Chapter 71 - Callahan

The villain always makes a quick comeback.

F or the first time in days, I had clarity for longer than a moment while I was coming. I dropped Myrtle's hand. She was alive. This entire time. What did I do? I looked around the back. The hook was firmly lodged in her skull. If I took her off the hook, would she be released into death? Or was it best to leave her there?

No, she was trapped in limbo the way she was. I reached for her, but then the voices returned.

Leave her be. You need to return to bed. Riot and Eleanor are waiting for you.

No! I can't. I wrapped my arms around her waist. The voices screamed at me in furious protest. I closed my eyes, trying to fight through the pain. My head was splitting open. I couldn't take it anymore. Using all my strength, I lifted Myrtle off the hook. It made a sickening wet sound as I did so, and I dropped her to the floor, abandoning her to stalk over to the bed. I woke up Eleanor, rolling her onto my lap. I slid into her with ease and she bounced on my lap, eager to get her next release.

The voices ceased and I could breathe again, however, while kissing Eleanor, our tongues mixing together, I forgot about what I'd just done. My back was facing away from the wall I'd just pulled Myrtle from, and I only realized when Eleanor stopped kissing me and her eyes grew wide as she stared at something behind me.

I turned and was smacked hard with something, causing me to fall to the bed, my head spinning.

"Cal!" Eleanor screamed. She scrambled off the bed and I sat up, dizzy. Riot bolted up out of sleep and looked around. What the hell just happened? My head was rolling as I tried to steady myself.

"You bastards," Myrtle snapped.

"How?" Eleanor cried out. She ran to her clothes, pulling on her dress. Myrtle wasn't paying her any mind. She was focused on me. As was the board in her hand. She'd pulled it off the wall.

"I told you, I can't die. I stopped aging almost 30 years ago. I've been stuck to that wall for days, being forced to— to?—"

"To what?" Eleanor smirked. "Do exactly what you planned for me? Don't like it when your own forms of torture are used on you, mother?"

"Don't call me that. You're no daughter of mine."

"Thank Atlas Adam for that," Eleanor grinned.

I smiled, so proud of her. She was a regular wasteland babe now.

Myrtle raised the plank again, preparing to swing at my face.

I ducked, and suddenly a loud bang rang out throughout the room and Myrtle dropped. I blinked rapidly, the ringing in my ears causing confusion as I stared at the space behind Myrtle. Riot stood there, pants on for the first time in days, holding a gun.

Myrtle jerked around on the floor, but if a hook to the brain hadn't killed her, I knew this one wouldn't either.

I stepped over her, going to my own clothes. My cock was still hard and it fought against the pants, but we had to figure something out.

Take her too. Four is a party.

Hell no. I'd shoot myself before I allowed my cock anywhere near Myrtle. I wondered for a moment what would happen if I shot my cock off. Would the drugs raging inside me stop? Or would I just be dickless with the need to come driving me to insanity?

Myrtle slowly got to her feet. Her belly now stained with a hole of blood. She laughed. "I'm already healing. What a waste of a bullet."

"You lied," Eleanor interrupted. She pulled something from her pocket, a small square. "You said no one ever loved you. But someone did. Hank."

Hank? That was my father's name. I hadn't seen him in years. Eleanor nodded, as if reading my mind.

"Yes, Myrtle and your father were in love, but they couldn't be together. She lied about how she'd plotted against us. He told her that you were his son, and she plotted to make you her lover. Myrtle, you're sick. You need help."

Myrtle's face paled as she stared at the item in Eleanor's hand.

"You little bitch. Give that back," she snarled.

"Actually, if you ask around, I'm more of a brat." Eleanor walked over to her, and shoved Myrtle's shoulders. "Or even a cunt, at times."

Riot and I stared, silently observing the interactions, while the voices in our heads screamed at us.

Imagine them together, mother and daughter. Wouldn't that be fun? Have you seen two women together before? I bet you'd like that. I'm sure they'd let you join in.

The voices were so loud I dropped to the floor. I fought against my arms to reach between my legs and stroke myself while I watched them. This was sick. I couldn't do this anymore. Someone, please, save us. I pleaded.

No one's going to save you. Just embrace it. You'll like it so much better that way.

Riot seemed to be struggling just as hard as I was. He stormed to the bathroom and slammed the door.

Eleanor and Myrtle were fighting. They punched, kicked, and scratched each other. I finally managed to stand and was halfway across the room, heading to break them up when the exit door opened with a loud creek.

We all stopped and stared as a figure stepped inside, carrying a suitcase similar to Myrtle's.

Gary looked around the room, a polite smile on his face. He lifted the suitcase and nodded to us.

"Hello, would you like some help?"