten a chance to look at the folded up pieces of paper before his friend had run off. Turning back toward the control room, Nation curiously opened the papers and laughed, seeing the words for a good time, ladies written on them and below was his transmission number. Nation tore the papers up and threw them in the trashcan outside of the door to the control room once he'd reached it.
"Marilyn's mine, man. There's no way I'm giving her that." Nation pushed open the door as quietly as he could and walked inside to find a Drac asleep at the desk in front of many screens displaying different security camera footage and one large radar screen on a separate console. Aiming his gun without hesitation, Nation fired two shots in the Drac's face and watched the spray of gore splash behind him over the propaganda posters on the wall and all over the floor. Not bothered by the mess he'd made, Nation shoved the chair that had once seated the Drac over to the side, wheeling the mess that had once been a man out of his way. Nation had never been one to be squeamish at the sight of blood which had always been an advantage for him when he'd worked undercover for Better Living Industries. He'd seen more cruel and disturbing things in those offices than anywhere else in the City.
Hunching over the computer, Nation started working on the controls to try and assess what he was looking at. Video cameras seemed to monitor the airstrip as well as the inside of the air hangars and the facilities hidden underground. Fucking Better Living and their underground shit. The only place that isn't in a cellar or basement is Central Command. I guess they must feel safer underground. Instead of blowing the radar's computer terminal, Nation decided he would alter the footage on the video cameras first. It looked like there was some kind of transmitter on the back wall and if he could trick the video into repeating a loop of previously recorded footage then no one would know that the plane from Nation was stolen until it was long gone and no one would know anything was amiss until someone came in and saw the corpse of the Drac, or what was left of it at least.
It took Death-iNation only a few minutes to figure out the secret codes and passwords to the computer system but after the last year having been spent coding and memorizing the Drac playbook he'd managed to break in far quicker than someone else without that knowledge would have. Not to mention, computers were just Death-iNation's thing. He was good with them. He was handy with most electronics, relatively charming and decent leadership skills. Not to mention he was a pretty decent kick boxer. As he listed his skills off in his head one by one he couldn't help but chuckle a bit beneath his breath at how ridiculous it seemed to be tooting his own horn in such a quiet way.
With a few clever movements at the keyboard, Nation managed to change the screens to footage from the previous days and set it to loop indefinitely so that unless checked thoroughly, no one would be the wiser. As for the radar he had a far less complex plan; Death-iNation was going to blow that to hell. He wasn't sure where else the radar satellite would transmit to but likely whoever was watching on the other end wouldn't suspect a problem with the computer itself but rather with the radar tower. If men were sent out to the radar tower, they would find nothing amiss and then continue onto the computer. This scenario left Zeppelin Rocket and Death-iNation with plenty of time to escape.
Peeking out the large front window of the building on the other side of the computer terminal, Nation saw Zeppelin Rocket warming up the engines of the plane. He could see the dual propellers spinning on either wing and knew the man would be ready for takeoff very soon. He gave his friend a thumbs up, which remained unseen but he felt better for doing it nonetheless.
"Just in time." Nation stepped a few feet back from the terminal, covered his face with his left arm and aimed the gun before shooting the radar until it whirred, smoked and turned off. The humming of the large computer in the room faded. The fate of the Killjoys in the zones was in Zeppelin Rocket's hands now. Death-iNation had to sneak back through the City and hope the girls made it safely to his apartment. Watching storm clouds on the western skyline, Nation hurried across the air strip and back through the tear in the chain link fence he'd created earlier.
Holding the chain links between his fingers he watched as the plane suddenly took action. Heart racing, he watched as it slowly began to roll forward, gain momentum, the propellers spinning so quickly they couldn't be seen clearly. Finally the wheels left the ground and the plane left the runway undisturbed. Releasing the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, Death-iNation felt secure enough to turn his back on the plane in the air. No one seemed to notice it had taken off and if they had, by the time action could be taken it would be too late.
Slowly Death-iNation took to the task of creeping back through the city streets in hopes of returning to his apartment. Once there he'd find out what Frenzy's grand scheme was for her fight against the corporation he'd played nice with for too long. If she had a good enough head on her shoulders, they'd plan their attack and either end Better Living Industries reign of terror or die in the process.
After it'd been made clear that Disco Bitch was incapable of struggling or escaping the facility a second time, she'd been thrown into a dark cell with just a toilet and the frame of a small bed with a thin cot lying on top of it as furniture. I think this would be more horrifying if I didn't feel half dead and numb. Right now, all I can think is how is this more horrifying than what I've seen? That spider webbing left blisters all over my skin, my body and mind are in such pain. I feel like I'm losing myself, so how could a dark dank cell be what puts me over the edge?
Whatever Better Living Industries had planned for her they weren't anywhere near finished it seemed but Disco Bitch wasn't na´ve. She knew each second of precious sanity in her own mind could be her last. The experiments they'd done on her after the webbing had been removed had taken nearly all of the energy she had left and she wasn't sure how she was going to survive another round. Dreading footsteps outside of her cell, Disco Bitch tried to turn her mind off to any sounds in hopes to ease the paranoia.
Fear and regret gripped the woman as she laid on the concrete floor on her stomach, head tilted to the side. Staring at the wall beneath the cot she thought she saw a spider but when she blinked there was nothing there. Was this the beginning of her descent into madness or had that happened out in the desert when she'd wounded Black Cherrybomb. She couldn't help but wonder if he was alright or if he'd died of dehydration and starvation out in the desert because he'd been incapacitated.
Or worse, maybe Korse and the Widow had sent someone after him and he was in one of the adjoining cells, suffering the same fate. I could never forgive myself if I condemned him to this when he was only trying to save me. For a second she contemplated calling out his name but then remembered that her mouth had chosen not to communicate her thoughts anymore. To distract from the disturbing thought, Disco continued to investigate her surroundings. The metallic frame of the cot was covered with a thin mattress. The bed itself seemed more like an insult to her than a comfort so she stayed on the floor, unsure if she could lift herself that far anyway. Observing her surroundings she found a small rock beneath the frame of the bed.
There was nothing particularly special about the rock but Disco felt drawn to it. Determined to grab it and investigate, she reached underneath the bed but as her fingers touched around the small stone, coal dust broke off on her fingers and she realizes it wasn't a rock at all; it was a small lump of coal or something similar.
Suddenly desperate to leave some kind of legacy behind before she'd lost everything she'd stood for Disco forced herself onto her knees and searched for something to write on with the coal-like rock. The miniscule mattress had no sheet so she couldn't use that as parchment but the toilet did have a roll of shitty single ply toilet paper provided to keep her clean and hygienic. She grabbed the roll and started to write, testing it to make sure it wouldn't rip. The single ply toilet paper kept steady and the coal substance didn't seem to smudge. It was turning out to be the perfect canvas.
There was only a moment of hesitation when the coal touched the paper as she pondered what she was going to write and who she would write to. She wasn't sure why but she thought it was appropriate to write her thoughts out as a letter. It seemed more personal to write to someone. Saying goodbye to no one seemed hollow and depressing. The first smile she'd managed to find in a very long time crossed her lips and she continued hunched over the floor with her writing, more confident than she'd been in a long time.
I never knew your real name, your favorite color, favorite food, stupid pet peeves or anything small about you but you perhaps knew me better than anyone. It sounds absurd seeing that we only knew each other for a week tops but you saw more of me than I'd let anyone see since I first met Party Poison at my shop that day in the desert so long ago when I'd been forced to join the Killjoys. You're the closest I ever came to normal and that's not something I had ever strived for or wanted to strive for. Being with you reminded me how nice normal could be. Normal had always seemed like a curse before this. Now I'm praying for normal.
She hesitated as she wrote those thoughts onto the paper. None of the words coming to her seemed like the proper thing to be said in this dire situation. These could be her last words while sane; she had to make a statement saying such.
I know that I fought you tooth and nail on the idea of normal after you shared your dream with me. I told you that I couldn't be normal, and I pushed you away when it was so obvious that we belong together. Of the many regrets I have in my life, I regret that lie more than any of the others.
On that note there are things I did in the past that I'm not proud of, things I haven't told you about but wasn't trying to hide from you and now I'm not sure you'll ever get to know them. I guess I should tell you now that I have the chance even if it's not face to face. I should at least try, before I lose everything and there's nothing left of what used to be me. Toilet paper isn't exactly the most glorified way to write you love letters but I promise that I'll do my best. I found this piece of coal so I hope it doesn't smudge too much and you can still read these after I'm gone.
I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. When you asked me what was wrong that day I didn't want to tell you how tempted I was by the alcohol in that bar so I made up something for our relationship to be a mess! Instead of trying to make what we had work, I let it crumble before it had a chance to really get started. Now, I'm out of chances and I'm sorry. I just thought you should know that of all the things I'm sorry for, that's the most important.
I always knew you didn't want me to fit your little picket fence dream and I'm sorry I even thought it. If that were the case you wouldn't have made a pass at a woman who your best friend hated with a passion and who had been sent to kill you. You gave me more chances than I ever deserved.
I'm so sorry Tiger.
Staring at the toilet paper for what felt like a very long time, Disco felt her vision obscure with tears. Somehow this letter still didn't seem like it was enough to ease the pain. She scribbled out her Killjoy name and replaced it with something that meant more to her.
Wiping tears from her cheeks, Disco Bitch slowly and carefully tore the edges of the toilet paper a few plies beneath where she'd finished the letter. She rolled the letter up and carefully stuck it within the inside pocket of her leather jacket for safe keeping. If Tiger ever found her, he could find these letters and if she was already long gone, dead or a puppet, he would know how she really felt and he would know everything he'd never known about her. Better Living Industries wouldn't have the last word in her life, even if they killed her. Her legacy would stay alive through Tiger Beatdown and the Killjoys who knew her. Staring at the toilet paper, Disco Bitch hunched over the paper again and started writing more frantically. There were so many things she wanted to tell him.
I used to use my body to get close to men to kill them, sometimes women too. I know it's not the best way to start a letter but I thought you had a right to know everything about my past. You're the only man I've given myself to in years that I didn't intend to kill. At least not after we'd made love. Also, you're the only one I've ever referred to that as "making love" with. It's probably a small consolation now that you know what I used to do but at least you know the truth now. I hope you don't hate me after learning this. I have a feeling you'd understand. I was confused for so long and at the time it didn't seem to matter. Now that I'm older, I know just how stupid it was for me to do such a thing.
Now that I'm trapped here the truth seems so much easier to let out. I don't want to lie or be hardened anymore just to keep up appearances. Even the toughest assassin secretly wants to be loved and find someone to share her life with. I wasn't thinking clearly because I was blinded by the idea that I had to be strong to last out in the desert. But damnit, Tiger, I saw a life with you. I saw everything that you saw in your heart. I saw us married, growing old, having kids, a damn dog and a small house all of our own. Hell, I could even see myself settling down for you, giving up the fighting and being barefoot and pregnant.
I love fighting this war and I love the cause we're fighting for but I love you more. I spent so many years searching for my purpose and a reason to keep living and fighting the hopeless fight against Better Living Industries. All of the things I did in hopes that I could find myself ended up destroying me further. You came along, and inadvertently you showed me exactly where I was supposed to be and exactly what I was supposed to do with my life. As corny and ridiculous as it sounds, you showed me exactly what I was missing. You gave me what I needed to fill the void inside of me. You showed me why we had to keep fighting Better Living.
Disco stopped writing once again and stared at the paper. She didn't want to overdo it with the letters but at the same time, she wanted to make sure she'd said all she'd needed to say. Repeating the tearing and rolling process with her paper, she slipped it next to the other letter inside of her hidden pocket of the leather jacket.
These images of you, images of us together, they're disappearing Tiger. I'm losing them because that spider woman is taking them from me. Better Living Industries is stealing everything I am and turning me into some hollow puppet. I'm afraid that the next time I fall asleep when I wake up, I won't remember any of what I put down on this paper.
I'm terrified that I won't remember you and if that's the case I don't want to live. If you find me and I'm not the woman you loved, please put me out of my misery. Don't let me be one of their puppets just because you think I might still be inside this hollow shell of a body somewhere. I'm not, set me free by killing what's left of me.
Tears fell freely over Disco's face and she made no effort to wipe them up. What she'd written was true. She'd been so afraid for so long to show any emotions that could make her feel weak that she'd forgotten how good it felt to cry. Who would see her and judge her now anyway? Crying her upset away, her loss? No one would see her cry and it wouldn't make her any weaker for doing so. Perhaps having shed her tears and said her goodbyes, even to the piece of toilet paper that was beginning to run short would help her be stronger against the cancer growing inside of her mind.
There is one thing they could never take away from me, one thing I will never forget. And that's that you loved me. You loved me even if you didn't tell me that you did and I knew it from the beginning. That's why you terrified me so much. I knew you loved me. I hope that even though I fought you tooth and nail on the subject you know that I loved you too. I love you with all of my heart Tiger and if I never get to tell you at least I admitted it to myself after long last.
If things get too bad here there might be some things I have to do that you won't like or approve of. I hope you can forgive me for what I know has to happen while I'm still in the right mind to do so; while I still have control over my body.
Rolling up the piece of toilet paper the way she'd done with the prior letters she slipped it into the jacket pocket and zipped it tight. Hopefully whatever happened to her in the end her jacket would at least survive and the letters would find their way to Tiger Beatdown through some stroke of luck. As improbable as it sounded, Disco had to cling to the hope that after her time on this world was done she could offer some comfort to those who remained behind to clean up the aftermath.
Hiding the charcoal within the tube of what remained of the toilet paper Disco slipped it back into place next to the toilet. Slowly she heaved herself onto the bed and laid back. The mattress was thin and offered very little comfort but it was still more comfortable than the concrete floor on her wounded back. If she could just survive a little longer, long enough to do what she knew needed to be done, she would be grateful.