Russian Roulette

The next evening, they had a stop to make: The Rabbit in Red Lounge. Someone had to pay. It didn’t matter who. So many had objectified her, made her a cheap whore. They had done the same to Deborah. She would give them one last dance. Then, there would be blood, payback. She would revel in it. The plan was for her to dance and take a life just before the song ended. Then, when the song ended, Michael would burst in and help her. Then, it would be playtime.

"This will be my last dance Mikey. Then, it's gonna be playtime," Ailsa said as she adjusted her jeans to show her G-string. "Don't worry. I won't let them touch me. No one is ever going to touch me. We're going to have lots of fun." She patted his hand and he slipped in behind her. He hid in the dressing room. She went to the main room. There were only three people: the bartender, Nick, a regular named Sam and another dancer, Bubbles.

"Ailsa!" Bubbles cried. "The news said you were dead!"

"Well, I'm not," Ailsa rolled her eyes. "I just want to work. Put on my song Nicky." She always danced to 'Sex and Candy' by Marcy Playground.

*Hangin' round downtown by myself
And I had so much time
To sit and think about myself*

First, she took off her pants. Then, she peeled off her t-shirt, revealing a bra. The red of her G-string was the same shade of fresh blood. She flashed a tit a minute and a half in. Then, she climbed onto Sam's lap, grinding and grinning. Then, she took the knife hidden in her bra. It was small, but it would hurt. Sam didn’t notice it until it was at his throat. When she cut him, he didn’t make a sound. Bubbles saw it, but her scream was drowned out by Michael busting the door open.

"What the fuck?" Nick yelled. "Sam? Sam? Oh shit!" By then, a nearly naked Ailsa had jumped onto the bar, waving her knife. She stabbed him in the neck, and dragged the knife across. Blood sprayed across her and she withdrew the knife to stab him in the face, nearly yanking out his eye. Michael had gotten Bubbles. He had her by the hair and she was clinging to the chair. Fear gave her an iron grip. Michael ended up pulling out half her scalp. He stabbed her in the back and then the ear.

"Oh Michael!" Ailsa spun around and gave him a hug. She was covered in blood and her body was slippery. She was slid up and down. "I feel so free!" She pressed her lips to the mouth of her mask. "C'mon, let’s go before people come." She grabbed her clothes, and stole some of the clothes from the dressing room, slipping a dress over her head. Then, she followed Michael into the night.

That night, while she did her nails, Ailsa watched the news. They hadn’t connected her to any of the murders. It was a Michael copycat. It made her laugh, then it made it remember that there was one more name on her list.

Dr. Eli Keyes.

When she was fourteen, he had stuck something inside her to remove the child her father had planted in her. While the baby had been removed, he had scarred her insides. It had hurt so bad, and she hadn’t been able to walk for days. He would hurt then he would die.

After the news (she was still believed to be missing and in danger), Ailsa went upstairs. She paused at Michael's doorway. He sat at his desk, making a mask. He had made three since she had been here. All dark, sad colors.

"Hey Michael," Ailsa whispered. "Can I see what you're working on?" He held up a freshly completed mask. It was purple, with beautiful gold swirls. "Oh my god. This is so pretty." She smiled at him. "You are very good." She touched his shoulder. He held out the mask. "Do you want me to take this?" He nodded. "Thank you." She pressed her lips to the cheek of his mask. "I'll wear it when we play." She slipped it on. Michael stood up and swept the hair from her forehead. "Can I touch you?" she found herself asking. He nodded and she put her hand on his chest, over his heart. "Do you want to touch me?" He nodded and she took his hand and placed it over her own heart. He moved it up to her face and stroked her cheek. She felt her heart speed up and her breath caught. His hand slid down her arm. She jerked back when his hand grazed her breast.

"I'm going to bed," she mumbled and went up to her room. It took Ailsa hours to fall asleep. She spent hours staring at the ceiling, wondering, her fingers playing out her fantasies.

In the morning, Ailsa woke up to the smell of coffee. That confused her. Since when did Michael know how to work a coffeemaker? She put on her robe and went downstairs.

There was a woman in her kitchen. She wore a light blue skirt that fell just below her knees and perfect white blouse. Her light brown hair was pin-straight and not a hair was out of place. She was making breakfast and Michael was staring at her.

"Who the fuck are you?" Ailsa asked.

Xxx

Note: Yes, that is the Mary-Sue who thinks that love will beat the demon inside Michael. Any hints for creating the ultimate Mary-Sue?