Status: actively updating

Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge

- the barn - *contains violence*

As I mentioned before, Helena and I did everything together, especially after I went into remission and left the hospital. One of our favorite things to do together was murder people. Yeah, yeah, I know it sounds terrible but it's really not. We killed the bad people in the states. We were the good guys. We only wanted to make the world a better place. Some people just deserved to die. The bad ones. And let me tell you, it sure felt good to kill all those fuckers. It made us feel amazing, like a god and goddess. Immortal.

But all good things must come to an end.

Helena and I had known each other for three years and for two of those years we had been engaged. It was her twenty-first birthday when the police finally caught on to our trail. God, if only they could understand why we had killed all those people. We were helping the country, the world. But of course, the police didn't want to believe things like that... You know, the truth.

I remember the night when we were caught after a little over a month of finding out that people were actually looking for us. We were down in Louisiana. There was one man down there who had a family of assholes just like him. They had a puppy mill and they loved to kill the dogs just for kicks. Blow their brains out or snap their necks.

Helena had this one all planned out. I admired her greatly for her plans. She was amazing. We had a nice big van for this job. We hadn't stolen it, we were just borrowing it for awhile.

+++

"Whatcha all kids want?" A middle aged looking man snapped as he threw open the front door to his rundown ranch house. I could hear dogs growling and barking out in the barn that was behind the house.

"Hey there," Helena replied, managing to cover her Australian accent with a Southern one. "This the place with the puppies?"

The man's face brightened considerably at that. "Yeah! Come in." He stepped back, allowing Helena and I to enter the house which smelled of shit, piss, and blood.

"Who is it, Dick?" A woman's heavily accented voiced called from another room. Dick. What a perfect name for this guy.

"Some kids who wanna dog!" Dick called back. He was tall and looked like he was capable of beating the living shit out of basically anyone. In marched a fat lady with dank orange hair. She looked mean as hell and kind of scared me.

"Well now, don'cha look pretty in that dress," she said to Helena, complimenting the white lacy dress my fiance wore under her black peacoat. "And you," she said, taking in my suit and trenchcoat. I was glad my hair was back to shoulder length now, enabling me to cover most of my face with my hair so this woman couldn't see the total look of disgust I had.

"Thank you, ma'am," I replied, faking a Southern accent.

"Now, 'bout them dogs," Helena chimed in.

"Right," the woman said before turning and yelling, "James! Daniel! Kelly!" Two boys and a girl, all duplicates of their dad save the orange hair, came into the hall. What the hell did we need them for? Oh well, it just made things easier somehow. I was glad that they looked to be around our age because I would never be able to kill a child.

"We got us some kids wantin' ta buy themselves a dog," Dick explained. He turned to Helena and I then. "Didn't catch y'alls names before..."

"Sawyer," I replied. "This is my gal, Kate." I spent too much time watching TV if we are being honest.

"Nice ta meet ya," Dick said. "I'm Richard Moyer and this here is my wife, Norma, and our kids, Kelly, Jim, and Dan. Now.. the dogs..." And he walked off, his wife and kids in tow with "Kate" and I following.

"Yeah, 'bout them dogs," my bride-to-breed growled under her breath.

"Whatcha kids all dressed up for?" the girl, Kelly, asked.

Helena and I had been lagging behind on the way to the barn. We did this in hopes that one of them would come back and talk to us, and low and behold, our little scheme worked.

"A funeral," Helena replied casually.

"Oh yeah? Who's?" Kelly asked. Christ, that was rude.

Helena looked that girl right in her eyes. It was cute to see actually. Helena was only five foot two and Kelly had to be at least a foot taller than her, but she was the one who broke eye contact first.

"I asked ya who's," Kelly reminded us after a minute or so. Again, she looked down at Helena and myself and again, Helena met her eyes.

This time, the smaller girl's lips pulled up ever so slightly at the corners before she spoke. "Yours."

Now you have to understand that we had meant to scare the girl a bit and then kill her later. We hadn't expected that giant to stumble over a dead dog and fall flat on her ugly mug like she did. Before she knew what was happening, Helena and I swooped down on her, not wanting to pass up the opportunity. Before I had the chance to do anything, Helena had snapped the bitch's neck.

Quickly, we stood up and continued to follow the four remaining Moyers as if nothing had happened. However, we were now aware that what I had assumed to be logs or boulders int he dark were actually dead dogs.

"Well now, where'd that Kelly go?" Dick Moyer growled when we got to the barn which was emitting various dog noises.

"Oh, um.. She ran by. Said somethin' about the bathroom."

Next to me, Helena nodded in confirmation. Dick grumbled something before asking, "What kinda dog was y'all lookin' for?"

"A cute one," Helena replied.

Dan laughed and stroked Helena's arm, a buck toothed grin on his ugly face. It took everything in my power not to smash his face in right then. "Dan!" Norma snapped. "Get cha pitchfork 'case them dogs attack Kate and Sawyer 'ere."

"Yes, ma'am," Dan replied. Winking at my fiance, he turned to grab a pitchfork that was leaning on the side of the barn.

The doors were thrown up and there was a squalshing noise, a yip, and Dan Moyer raised the fork that was now glistening red. "C'mon," he said and led his family, Helena and I into the barn and over a bleeding dog. Helena started crying immediately at the sight. A few tears rolled down my cheeks too.

Inside the barn were about thirty puppies and ten full grown dogs. Only about fifteen puppies and three dogs were alive though. The others lie in bloody heaps on the floor. The surviving dogs were sick and deathly look, all skin and bones.

"I want 'em all," Helena said.

"Okay, dear," I replied. "How much for all of 'em, Dick?"

"What?" he replied, dumbfounded.

"All of 'em. All these dogs. The LIVE ones. How much?" I repeated.

All four of the Moyers looked stunned. "Well I... I... Well..." Mr. Moyer stammered.

"Well you, WHAT?" I snapped. "How. Much."

"Thousand. NO. TWO thousand fer all of 'em," Norma piped up.

"Done," I replied, pulling out my wallet and handing over two thousand dollars that I just so happened to have for situations like this. "We're just gonna go down and get our van. To get the dogs easier. C'mon, Katie," I said and led Helena back to the van. We jumped in and drove it to the barn. I was careful to drive over Kelly on the way. Soon, the Moyers had loaded all the dogs into the van and luckily, they didn't seem to hear the conversation that my girl and I had while they did so.

"You ready to paint these walls pitchfork red, baby?" I asked.

"More than ever," Helena growled.

"Aw, sugar, I'm glad. This was such a great plan."

"Thanks," Helena muttered, her pale face blushing slightly.

"Okay, kids, y'alls dogs are loaded. Thanks for the service," Mr Moyer, the money grubbin' pig, replied with a stupid grin on his face.

Helena and I smiled at them as we walked up to them. "Well gosh," she said, still using the Southern drawl. Just like that though, she dropped the act and her Australian accent was back. "That's so sweet of you."

I grinned as the Moyers' eyes popped at the change. "Yep," i said in my normal voice. "So very, very sweet. You ready, Helena?"

Norma actually yelped at hearing the name.

"As always, Gerard."

Quiet Jim got a bullet through his head as did Norma. Dick met the same fate as his dear Kelly and as for Dan, let's just say the barn now had a pretty decoration on the wall, complete with pitchfork and all... pitchfork in the stomach that is.

What happened to the dogs you ask? Well earlier that night, we had found a pet refugee center that we could take the dogs to. They thought that Kate and Sawyer were social workers who saved animals. We got two thousand dollars from the pet refugee place to go along with the money I had nicked back from the guy we killed.