Beat 80: If Only It Were Rabbit Season…
“’Now I can see your
heart’? What, is that supposed to be
your catch phrase or something?” Deirdre asked.
“Because if you ask me, it’s a pretty bad one, little boy. Even the worst pick-up line is better than
that.”
Lloyd’s finger drooped,
and he rubbed his crown sheepishly.
“Well, truth be told it’s a bit of a work in progress. Though you could argue the same about my mere
existence…but let’s not dilly-dally with semantics at the moment.” He resumed his normal posture, and gave
Deirdre a nod. “There’s a battle to be
won, after all. And it’s thanks to the
dear madam that I have just enough of a foundation for my offense.”
“So, you’re planning on
making me go gentle into the night?”
Lloyd shook his
head. “I intend to save the two of you
in one fell swoop. You are -- or at
least, I hope you are -- two halves of the same coin. To remove one is to restrict the other. Therefore, I’ve but one option.”
“And that is?”
“To reconnect the
disconnected.” Lloyd thrust his finger
at her once more. “Before this is over,
the O’Leary women shall be as one.”
“But --”
“The only ‘but’ that
I’ll accept from here on out is mine.” Deirdre snapped her fingers, and floated
slowly toward the stage. As she
departed, she left a black dot in the center of the room -- and from that dot
came a column of black wind. ”I haven’t
forgotten about you and your little foot-capades,” she said with a sneer. “So I’ll be sure to return the favor a
thousand times over. It’s time for your
punishment, boy! You’re about to start
falling for me -- permanently!”
Lloyd’s eyes shot
toward the floor. What had started as a
mere dot had long since grown into a pothole -- and in seconds’ time, that
pothole grew into a pit. It kept
spreading and spreading, throwing about black gales and letting loose a
low-pitched squeal. It didn’t even take
a minute for Lloyd to be able to peer into the pit, and see what hid within:
thorny black vines that writhed against -- and through -- the pit’s spreading
walls, no doubt looking to lay into some fresh meat. But what REALLY drew his eye lay nestled at
the pit’s bottom, despite being hundreds of feet below.
Flames. And plenty of them.
“I call it the ‘Venus
Fly Trap’,” said Deirdre. She floated
above the stage, arms crossed and shoulders rocking with quiet laughter. “You can try to hang on for as long as you want,
but eventually those arms of yours are going to give out. And when you do, your heart is gonna go all
aflutter, falling towards a death that may or may not come. Ooooh, I can only begin to imagine what kind of state you’ll be in when we finally
have our little waltz.”
“Th-this is a gross
misinterpretation of botany, ma’am!”
Lloyd shouted. The pit’s borders stretched ever further, and before long
Lloyd found himself scrambling to avoid tumbling in. He abandoned the desk and chair, and didn’t
even turn to watch them tumble into the pit.
He just scrambled for the distant wall -- if only to avoid falling in
sooner.
“There’s nowhere for
you to run, boy! You can either jump
into my arms, or fall into them!”
Lloyd pressed his back
against the wall. She’s right! Escaping from this
situation is not an option! The pit
lurched ever forward, with its edge now just a few yards away from the tips of
his toes. Her mission is to have my mind split in two. Now she has numerous ways to do so -- and I
don’t even have one! How am I supposed
to accomplish anything like this?
He sidled against the
wall, with sweat starting to pour freely from his body -- and he could only
hope the pit’s heat was to blame. Calm yourself, Lloyd. Steel your heart against whatever challenges
come your way. You have just enough to
launch your counterattack…hopefully.
“What’s wrong,
boy? Getting a little hot under the
collar?” Deirdre called out.
But in spite of
Deirdre’s jeers, Lloyd found his nerve. In terms of physical options, I only have
one. But I can see several others in relation
to my skill set. He looked up at
Deirdre with a cool gaze -- one that made the bunny-eared beauty flinch and
scowl. Every one of the O’Leary women has proven domineering and eager to
command the situation...and as a result, they’ve all been utterly
uncompromising. Therefore, if I’m to
carve out a win, I’ll have to return the favor.
Whatever advantage these women have over me, I’ve no choice but to
steal it away. And I’ll return the favor
in full. If they would seek to overwhelm
me, then I’ll overwhelm them first!
“The time has
come! Rising up to overcome any
challenge -- and piercing through whatever obstacle stands in my way! The arrow of love, embodied! Lloyd B. Hoigleheimer, going forth!” And with those bold words, he climbed slowly
and clumsily onto a few vines.
“Don’t follow up a
boast like that with something so lame!” Deirdre roared.
But Lloyd crawled in
regardless, moving with all the grace and dexterity of a crippled spider. Somehow he kept up a solid grip once deep
inside, taking hold of one massive thorn after the next; the vines’ pulsations
alternated between leading him deeper into the pit and back towards its surface
-- but more often than not, he found himself sinking further towards a fiery
death.
“So what’s the plan here,
boy? Going in deep? Or just stalling for time?”
“Survival is a top
priority, without question. But even so
--” Lloyd’s left hand slipped, and he
dangled limply from a thorn before finding a semi-solid grip. “Even so, now is no time to rely on my feeble
defenses. It’s time for my counterattack
-- and I intend to strike true.”
“Easier said than done,
boy.”
“But that’s precisely
it. My only weapon may be my words, but
my words are all I need to win the day.”
He swung to his right, switching over to a new column of vines before
the old one could cart him into the pit.
“It’s all beginning to make sense.
I was under the impression that you were doing your best to overwhelm me
-- when in reality, the one who’s truly been overwhelmed for untold ages is
you.”
“It’s like you’re
getting worse and worse at romancing a lady,” Deirdre said with an aside
glance.
“You’ve been getting
more offensive, and more aggressive, since the start. If you’re the one responsible for giving the
real-world Miss O’Leary the consul she’s taken to heart -- becoming a would-be
commando and arming herself with weaponry, all for the sake of pursuing me -- then
clearly, you’ve been in danger well before our first meeting. I may be threatening you more directly with
my presence here, on this day, but in reality your life has been on the line
for quite a while.”
Deirdre shrugged and
shook her head slowly. “Sticks and
stones, boy. Sticks and stones. And honestly, I’m getting tired of playing
these games with you. So, I think it’s
about time for me to wrap this up.” She
spun a finger through the air, and the pit’s walls began to rumble. “And since you love your words so much, I’ll do you a favor and wrap this up literally.”
Lloyd peeked over his
shoulder. Sure enough, vines -- flaming vines -- rocketed towards him
from the opposite wall. With a yelp like
a frightened Chihuahua, he dropped lower into the pit and scrambled to his
left; the vines sailed overhead and hit the wall with a spark-flinging slam,
with a few embers making their way to Lloyd’s arms. In spite of the searing that followed, he
kept moving -- climbing, dropping, and yelping as vine after vine came at him.
“Oooh, I like a man
who’s flexible,” Deirdre said with a smirk.
“But how long can you last?”
“Long enough to make a
claim,” Lloyd answered with a smile -- though if it could, his body would have
let out a wail. “You were created for a
reason -- to serve the real Miss O’Leary in a way that no one else could. Where her mother failed, you would succeed. You would be there for her, as an immutable
and ever-enduring part of her, ready to serve and eager to bring about a smile.
At least, that was the intention from the outset. But something along the line changed.”
Deirdre winced -- and
the vine that screamed toward Lloyd slowed down just enough to miss turning him
into a human slot machine. “What are you
getting at?”
“You must have realized
it yourself. Miss O’Leary is getting
older. Her tastes have changed. Her preferences have changed. Her desires have changed. You are, at best, a holdover -- a relic of
the past that can only grow so much in tandem with your creator. Put simply, you are an imaginary friend --
the sort of friend that every child inevitably sets aside at one point. You’re merely delaying the inevitable as best
you can.”
Another wince;
Deirdre’s smirk grew taut and thin, and her vines missed their mark by a
widening margin. “So what? If you say that’s something I already knew,
then what’s the point? Talk fast!”
“My point is that
you’re forcing your way into your other self’s life as best you can. Sabotaging her life. Forcing her to fall from grace. Putting her in the same mindset she had as a
first grade student -- that the only one she can turn to for support is you. You want her to remain in stasis…and if the
opportunity arises, you’ll take her life for yourself. But there’s an inherent flaw with your
plan. Something that you have not -- or
perhaps cannot perceive.”
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
Lloyd took a moment to catch
his breath, all too aware that he’d actually earned the luxury. The flaming vines kept coming, but by that
point they could hardly get within six feet of him; more than a few of them
swiped impotently at the walls rather than thrust inward. “There’s little doubt that you’re an
idealized form of Miss O’Leary -- a version of her that could be, given the
proper treatment. And indeed, you’ve
gained some semblance of independence from her, and would love nothing more
than to stage a coup against her. But
that is precisely the problem: you have only a semblance of independence.
Try as you might, you will always be connected to her -- unable to sever
the bond yourself, but more than capable of being erased on a whim by your
master.”
“Get to the point already! Or do you not have one? Or are you just enjoying talking around in
circles? What is it, huh? Got nothing to say, you little bastard?”
Lloyd shook his
head. “There are three important points
to remember thanks to your connection.
The first is that whether you realize it or not, whatever harm you do to
Miss O’Leary is harm done to yourself.
The second: that in your quest for independence and control, you’ve
tried to sever the bond between the two of you…and as such, you’re relying on a
nature -- an inherent code built into your heart -- that is by default full of
exploitable holes. The third, and most
vital of all, is a simple one: undeniably, you’re as fragile as you make your
host out to be. Maybe more; at least she
acknowledges it.”
Deirdre’s grin had long
since started to waver, and even with the distance between them Lloyd could
hear a growl forcing its way through her throat. “Oh yeah?
Pretty bold claims for a little boy!
But it doesn’t matter how much you try to talk your way out of this --
when it comes down to it, you don’t have a shred of proof, sweet cheeks! Why the hell should I EVER take your words
seriously?”
Lloyd gave her a quick
answer. He pulled a hand away from the
wall and pointed ahead -- to the opposite wall, where so many flaming vines had
erupted. Two in particular had caught
his eye, and Deirdre’s shortly after.
They burned brighter than all the rest, with flames that could melt an
iceberg -- but based on their angles, they had no intention of going after
Lloyd.
They were aimed at
Deirdre.
“We aren’t alone in
here,” said Lloyd. “But that’s only a
facet of your coming defeat.”
TO BE HEARTINUED…
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