Chapter 8:

The One Who Sits On The Throne Of Evil Is A Man

ULTRAVIOLENCE

“Turn down the music, Rose!” Could be heard beyond the thin wall.

How Soon Is Now? By The Smiths blasted through her speakers, a gift from her sister a few years ago. She was much too busy cleaning her revolver, making sure it shot perfectly. She aimed the weapon to see how good the sights were.

Rose’s room was a relic, a time capsule of what used to be. When she was just a little girl with her big sis against the world. The walls were pink, with posters of albums of different bands she was into. Rosario got too rough for the whole family financially, but Rose was so young. She could not remember, but she could feel the stress that everyone felt. Everyone’s future depended on a drastic decision. Tiffany took her sister and moved across the country, settling in Mexico. They were fine, living peacefully in Tijuana for a while. Tiffany wanted more. She wanted to thrive, not only for herself but for Rose. She doesn’t deserve the bare minimum. So, after calling in a few favors, they took a boat and immigrated to America, settling in New York.

Tiffany burst into her room. “Rose. Music.”

Rose snapped out of her trance and set the gun down, turning the song down.

Tiffany noticed the weapon and sighed. “Why do you insist on bringing a fucking gun everywhere?”

Rose sighed. She’d been through this before. “It makes me feel–”

“Safe,” Tiffany finished. “From who?”

“I dunno… Robbers?” She said, chewing her thumb. It was a half truth. The real reason was something she could not explain. When there’s a man in the house, she makes sure to keep her guard up.

Rose always had an uncomfortable time with men, even as young as 13. In Mexico, some unsavory men tried to make a pass at her, not exactly asking (or caring) for an age. She got uncomfortable comments from them as she got bigger, ironically making her want to eat more. She didn’t dare want to be seen as attractive to them. She was a lesbian, more so due to the disdain she had for the opposite gender than her love for women. Though, she did have a few crushes as she arrived in America.

“Robbers?” Tiffany rolled her eyes at the answer, knowing when her sister isn’t completely honest. “Whatever. Just keep that in your room, yes?” With that, she left the room.

Rose sighed. She loved her sister, but Tiffany couldn’t understand. It was complicated, messy, and it varied on misandry. Not that they didn’t deserve the distrust. Rose could only name on one hand the men who were nice to her. Thankfully one of them was Jackie. He was self aware enough to realize she wasn’t the talkative type. She felt a little guilt sometimes. He was trying. He was far from a bastard. But the most dangerous ones start out as kind.

She opened her laptop, some thick gray slab of technology, and began to go on the internet. She had to beg Tiffany to pay for the internet with cable. She wasn’t big on surfing on a computer, opting to “do everything on her phone anyway.”

She had business. She was involved in the Women of New York, or WNY, an organization dedicated to protecting women and girls from the dangers that New York poses. The city was cruel and cold, some people needed safety nets every now and then. While Rose never attended a meeting in person she was dedicated to the cause. Helping with all things internet. Making websites, sending emails, and video chatting with the leader, Marloe Foxx.

Marloe, a woman in her mid thirties, looked beautiful as ever as she showed up on the webcam screen, answering Rose’s call. Her bushy curly brown hair flowed to her shoulders. Her dark skin was slick and free of blemish. Her full lips curled into a frown as she struggled to make the webcam focus. She sucked her teeth in frustration. “Damn it. Can you see me, Rose?”

She nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Marloe laughed. “I told you girl, you can just call me Marloe. Loe if you’re feeling real casual. I’m not your boss.”

Rose let a nervous chuckle loose as she adjusted herself in her bed, still sitting upright at attention. “It feels like it. You tell me what to do, and I listen.”

“True, but you’re volunteering. I may be the director, true, but we’re all working to keep our girls safe. And you saved a lot of lives, Rose.”

Rose’s cheeks flushed, but the webcam was thankfully too shit to allow Marloe to see it. This woman had her in a mental choke hold. “T-Thank you. It’s no biggie, I promise.”

“Sure,” Marloe said. “We’d love to see you in person sometime Rose. I’d even pay for the fares.”

Rose’s face twisted in thought. She hated being seen. She rather have one, maybe two eyes on her at a time, but a crowd? It would be like throwing a lamb to slaughter. But Marloe made the request, no way she could say no. “Maybe… But no promises.” As she said that, a message notification pops on the side of her screen. WeChat, the popular directing messaging app tells her Caleb is online. She had more business to take care of. “Hey, Marloe. I gotta go. Email me the next meeting date, I can try my best to show up.”

Marloe nodded in agreement. “Right away. Take care, Rose.”

They hang up, and she opens WeChat to begin messaging Caleb, under a fake name, Kelly.

Caleb: Still can’t stop thinking about ur gift

Kelly: Of course ;) anything 4 u

Caleb: When can i see u??

Kelly: Soon trust me. I just need to make the trip, but it will be soon

Caleb: good. Im going to a halloween party on friday

Kelly: oh yeah? Who u goin as?

Caleb: [Image of Caleb in a werewolf costume]

Kelly: hot!

Caleb: You know what else is hot?

Caleb: [image of Caleb’s penis]