An Ultra Violent Fairy Tale by Pete Bertino - HTML preview

41 AN ULTRA VIOLENT FAIRY TALE

“Sandy went into town, she said there are troops there.”

“So.”

“So, why are you going there? The Order will arrest you again.”

When the fairy told her why she was heading to Neon City, Kickswitch was silent, what could she say to her? There were other fish in the sea, or that she was a fool to walk into a lions mouth just to kick an ex-boyfriends ass. She wanted to laugh at Glitterbelle for attempting to do such a dumb god damn thing, fairy wrath be damned.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but you’re a fucking idiot.” Kickswitch said calmly.

She wondered if the fairy would beat her to death or maybe just bend an arm or a knee in a new direction. But she gave a smile the was too many teeth and a throaty growl behind it, but her eyes didn’t not take on a murderous red orange glow but a more muted gray that looked like a storm was brewing inside of her head.

“You don’t see the glow do you?” Glitterbelle asked.

Kickswitch was silent.

“You don’t see the glow, but you feel it. My kind can only see it, we’ll never know it, we’ll never catch it but we go after it no matter what.”

Glitterbelle walked off, and Kickswitch did not try to stop her this time. She stood watching until the fairy became another shadow in the forest. She walked back home slowly, rubbing her arms for warmth and sat by the fire to warm up when she returned.

“Where is she going?” asked Lenny as he tossed another log on the fire.

“To fix her broken heart.”

Neon City was alive in the way all cities of first world nations living in excess were alive. Like the cities of Reno and Las Vegas pleasures of the flesh and games of chance could be had. Neon City, much 42 AN ULTRA VIOLENT FAIRY TALE

like New York or Philadelphia pulsated during festivals celebrating victory in sport or war and played music so loud you could hear it through the whole mountain valley. The city blocks then like today were filled with people, most of whom didn’t care that Marshals were in the city or were oblivious to the fact.

The city was too fast paced for people to worry too long on anything, and there were less than one hundred Marshals, most of whom were underground doing sewer duty as they told citizens when asked which was not very often. As long as they, the citizens, were left alone and could live they didn’t think too much on anything, jobs were plentiful, money flowed and they could still spend it as they wished here. At Crow’s Nest, everything was business as usual despite the rest of the troops being there.

In the speakeasy’s gigantic basement were a fighting cage and a hoverboard jousting court, surrounding both were tall glass walls, behind them were people packed bleachers cheering on the combatants. Both events currently going on were life and death matches. A pair of burly men wearing only black shorts and bodies covered in bruises were pounding each other in the head as they rolled around a canvas mat that was filthy with dried and partially dried blood.

In the jousting court three hoverboarders circled the round hover rink holding bloody dented metal baseball bats. One of them, a woman wearing a black mask Paradine would have recognized, looked to be the fiercest opponent and carried not only a bat but a length of chain as well. Her clothes were covered in blood but most of it was not hers.

Among the stands were women serving drinks, cigarettes, and sex vouchers as well as betting vouchers if you wanted to make an on the fly wager and your credit was good. Upstairs was the dance floor, up beat dance music thumped out of speakers that were hanging on the corners of the room.

‘put on your break lights,

we’re in the city of wonder, city of lights’

Women in their sexiest best danced on the floor, some were there to advertise their services, some to be serviced themselves while men moved about them, some with equal motivations and desires and others just enjoying the view. Beyond the double doors was the game room where more people enjoyed themselves.

A long island bar sat in the middle being run by two very beautiful young women wearing Dr Marten boots, leather mini skirts and black corset tops with lacy red trim. Scattered through out were tables surrounded by patrons playing poker, roulette and the like being run by dealers in fancy suits with lightening quick hands. Along the walls of this room were doors, some led to offices, some led to large lavish bedrooms for high rollers that wanted to stay the night.