Vice Inferno Pt. 01

Author's note: A victim with a vendetta, a bully with a conscious, and the degenerates that want it all. Part one of a new series.

Her hair was shorter now. Lighter. She'd grown a little taller too. It was starting to feel like something new.

Charlie flipped on the lights in a large dimly lit room and watched as shimmering clouds of dust settled across the various art supplies and equipment laid strewn everywhere. The studio was empty save for the comforting early morning light that snaked down from the skylights above. It covered the studio in a creamy haze.

Charlie set her things down at a table nearby and began the routine she'd made up for herself since final projects had been posted months ago.

Bright and early, day in and day out and, most importantly, ALWAYS before any other students would show up - she was working. Something Charlie had always done her whole life. However, this time, it was different. This time she was working for herself.

It'd already been a year and a half since Charlie got accepted into the art school of her dreams - far away from anything resembling her old life. It was almost hard to believe. She let out a contented sigh and pulled her hair up into a loose ponytail and set to work.

Among the clutter of murky palettes, glass jars, weathered brushes, and the various projects of other students in the grand studio, Charlie pulled down a sheet; unveiling a large canvas in the back corner. She eyed at its center, glancing over each stroke, and criticizing every weight of color on the smooth surface. Months of work and sleepless nights presented itself to Charlie, and even still, she felt it wasn't ready.

It was still missing something...but she didn't know what. She felt she was nearly on the cusp of a breakthrough, and yet, stuck halfway. It was only a matter of time, though. She was on a roll.

There was nothing in her way now. Nobody to stop her or tell her what to do. She was free.

Charlie grimaced before she could stop herself. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think of something else. Things she thought she buried began to swell up from the dirt again. Even now, she was still affected.

Memories can be so cruel, sometimes.

It frustrated her how much emotion she still had whenever she thought about it. Why couldn't she have just left it behind along with everything else? At this point, the power it had over her was starting to become annoying.

Even when she drowned herself in school and work, it wouldn't go away.

Suddenly, a soft sound from behind her snapped her out of her thoughts and she quickly turned. She saw an unfamiliar face at the door. A girl.

"Wow, I'm pretty sure I was being extra quiet, too. You got elephant ears underneath that paint brush?" The stranger called out to her.

Charlie's ear instinctively perked up against the paint brush she had perched above it. She squinted and gave the stranger a once over and wondered why she looked so familiar, considering she'd never spoken to the girl before. Probably. Charlie had a bad memory.

"Or do you have a reason to be looking over your shoulder?"

Charlie snapped her eyes back up to the strangers when she spoke again - taken aback by the remark - and found them staring right back at her. "What did you say?"

The girl let out a light chuckle, "not a fan of jokes, I see. Only kidding. I'm just here for my pen," she reached over a pile of papers and picked up something off one of the tables. "Charlie, right?"

"Do I know you?"

"Diane Sumner. You're a little bit of a giant in the art department. I hear the paint guys hate you."

"Right," Charlie trailed off unamused, "I'm sorry, I'm kind of in the middle of something."

"Oh, don't mind me. Didn't mean to disturb you. Is that one yours?" Diane carried on, pointing at the canvas behind Charlie.

Charlie glanced at her painting and then back to Diane; floored by the girl's blatant disregard for anything she was saying. "...Yeah."

"It's beautiful," she lifted up her pen in front of her face and squinted an eye as if she was measuring the canvas from where she stood, "too bad, though."

"What is?"

Diane smiled, "it's boring."

Charlie was stunned. Then she felt the anger next. "What the hell would you know?"

"Oh c'mon, don't tell me it's finished then?"

"Of course no-"

"And it won't be," Diane interrupted, "if you keep lying to yourself. It's why you're stuck, right? You can't move forward and you obviously can't go back. Maybe you should be more honest. I think that painting would appreciate it."

Was she really getting unsolicited advice from a stranger at 5 in the morning?

"I'm fine, thanks for the concern." Charlie tried her best not to get too carried away with her emotions and to brush her off firmly. Truth be told, her words were hitting too close to home. What the hell did she even know, anyway?

Diane just smiled. "Looking forward to the final product. See ya around, Charlie."

And just like that, the strange girl was gone just as quickly as she showed up. Charlie hoped immersing herself in her work for the next couple hours would put her in a better mood after whatever...that was.

Now that she thought about it, she had seen that girl before. Only in passing, however. They weren't even in the same class. After today though, she planned on steering clear.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise to her when she walked off campus after classes ended, still unsettled. Not because of that girl, but because of what she said. She wasn't lying to herself. Everything she felt and everything she worked hard for was as real and sincere as the damn ground she walked on. She fled away from the lies a long time ago.

And yet, why?

Why didn't she believe it herself?

She decided a smoothie would probably make her feel better.

She sat across from a busy park, sipping her berry smoothie, and watched as the world passed by. The sun was high, even in the evening dust, and the people...perpetual. Without her, they'd keep going and the world would keep spinning. She felt content at the thought.

Suddenly, something came flying and skidded across the gravel just a few feet away from where she sat on the bench. It was a phone. Scratched and shattered now.

Charlie looked up and saw a pair of women coming her way. One of them was in a slim fitted indigo suit. The other one...well, the best way Charlie could describe her - upset? She watched as the tall woman in the suit calmly walked over and gracefully picked up the cracked phone.

"Sorry for the scare." The strange woman spoke. Charlie began to reassure her it was fine until she realized she recognized the voice. She glanced up once again at the woman and felt a cold invisible grip tighten around her throat and pull it down to the pits of her stomach.

"Charlie? Is that really you?" The woman asked. Suddenly, the other woman, who'd been trying to keep up with the bigger strides of the woman in the suit, came around her and slapped her in the face. The suddenness of the assault shocked Charlie even more into silence.

"Fuck you! Who do you think you are, huh? How could you do that to me!? I've seen everything!" Screamed the upset woman. Her pretty face was twisted in anger and her makeup started to smear against the tears. She glanced at Charlie and that seemed to upset her more. "Who the fuck is this? Another one of your whores?!"

The woman in the suit hadn't even flinched when she hit her. In fact, she was completely stoic. She pocketed her phone, straightened out her silk blazer, and pierced the other woman with daggers in her eyes. "Enough, Julia. You're unsightly. If you had any sense, I'd take whatever's left of daddy's trust fund and build that YouTube channel of yours."

The woman seemed confused. "What are you talking about?"

"The company's partnership has been nullified. Your father no longer owns any stocks with us anymore. His embezzlement of assets over the past two years has been quite troublesome, after all. Now that the evidence has been compiled, you're useless to me. You should call your father's financial advisor about bankruptcy options."

The other woman nearly collapsed there on the street; sobbing. "Wh-what...but...Brook...I love you..."

"Don't call me," Brook looked down on the woman, "and please refrain from showing up on company property. You will be escorted and charged with trespassing."

The devastation on the woman's face nearly matched Charlie's. She ran away in hysterics, presumably from the utter shame and humiliation, leaving the two of them alone.

Charlie tried to run too. She begged and willed her feet to move but she was paralyzed. Fear anchored her there - a fear she thought she'd forgotten. And anger.

The woman in the suit spoke through the silence. "It's been a long time. How are you?"

Charlie tried desperately to swallow the lump caught in her throat - to tell her to leave her alone - but all she could muster was a ragged breath. When she did find her voice, it was low and quiet. "Get away from me, Brook."

She sounded so small.

The pupils in Brook's eyes widened at the harsh words and she let herself grin. "Still as lovely as ever. It's nice to see you, too."

Charlie's feet finally found the courage to move. Abruptly, she stood up and tried to walk as fast as she could without breaking into a full run. She needed to hold onto at least some of her dignity. But, as she walked away, she could feel Brook had moved too and was following along quietly.

It only took rounding the corner for her to give up and face the damned woman again. Such an irritating person. Charlie turned around quickly; prompting Brook to stop and smile at her. "Stop following me. Don't you have somewhere to be? I said to leave me alone."

Brook just shrugged. "I've been given an unexpected early release from work, so no. Don't be so harsh, Charlie. Is that how you treat an old friend?"

"Is that what we are?" Charlie scoffed - she almost couldn't believe her ears."You think we're friends? You think I want anything to do with you? After everything you've done to me? Don't speak to me about treatment. Clearly, the people around you are still so expendable. Was it really necessary for you to humiliate that girl? I have nothing to say to you."

Charlie could feel her whole body trembling with every outburst. As much venom she could spit at Brook, there was still some part of her that was afraid of actually pissing her off.

Brook just stared at her without a word. Charlie couldn't read the look on her face. She never could. She felt herself already regretting her big mouth.

"Don't forget the things you've done," Brook said flatly, "and the things we've done together. I've made peace with who I am a long time ago. Can you say the same for yourself? Julia and her family of thieves got what they deserved. That has nothing to do with you."

Brook stepped in closer to Charlie as she spoke. So close she was practically a breath away. Charlie tried to regain her composure.

"I did what I had to do. Dealing with you, it's all we can do. Isn't it? You don't care about anyone, so please, enough. It's sickening."

Before she could let Brook insert herself again, she quickly turned around and didn't look back. Out of her bag and out of sight, a single pen rolled out onto the ground.

Noticing it, Brook gently picked it up. One glance and she realized the pen had a university name on it. She pocketed it and watched stoically as Charlie ran from her.

~~~

"Stay still you fucking idiot!"

Charlie flinched and tried to steady herself as she stood in front of the soccer net. The gym teacher hadn't noticed. No one had noticed. Or maybe they just didn't care.

A soccer ball whizzed past her - barely missing her head - and flung rapidly into the net behind her.

"You missed?! How the fuck did you miss? She's standing still, you moron!" One of the girls laughed.

"Fuck off, she moved outta the way," the girl kicking the ball snapped back. She glared at Charlie and pointed to where she stood, "I said stay still, bitch. Or I kick your fucking head in, instead. Got it? Hurry up and give me the ball."

Charlie could hardly breathe. Despite it being hot out, she felt a sickly cold numbness washing over her. She nearly collapsed when she bent down to pick up the ball. Her knees were trembling and she was sore all over her body.

This had been going on for the last hour and no one had bothered to notice. They were supposed to be playing a mini game of soccer, but instead, these girls were playing target practice with Charlie's head.

She had the unfortunate luck of being teamed up with the very people who had been making her life a living hell for the past six months. She couldn't even beg the teacher to place her in another team before they'd ganged up on her to shut her up.

Suddenly, somebody stepped up beside the girl who had been kicking the ball and Charlie's insides curled when she saw who it was.

"Move. My turn." Brook demanded. She shoved the smaller girl next to her with ease, grabbed the ball, and dropped it right at her feet. When she glanced up at Charlie, she grinned a nasty grin. Charlie froze in fear.

Taking a step back, Brook charged up for a kick and swung her foot; sending the ball spinning straight towards the quivering girl in front of the net. She'd kicked it with so much force and power that it'd made a whizzing sound when it left the ground.

Charlie closed her eyes, but it didn't matter. It didn't lessen the pain when the ball smacked her right in the face and threw her back into the mess of the net. A blur of bright hot lights soared across her vision and her head rang back and forth with an intense and evil throbbing. She was certain her nose had been broken just now, or at least that she'd suffered a concussion.

"Holy shit, Brook! You almost took off her head!" One of the girls laughed. They all jeered and guffawed; mocking Charlie's crumpled body.

She couldn't see them laughing at her, she could barely see her hands in front of her face. But she could hear them. Amidst the whistle of the wind, the chirping of birds, and the noise of the other students, she could hear them laughing loud and clear.

It echoed all around her and seeped into her ears.

She curled tighter into her ball and tried to hold back her tears. If she started crying now while she could hardly take back her breath, she was sure to choke on the blood and saliva dripping from her chin. The familiar taste of copper filling her mouth gave away the bloody nose that poured down her face. She willed herself not to cry.

Suddenly, she felt a presence standing beside her and then, without warning, she was yanked up by her hair. Instinctively, Charlie grabbed at the hand and winced as she was made to look into the eyes of her tormentor.

Brook stared down at her with indifference. "Don't make a scene. Wipe your fucking nose and get up." Her eyes were cold as she said it. Even in the pool of the sun that glittered her brown eyes a warm honey gold, they were utterly and deeply cold. They made Charlie shiver.

She softened her grip on Charlie's hair; whom elicited a moan of relief as her burning scalp cooled just a bit. Then, Brook raised both her hands above Charlie's head, making her flinch.

But no pain came. Instead, she felt Brook gently straighten out her tousled hair and adjust the yellow jersey that had been thrown about her small frame during the entire ordeal.

Charlie opened her eyes to Brook brushing off her shoulders.

"Can't have you looking like shit during the last stretches. Someone might ask what's wrong. We don't want that, do we?" Brook stated. Abruptly, she grabbed Charlie by the mouth and leaned in closer. Blood from Charlie's still pouring nose squelched as she squeezed tighter. "You say anything and I'll kill you."

With one motion, she reached under Charlie's jersey and wiped the blood off her hand onto the inside of the shirt and shoved her away. Charlie grunted and tried not to fall as she watched Brook saunter back to her friends.

The tears that threatened to fall stung Charlie's eyes red. She wiped her nose and took a deep breath.

Why was this happening?

~~~

It'd been a couple of days since Charlie made a mental note to stop going to that smoothie shop. What did it matter anymore, anyway? The days warped together now. Time, apparently, was never on Charlie's side.

How could this happen? Many things ran through Charlie's mind, none of which were comforting in the wake of Brook's sudden appearance.

But one thing she couldn't stop mulling over was why. She'd tried so hard to be as far away as possible from Brook. To wash her hands of her. Why would she be here in this place, in this damn city, anywhere near the east coast?

Born in the suburbs of a miserable sleepy city somewhere in the Midwest, it wasn't much of a place for dreams.

Hell, even Charlie's parents expected nothing less from her. Moving up in life looked like a 9-5 at a corporate office and someone's little wife. If she finished high school, that was a plus.

In other words, it didn't leave Charlie sore or tearful when she finally left for good. People were disappointing. Who would've known she needed to cross seas for good measure.

Charlie could barely recall the morning she had. She wasn't even sure if she spent it working on her project or staring blankly at it. By the time classes were over, she was tripping over her paint brushes that were somehow pouring out of her art supply case.

In her daze, she hadn't noticed how loosely she tied it and now she was putting on a show for everyone on campus to gawk at.

She sighed in frustration and bent down to gather her tools. She had to get on her knees to reach the ones that'd scattered under bushes. Ever so slightly, the bottom of her shirt lifted; revealing inches of her smooth backside.

"Be careful, you'd think the misogyny would end in an art school, but instead of assholes they call themselves 'nice guys' here."

Charlie spun around at the voice. Diane grinned as their eyes met. She followed the girl's green eyes that urged her attention to her shirt. It'd ridden just above her back dimples. Charlie pulled it down quickly and went back to what she was doing.

Maybe if she ignored her, she'd take the hint.

She picked up the last of her brushes but noticed her favorite one was missing. It was old, the handle thicker than most brushes, and it was a little crooked in shape from countless nights of artists' passion so they might say.

"This ones got a story," interrupted Diane; prompting Charlie to glance over at her favorite brush in the girl's hands, "I wonder what the bumps and bruises have to say."

Charlie reached for the brush but grasped nothing when Diane playfully retracted her hand. Wisps of Diane's cream blonde hair danced around her shoulder as her messy bun bounced in place. "Woah, pretty handsy, aren't you? Girls generally like being taken out before any touching."

Charlie just grunted. "Give it back."

Diane smiled bigger. "Didn't know the great painter was such a stiff. I think you meant to say 'thank you'."

Reluctantly, Charlie obliged. She supposed the girl did find it for her. "Thanks. Give it back."

"You're just a ray of sunshine, aren't you? Isn't it exhausting being the lonely prodigy? Or do you like the attention?"

To be honest, Charlie never really understood half of the things Diane said to her. She spoke so candidly that Charlie could never tell whether she was being rude or an idiot.

One thing she could say for sure: she didn't like her.

"I'm not a prodigy," Charlie stepped closer to Diane and grabbed the brush right out of her hand, "and I don't care." She turned around and headed for the campus gates.

"Really? Self-taught? Wow, Charlie, I didn't think you had it in you. Your fellow peers aren't gonna like it when they find out it's because they don't try hard enough." Diane chatted as she walked along.