“Rise and shine, my sleeping beauty!”

Starkweather’s taunt crackling through the headset tore Maxine from her restless slumber.  Fuck, already?  The shooting schedule was demanding, but she’d barely had a chance to recover from the last “scene” she’d been forced to record.  One heavy eye fought to open, only to see that goading red light blinking through the darkness in the corner; the same one she watched until she passed out.  Every muscle protested as she pushed herself into a sitting position off the dingy mattress where Cerberus had dumped her.

“Found a new playmate for you, sweetheart.  Big, strong… A real brute.  That’s how you like ‘em, right?” he continued as she attempted to scrub the exhaustion out of her eyes.  “Name’s Cash.  Maybe you’ve heard of him.  Just dragged him off death row.  I’m sure he’s… pent up after being locked away so long.  Be a nice girl and take care of that for him.”  That husky, nauseating laugh right in her ear always made her skin crawl.  “Find him and he’s yours.  Careful, though.  He plays rough.”

The line went dead.  She took a deep breath through her nose before easing herself to her feet.  Everything hurt.  She could barely make it out of the room without the help of the wall.  Every bruise that decorated her body throbbed and dried scabs tugged at her skin with each movement.  Her stomach cramped from starvation.  Stepping out of the room, she reached the hallway of what she assumed to be an abandoned hotel.  Dim lights flickered overhead as she staggered towards the exit.  Cool air whistled through broken windows.  The ripped clothing that hung off her body did little to offer any protection from the chill, but she pushed onward.  There was no other choice.  The weeks were catching up with her…  Or had it been months?  Not like it mattered either way.  Nothing seemed real anymore, especially not time.  All the blood on her hands mixed together too.  She wondered how many more men she’d have to seduce and slaughter to satisfy Starkweather enough for him to take her in again for at least one more night.  She tried not to think too hard about the fact that human life was worth less than a warm shower and plate of food now…  Much, much less considering how many she’d have to take to earn one of each of them.  Survival.  That’s all it was, even if that was getting harder to justify.

Little did she know, survival was not on the script tonight.  They had a bit of a plot twist planned for her.  Mr. Nasty had been getting plenty of requests from his clientele.  A vast majority agreed that the tough girl plot, while initially fresh and satisfying, had run its course.  They enjoyed it while it lasted, but were willing to pay a more for a thrilling final act.  Significantly more.  He’d received countless messages on the forums detailing how they wanted her to suffer for all the content she’d spent the last several months of her life providing them.  They wanted torture.  Gratuitous, explicit, agonizing abuse of the physical, mental and, of course, sexual varieties.  After all, the audience had grown attached to her.  Quickly killing off their desecrated darling would be anti-climactic.  They wanted volumes of content featuring her brutal murder, then to see her pretty corpse violated after all was said and done.  Absolute satisfaction was always guaranteed.  What the fans want, Valiant Video delivers.

Enter James Earl Cash.

In the alley behind the what was once the Grand Carcer Inn, Starkweather’s newest star was being tossed out the back of a van by a few Cerberus grunts.  By the time he got to pulled the sack off his head and got to his feet, they’d drove off and chained the fence shut behind them.  He scanned the area where he’d been disposed as he backed into the shadows.  For his first night on the job, he’d quickly adapted.

“Got a damsel in distress wandering around in that hotel there,” the director’s voice rasped in Cash’s ear.  “Poor thing has been fending for herself against some of those same bloodthirsty low-lives you’ve been exterminating for me.  There’s some more on the prowl.  Think you can get to her before they do and get her outta there, big guy?”

Starkweather could already feel the pre beading as he leaned in closer to watch one of the monitors while Cash dutifully crept into the building.  He gave himself a slow rub through his shorts, but wasn’t ready to start jerking just yet.  This was going to be good.  Maybe his greatest masterpiece.  He figured as violent as Cash was, even he wasn’t depraved enough to be the one to drag out her death, but he did seem like the chivalrous type.  He could picture it now.  The whole time, she’d be cozying up to him, trying to lure him into the same trap she’d used on all those other unlucky limp-dicked bastards, like she’d have any chance of taking him out.  A common whore was no match for a death row inmate, no matter how scrappy she could be… But he wouldn’t be the one to kill her.  No, not at all.  His role was to be the dumbass that led the bitch to her doom.  Maybe if he was lucky, Cash could have a front row seat to his most anticipated film yet before getting sent back to the penitentiary so his own story could play out.

Truth was, there were no gangs in this hotel.  Some were out front and plenty littered the path towards the warehouse they’d end up at, but Cash didn’t know that.  He didn’t need to.  That apprehension and paranoia looked real good on camera.  Almost as good as the girl’s pain.  With his free hand, Starkweather flipped through the feeds until he found her again.  There she was… wincing as she staggered down the crumbling stairwell.  The lighting was better in here so the camera could catch just how pathetic she looked; a far cry from the glamorous working girl they’d swiped off the streets.  Those silky scarlet waves looked better as a greasy, stringy ponytail.  The bright eyes that were once smokey and alluring behind spectacles that gave her a mature, sophisticated appearance were now bloodshot and squinting as she struggled to see in front of her through the cracked lenses.

“Looking good, Maxie.  Have you lost weight?” he taunted, thoroughly getting off to every second of her suffering.  Watching her very livelihood, that soft inviting body of hers that she had relied on for years to get by, become sharp and ragged was pure cinema.  “How about a smile for my cameras, doll?  Would hate to have to send someone in to beat that bitchy look off your face.”

Her grimace barely twitched at his suggestion, which further amused him.  It was a damn shame that he couldn’t bring her in to suck him off again before her grand finale.  What he wouldn’t give to feel those cracked and busted lips wrapped around his shaft one more time and gag on it like her life depended on it… which frankly, it did.  Oh, well.  Carcer City had plenty of other prostitutes to abduct.  No one would miss them either.

“How about a little pep in your step, hm?  Cash is already on his way in.  It’s like you want him to sneak up on you first.”  His impatience starting to bleed through the earpiece as she limped along like a newborn fawn.  “Tell ya what… I got a soft spot for you, Maxine.  I do, so I’ll throw you a bone.  Pretty sure we left a bottle of pills somewhere around there.  Might want to hurry unless you plan on fighting him for them.”

Maxine screwed her eyes shut briefly upon hearing this, but mustered all the strength she could to move a little faster.  As she descended, her eyes scanned the grim surroundings for a vibrant pop of orange.  She moved her stiff limbs with all the grace of a panda, stumbling over her own feet the moment she caught a glimpse of the strategically placed painkillers.  She hit the landing with a thud that echoed through the stairwell, but still managed to crawl over to retrieve the bottle.  Her hands shook as she tried to twist the top off.  Desperation was welling, as were tears.  The two pills inside rattled in her trembling grasp before the bottle slipped right out of her hands.  It rolled away faster than she could lunge at it, dropping between the gaps in the steps.  A choked sob escaped as Starkweather began to cackle in her ear.

“Whoopsie!  Now, Maxie, come on!  When’d you become such a butterfingers?  Hell, I remember you being much better with your hands than that.”

His ridicule didn’t even register as she just curled into herself on the concrete, neither did the echoing footsteps that approached her.  The pain of her tumble down the stairs was setting in on top of everything else.  Fuck, she didn’t want to survive anymore.  Why continue to humiliate herself on camera?  Why keep giving him content?  In hopes of getting out of here someday?  Even if she escaped, there wasn’t anything better waiting for her on the other side.  No family, no friends, no justice.  No one would believe her, and she wasn’t a saint.  She was guilty of murder now.  Even if she didn’t get time in prison over it, the mental torment assured her a stay in an asylum, which was arguably a worse fate in Carcer.  So, who gave a shit if that inmate found her?  What was he going to do that hadn’t already been done?   

Before her mind could let her spiral further into despair, a big hand landed on her shoulder and rolled her onto her back.  Hands then slipped under her armpits to lift her up enough to prop her against the wall.  The man dropped to a crouch, looking over his shoulder as he twisted the lid off the pill bottle and dumped the contents into his palm.  He silently held them out for her.  She just stared at him, both suspicious and dumbfounded.  With one look, she knew this was the guy she’d been told about.  He looked every bit like a convict from the shaved head and hardened expression to the scar above his eyebrow and denim prison clothes.

“You gonna take them or what?”

His rough voice startled her.  She hesitated, but the need to dull the pain outweighed her reservations.  She lifted her hand to take them from him, still shaking.  Before she could send them scattering down the steps again, Cash huffed and took it upon himself to bring them to her mouth and tip them in.  She swallowed.  She almost choked from how dry her throat was, but she did manage to get them down.  A nod of gratitude followed.

“Look it that,” Starkweather laughed in Cash’s ear.  “Already warming up to you.  Gotta say, the two of you look cute together.”

Cash ignored the director’s bullshit, focusing on the lady in front of him.

“Get up.”

He grabbed her bicep and rose to his feet.  She didn’t have it in her to fight him, nor did she have the energy to comply.  She just let him pull her up.  She tried to stand on her own, but once again had to brace herself against the wall.  This didn’t go unnoticed by Cash.  Without commenting, he scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.  She had no choice but to let him.  God, she felt so useless.  It was like her body had completely given up.  She was at this guy’s mercy and he was different than all her other marks.  It had been clear up until this point that she’d been matched up against easy prey— Hoodz, the director had called them.  Thugs who were either too horny to think properly or just plain stupid.  This guy seemed collected and competent.  That frightened her.  Not only would she have no chance of physically overpowering him when she could no longer get her body to obey, but he didn’t seem like he’d be able to be manipulated either.  She could only hope that what Starkweather mentioned about him being “pent up” after his time in the pin wasn’t true.  A man of his size would tear her apart.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he carried her down the stairs.

He shushed her and didn’t elaborate, too focused on surveying the area to converse.  Unfortunately, the director’s commentary started up again in her earpiece.

“Aw, don’t worry.  Nothing against you, sweetheart.  Cash is just the strong, silent type,” Starkweather explained to her.  “Not much for conversation.  Might as well just enjoy the ride.”

If only the same could be said for Starkweather… Did this guy ever shut up?  The painkillers were starting to kick in now and she found it more difficult to care.  Her eyelids grew heavier while her body felt floaty.  An overwhelming sense of relief began to wash over her as she relished in the pleasant warmth of Cash’s body holding hers.  For the first time in recent memory, she felt some semblance of comfort…. Which made it all the more disappointing when she was placed on the ground.  An involuntary whine escaped her at the loss of contact, only to be silenced by his big hand over her mouth and nose.

“Quiet,” he whispered before easing his hand away from her face to signal her to stay in place.  “Wait here.”

Maxine forced her eyes open to see she was in the corner of what resembled an abandoned lobby.  She watched him creep along the wall towards until he reached the door.  Those painkillers were much stronger than any she’d come across before.  Her head was starting to swim, but she forced her eyes to stay trained on Cash.  He peeked outside, tensing up at whatever he saw before retreating to the shadows and scanning the lobby.  A breeze blew past the broken glass, causing a plastic bag to ghost along the dirty, cracked tile.  He was swift and silent as he approached the bag and scooped it up, wrapping it around his fist as he made his way back to the door.  The seconds felt like hours as he stared at that door, still as a statue.  She couldn’t even tell if he was breathing.  Suddenly, he snuck out.  She heard sounds of a struggle, the crinkle of the bag, and some gasping and gurgling.  She wanted to push herself up to investigate, but it just wouldn’t happen.  She wasn’t left waiting in suspense for long.  Cash reappeared, dragging a body back into the lobby with the same bag on its head.  Her bleary eyes widened at the implication as he propped the corpse by the door and searched it.  After finding something of interest that he tucked into his belt, he returned to her.

Nothing was said as he hoisted her up again, but he didn’t toss her over his shoulder this time.  One arm supported her back and the other her legs.  Leaning into him, she tucked her head against his shoulder.  He remained just as stealthy with her in tow, not immediately walking out of the entrance.  He peered around the frame first, scoping the area before stepping out in the dark, empty streets of Carcer City.

Maxine’s paranoia was the only thing keeping her lucid, even as everything in her fought to allow herself this chance to rest.  She stared straight in front of her, watching the world ahead as Cash quickly carried her across the street and into an alley.  Only briefly did her eyes raise as the moon shone bright overhead to offer her a better view of her surroundings.  She blinked, getting a good look at him finally.  He seemed a bit older than she had first guessed, probably mid to late thirties, though the hard lines etched into his face could have been attributed to a rough life.  His determined eyes were a warm brown and the lips that formed his scowl were full.  His jaw was strong with a bit of stubble on his chin.  She’d hadn’t faced a man who wasn’t masked in ages, save for Starkweather, and he wasn’t anywhere near as easy on the eyes.  Too soon, her head felt like lead again.  She let it loll to his chest as her eyelids fluttered shut.

The next time they opened, she saw a rat scurry past her foot.  She gasped and pulled her legs in before looking around in a panic.  She saw a silhouette at the end of the alley, peering into the darkness before wandering closer.  Shit.  Someone had heard her and this was a dead end.  Where the fuck was she now?  Had the con abandoned her?  She could do nothing but sit frozen in fear as the figure stalked closer.  Another body soon stepped out of the shadows after the first made it halfway to her.  In only a few steps, it had caught up with the other and then swung what looked to be a bat.  It struck the head of the first shadow with a wet crack and metallic ping.  As that body hit the ground, it was hit a beat more times for good measure.  Maxine’s stomach churned and a hand darted over her mouth.  Before she could gag, she noticed the figure approaching her.  She scrambled to her feet, but not before pulling the knife out of her sock and holding it in front of her.

“Back the fuck up!” she stammered.

“Easy.”

That one hushed word made her tense before she relaxed again.  Her relief at realizing it was just Cash was short-lived.  A voice called out from the direction of the street.

“Hey!  Think she’s over here!”

“Then go check, dumbass.”

Her blood ran cold.  People were hunting her?  She looked to Cash’s shadow for direction, and he just pointed behind the dumpster she had been propped up on.  She quickly ducked behind it while he pressed himself into the darkness against the opposite brick wall.  As she tried to pay attention to how close the boots were scuffing towards them, Starkweather started his bullshit.

“Ah, you’re finally awake!  Good, good… Thought you were going to miss all the fun.  You ever been this popular, Maxie?  Ever had men fight over you?  I told ‘em, ‘Boys, no need to bicker.  There’s plenty of the girl to go around!’  But I’m afraid Cash is being a bit selfish.  Doesn’t seem like he wants to share you.  If he wanted you that much, he should’ve just done his thing while you were out—”

She couldn’t take it anymore.  The taunting, the vulgarity…  She tore the earpiece out and tossed it into a puddle so she could focus.  She was still a bit disoriented from the pills, but however long she was passed out gave her body enough time to restore her resolve.  Peering around the dumpster, she watched a scene she couldn’t quite make out.  Eventually, a body slumped forward without a head on it.  This time, she managed to stop the gasp from escaping.  Bile threatened to rise up in her throat when she saw Cash toss what she assumed was the head to the mouth of the alley like a ball, but she swallowed it down. 

“Two more.”

His whisper was barely heard and it took her a moment to process it.  He was picking them off one by one.  The silence that followed stretched on for eternity as they waited for one of the other two to wander towards them.  She felt like she should be doing something more productive than shivering by the garbage, but knew better than to interfere.

“Oh, my god… What the fuck?!  You bitch!”

The new voice echoed down the alley.  One of the guys must have found the head.  He ran in to find them, right into Cash’s bat that he swung the moment the punk passed in front of him.  It knocked him back onto the pavement and Cash proceeded to beat his skull until bits of brain and cranium splattered.  He raided this corpse too, though this time, a weapon wasn’t all he retrieved.  The flannel shirt was finagled off the body in addition to the machete.  Both were brought to Maxine.  She didn’t question it when he held them out to her, quickly slipping her arms into the sleeves.  The shirt reeked of the coppery scent of blood and foul stench of trash, but was still warm and did a much better job shielding her from the night chill than her shredded top.  After rolling up the sleeves enough so they didn’t hang over her hands, she accepted the machete that put her tiny dagger to shame.  Cash then grabbed her wrist and guided her along behind him.  God, she was grateful she could move on her own again, even if she did still feel sluggish.  She had no idea how long she was out.  Couldn’t have been too long since the pain wasn’t back in full force yet.  Her clammy palms gripped the handle of her blade tighter, ready to swing if anyone got close.  She followed him to where the alley met the street.  She didn’t recognize this area.  They must have made it across town. 

Cash held up a hand, instructing her to stay put as he crept over to a car that was propped up on cinderblocks and peeked around it.  She kept a close eye on his position, but noticed something out of the corner of her eye.  Turning her head, she noticed a guy with a skull painted on his face wandering closer to their position.  If he’d noticed the other man, he didn’t show it.  He didn’t appear to be in much of a hurry.  Still, he was too close to comfort.  He was drawing nearer to the car, and Cash’s attention was on something or someone else entirely.  Her heart thrashed against her rib cage; the sound of her pulse deafened her in this silence.  Everything told her to slink back into the alley to avoid detection, but she’d been enough of a burden and didn’t want Cash to be ambushed, lest she lose her best chance at survival.

Sneaking up on people wasn’t her strong suit.  Her strategy during her entire “career” had been far more overt.  She’d use herself as bait and then go for the kill.  She didn’t have much time to doubt herself as the guy walked right past her in Cash’s direction.  She swung the machete, lodging it in the target’s neck.  Blood splattered her face as the man fell to his knees with the weapon stuck halfway through his throat.  It took a good tug before she was able to free it, only making more blood spray her.  He wasn’t dead yet, still gurgling and squirming in pain.  She closed her eyes and swung again… and again.  Was it really this difficult or was she that weak? 

When she eventually cracked an eye open, the grotesque, botched execution at her feet made her grimace.  She’d been so sloppy with it.  She’d made a fucking mess and his head was still partially attached to his body by the spine.  Even without the earpiece in her ear, she could feel Starkweather’s appreciation for what she’d just done and it made her stomach churn.  That was the only thing she felt.  Not fear, not adrenaline, not even remorse… Just disgust.  And the disgust wasn’t directed at the body in front of her, nor at herself for what she’d done…  It was all at him.  At the man who spent his days watching this, orchestrating this, masturbating to this.

Turning her head, she saw Cash staring at her.  His expression offered no insight on what was going through his mind.  Maybe he felt the same.  She’d never know.  He simply gestured for her to join him, so she did.  She yanked the machete out of the body and dragged it behind her.  A trail of blood followed her to the car.