Wrong Room

"...Was a copy right editor," Perry said coldly.

"Jesus Christ!" Mandy shouted at him, "Did you have to cut it so close?"

"My apologies, Amanda."

She looked at Roy Bannon. A small, red hole in the center of his forehead oozed blood in a steady trickle. The room had turned a sick red color as blood coated the lampshade. His beady eyes were wide open and that funny little smile, curved in anticipation of fondling her breasts was still happily displayed. Mandy felt like screaming as the reality of it all came crashing down on her. She looked into his glassy orbs once more and then turned to Perry.

"Who the fuck was this guy, Perry?" she demanded and stood up. She reached for her top but found it was soaked with blood.

"He's dead now," Perry said.

"This is a dangerous man?" Mandy pointed at him, "I doubt this guy has ever seen a girl naked let alone touched one."

"Calm yourself, Ms. Moon," Perry looked at her and smiled, "Hold this please."

Mandy took the gun from his gloved hand and held it as he walked around to the far side of the bed and leaned over Roy Bannon's corpse. He looked around, appraising the body and inspecting his handiwork. A heartless smile crossed his face that made Mandy feel so uneasy. She stood back, watching the killer inspect his prey. He looked up at her, "Not what you expected?"

"No," she shivered, "But can we just go now- what did you call me?"

"That is your pen name, yes? Amanda Moon?"

Mandy asked, "How did you know that?"

Perry said, "You mentioned it earlier."

"Did I?" she frowned, knowing damned good and well she hadn't.

"There is one more little detail, though Amanda."

"What?"

"Well, don't you think the hotel manager is going to have questions about a dead body in the room he rented to you?"

"Why-" she began and then stopped. She hadn't even thought about that. Mandy suddenly felt the bottom of her stomach fall out and splash her intestines as she began to grasp the truth. Her world was spinning and suddenly she felt very sick.

"Amanda," Perry leaned back against the wall opposite the bed, "You're a very smart woman, and a wildcat in the sack. Having read some of your books, I can say that while you're very gifted in your craft, you're also hopelessly naive."

"What are you saying?" she whispered.

"Remember how I told you that your only fault was that you were too classy?"

Mandy couldn't breath.

"I was wrong," he shook his head, "You're so fucking naive."

"But Perry-"

"I know your husband is an asshole because when he contracted me for this job, I wondered what a woman could have done to anger her husband to the point of murder," Perry looked at her sympathetically, "I mean, I've executed a lot of spouses, but all of them had been guilty of cheating or some other horrible offense. Usually, there was some rhyme to the reason. But with you, I just couldn't figure it out."

Mandy reached for the nightstand and then felt her legs give out underneath her. The gun fell from her hand as the room began to spin. Her brain tried desperately to jump-start her failing body, but her limbs were rubbery and useless. The gun fell to the floor. A foul, metallic taste was forming in the back of her throat. Her vision began to separate and double. Two sets of Perry's walked towards her, the voices layered and in the red light of the room like a demon's hellish rumble.

"I've been following you since you and Carl had your fight. You know what I realized?" he asked her as he knelt down beside her on the bed, "Carl beat you because he was afraid of you. He was afraid of losing you. He was so afraid of losing you he'd rather see you dead than with another man."

"There was never anyone watching the hotel," she mumbled, her mouth stuffed with invisible desert cotton.

"No, there wasn't," Perry picked up the gun

"You fucker..."

"Not that I can blame Carl for being worried," Perry admitted, "You are one gorgeous woman, no doubt. You probably don't notice when men look you over and fantasize about fucking you, Amanda. You're oblivious."

Mandy felt sick to her stomach as her body rebelled against her.

"A man's gotta protect his investment, though..."

Mandy felt as though she were floating away. She tried to focus, to clarify her surroundings and control her body.

"... and you are a fantastic fuck, Amanda. Hell, I haven't been screwed like that since last week."

Mandy looked into an unfocused chasm of hot colors, "You mother fucker..."

"I can't deny it Amanda," Perry sighed and touched her cheek, "But believe me when I say that of all my assignments, of all the jobs I've taken you're the only one I ever considered walking out on. You are a unique woman. Carl has his faults, but he was at least right about that. You are unique."

Her eyes rolled wetly to Roy, "... him... who is he?"

"Roy?" Perry laughed, "He was just some guy I found outside one of the local porn shops about fifteen minutes before I came here. Like I said, I'd been tailing you since your husband hired me for the job so I didn't have a whole hell of a lot of prep time. Once I knew what hotel you had checked into, I had to have a reason for you to make the setup for me."

Mandy burned with impotent anger.

"You see," Perry explained, "Let's say Roy here discovered that you were actually Amanda Moon, the aggressive, best-selling novelist that some say has single-handedly started a new movement in feministic idealism. Roy threatens to go public with this information, so you fly here to meet him and negotiate, because let's face it, you're nowhere close to being the woman who puts the pen to paper. You're desperate to keep him silent, even to the point of seduction. And Roy, being Roy, is only too willing to take it that far. But in the midst of your 'negotiations' something goes wrong and a violent fight erupts in which Roy punches you in the face..."

Mandy reeled back hard against the nightstand as Perry slugged her, the knuckles of his right hand connecting with her temple in a painfully furious hit. Stars and bright light exploded in her field of vision as she tried to recover, her hands dumbly reaching for her face.

"... and then he grabs at you," Perry continued, clenching both hands to her tits and squeezing them hard enough to make her cry out. She batted at him uselessly as he continued, "And old Roy even tried to shoot you."

Mandy screamed out as Perry shot one round into her thigh. The bullet passed through the meat and lodged in the floor. She fell back on the carpet as the hitman pulled at her thong, tearing at the lace and cutting into her skin. He rolled her on the ground, banging her back and forth. With a mighty throw, he heaved her by a handful of her hair towards the bed. She fell on the mattress and laid there, her body and mind shutting down.

"Thankfully," Perry stood up and placed the gun back in her hand, "It was only a flesh wound and in the struggle to survive you wrestled the gun from his hand. Unfortunately, you had partaken of some alcohol earlier that was laced with a very strong sedative that had impaired your ability to just wound him. Maybe Roy had more on his mind than just talking it out to begin with. You shot him in the head, a one in a million kill shot and what a glorious shot it was."

Mandy struggled to remain conscious.

"So, the great Amanda Moon aka Mandy Fisher is found dead the next morning by the hotel staff," Perry finished, "A victim of a torrid affair gone awry. Carl, the miserable excuse for a man that he is, will rest easy knowing he'll never have to share you with anyone else."

Mandy grunted as she tried to turn herself over. The blood soaked comforter was blocking her ability to breathe, but Perry had probably planned that too. She couldn't believe how quickly she had trusted him, how completely she had given in to him. Had she been that desperate? Mandy cursed herself over and over as she tried to override the panic gripping her soul and subdue the white-hot pain in her thigh.

"Oh Mandy," Perry shook his head, "For what it's worth, I wish we had met under different circumstances. I think we could have been good together."

Mandy surprised herself as her index finger spasmed on the trigger of the gun. Summoning all her strength, she turned her head enough to free her nose and mouth. With blood shot eyes she looked over at Perry. Her vision was beginning to return to normal as she focused on him. Her face remained unmoved and dispassionate as she regarded him, forcing the muscles in her body to work again."But, between the pictures I took," he continued, reaching behind one of the flower arrangements on the dresser and pulling a small digital camera out, "And the damning evidence of the bedroom here, the doctored phone records and emails between you and Roy dating back about a month or two, you're in serious fucking trouble. And, I know that bullet I put in your thigh blew out your femoral artery, so in less than ten minutes you'll most likely bleed to death."

Mandy narrowed her eyes spitefully.

"Don't be angry," he looked at her, his eyes wide and innocent, "This is my job."

Perry turned and fiddled with the camera for a moment, slipping it back into the duffle bag. He held up the wad of money and said, "This was the price Carl figured your life at. Did you know you're worth exactly twenty thousand dollars?"

Perry paused, "Well, technically it was twenty-three... I mean, breaking into the phone company's records and your email server wasn't cheap."

Mandy could feel her fingers tingling now.

"I wonder," he asked, "Would Amanda Moon have been so naïve?"

Her leg was beginning to feel cold and distant from her.

"I'll bet Amanda Moon would have busted my balls the minute she found me on the bed..."

"...forget..." she whispered.

"Say again?" he asked and put a cupped hand to his ear, smiling smugly.

"... forgetting something..." she managed as the paralyzing sedative wore off.

"Did I now?" he leaned in over the bed, his nose pressed against hers, "What did I forget?"

"... I am..."

"You are what, Amanda?"

"...I am Amanda Moon..."

Perry lurched back as Mandy squeezed the trigger. The round blasted through his slacks, shredding cloth and skin alike. A high-pitched whine escaped his voice as he staggered backwards, his crotch a bleeding mess of ruined meat. His hand waved back and forth in front of his mangled genitalia. His eyes wide and mouth open in a surprised "O" of agony, he doubled over and collapsed to the floor and out of sight beyond the bed.

The acrid smell of gun smoke met Mandy's nostrils as she frantically worked the muscles in her legs. It was all slowly coming back, too fucking slowly, but coming nonetheless. Underneath her stomach and breasts she could feel the comforter soaking with warm blood. Roy's blood and her blood. Mandy wanted to scream like a lunatic and just give in to the wild fear coursing through her veins.

"BITCH!" Perry shrieked from the floor, doubled over in the fetal position, "I'll fucking kill you!"

Mandy had no doubt he would do it. She cursed herself for having been so stupid.

"You cunt!" came the ragged moan of her killer, "I swear to God I'll cut offffffaghhhhh!!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THIS HURTS!!!"

Mandy felt her legs beginning to move. She focused on them, coaxing them and babying them as her arms began to tingle and revive. Her fingers were alive with pins and needles as the shit Perry had put in her drink wore off. Her bottom lip firmly between her teeth, Mandy managed to roll herself over onto her backside. Her body was glistening with blood in the hot, red light. Her chest heaved up and down as air was sucked into and then expelled from her lungs.

"You shot my fucking balls off!" Perry screeched. She could hear him writhing on the floor, his impeccable shiny shoes occasionally kicking against the nightstand. All his posturing and kindness had been one big fucking act. Mandy almost laughed. Carl had put on an act when she met him. He had been so good at it she had married him. Perry had managed to pull the same stunt in a fraction of the time. Mandy chuckled to herself. At least she hadn't married Perry.

"What's so funny?" Perry hissed from the floor, "What so fucking funny bitch?"

"Me," she whispered, her hand still clenched around the gun, her index finger resting on the trigger. She looked down at her hand and ordered it to move. Her fingers slowly tightened their grip and then released again.

'Move you dumb mother fuckers!' she screamed at her arms and legs as tears welled in her eyes again, only it wasn't that timid frightened voice anymore. It was Amanda Moon's voice.

Her voice.

How long would Perry remain immobilized? She dared not underestimate him again. She had underestimated Carl as well. She had never once imagined that her husband would become sick enough to put a price on her head. All his jealousy and anger had culminated in the contracting of a killer to dispatch her, solely because he refused to risk her leaving him.

She thought of all the times he had taken it upon himself to beat her, to educate her in the ways of pain and respect. She could see his eyes flashing with that brilliant spark of hate that was both erotic and deadly, a taboo lust that only Carl found pleasure in. He had acted so justified and appropriate about his abuse of her. She supposed it was just as much her fault as it was his. After all, she had stayed married to him.

'Yeah, but you never asked to be beaten either,' a voice of reason called to her.

'Yes, but then I never called the cops did I?' she replied.

'He had no right to hurt you...'

'And I had no right to let it happen,' she realized, 'Now get up, you silly bitch...'

'You're a victim,' the voice of doubt insisted.

Mandy sighed and smiled despite the pain throbbing through her body, 'I am a victim...'

Perry kicked the nightstand again, grunting and groaning against his teeth as he tried to get up.

'I am a victim no more,' she thought. With a sudden burst of strength that surged not from her muscles but from deep within her soul, Mandy sat up on the bed. Her head swirled in the disorientation of the receding drug as her eyes focused and the world became real to her again. Her stomach lurched slightly, threatening an upheaval. Sweat had beaded and run all over her blood stained body, leaving small clean streaks in the thick red fluid.

She turned, bracing herself on one arm and saw Perry on the floor. He was still trying to cope with his wounds, his once handsome face contorted and painted with agony. The veins in his neck were pronounced and pulsing, his lips drawn back in a grimace she had only seen in the movies. His hands were cupped between his spasming legs. Blood was steadily oozing from his groin, coating his hands and spreading on the floor.

"I wonder," she said out loud, surprised by the sound of her own voice, "Which of us will die first..."

"Bitch," he cried. The hitman was literally crying.

"My wound isn't nearly as bad as yours," she tried to smile at him and then added, "Or as vital."

"I'll cut your fucking head off," he wheezed, his blue eyes light and demonic in the red light of the room.

"Not tonight," she heard herself say, "I'm tired, Perry."

"Get cute," he growled, "Watch what happens..."

"I've seen enough."

The smell of blood cooking on the lamp was slowly becoming more and more dominant in the room. Mandy reached for the phone on the nightstand. It was time for the police to come and save the day. She doubted very much she had any fight left in her at all. Let the men in blue handle it.

"I'll find you," he whispered, "You understand me, you cunt? I'll find you and kill you."

"When the police find out what you and Carl were up to, you wont be doing much of anything," she held the phone in one trembling hand as she dialed for an outside line.

And then two powerful hands clamped around her neck. Stars exploded in front of her eyes as Perry's bloody hands crushed her neck, trying to collapse her windpipe. The phone fell from her hand as she choked and gagged. Mandy was vaguely aware of Roy looking at her, still smiling at the promise of seeing her tits. Perry jerked her backwards hard as he throttled her.

"Think this is a game?!" he spat at her as they rolled over, Perry now straddling her body. She could feel his blood smearing against her stomach. She stopped herself from thinking of the shattered genitalia that was just beyond the confinement of his slacks.

She gasped, her mouth working open and shut like a fish beached on the rocks.

"It was just a fucking job," he screamed, spittle flying from his lips, "It wasn't anything personal!"

Mandy felt the gun in her hand.

"But you had to make it personal!"

'Oh I'm so sorry,' she thought wildly, 'I've offended you...'

Instead of pulling the trigger, she smashed the side of the gun into Perry's face. He screamed and fell backwards, his hands releasing her neck and flying to his ruined nose. Blood squirted from between his fingers as he gnashed his teeth together. Mandy immediately brought the gun down again, this time slamming it into his crotch. Perry howled and struck her hard enough to land her on the floor. She fell on her leg and agitated the bullet wound in her thigh.

"FUCK!" he raged on the bed, his voice nasally and pathetic, "FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!"

"How the mighty fall," she laughed crazily in the midst of the pain.

Mandy pushed herself to the wall and sat up. She inhaled deeply, still catching her breath. Perry would be recovered enough to come after her again in a moment, of that she had no doubt. He would come again and choke the life out of her as surely as the sun would rise in a few hours time. It was time to decide.

It was time to be the woman she was destined to be.

It was time to make her choice.

It was time to live or die.

She licked her lips, picked up the gun again and aimed it at her captor. It shook erratically as she tried to steady her hand. Blood and sweat stung her eyes. Mandy focused on his leg for a moment and then pulled the trigger.

Snnnnktt!!!

The silencer muffled the shot and the fabric on Perry's right thigh shredded in a mist of blood. He stopped his hateful growls, looking dumbly down at his bleeding thigh. He then looked into her, eyes wide and mouth open as though he had been slapped in the face like a little bitch.

"You shot me," he whispered.

"Twice," she huffed.

In spite of all the pain he was in, Perry lunged at her. He came off the bed like a Mandy ready to pounce on a rat. Mandy closed her eyes and pulled the trigger again. In the darkness she heard the silencer sound off again, followed by the dull thud of the bullet impacting its target. Perry slammed into her hard, pinning her against the wall. His breathing was ragged and short. His hands clawed at her as she tried to kick him away. But his weight would not allow her to move. His entire body was jerking and flailing against her wildly.

And then the hitman was still.

Mandy could not bring herself to open her eyes. The last breath in Perry's lungs wheezed out of his throat and fell on her cheek in a hateful spat. His face rested against hers and he suddenly became very heavy to her. Mandy tried to keep herself calm, but a part of her already knew that she had killed him. There was a dead man pinning her to the wall.

And she had killed him.

"That makes three times," she whispered in his dead ear.

After a few minutes, she found her strength again and with a mighty shove pushed Perry's body away from her. He fell to one side, coming to a rest on his back, slightly propped against the wall. Mandy opened her eyes and saw that her blind shot had taken her would-be killer in the left eye. In fact, the wound was almost as perfectly placed as the one Perry had dealt Roy a short eternity ago.