Chapter 7: The House
"Wake up, Beatrice."
She jerked herself awake, wincing in spite of herself. Every joint in her body ached. Her eyes crept from the dusty wooden floor towards the rotted panels of the room. A couch was on its side in a far off corner, and there was the head of a wolf mounted against a wall. Right beside it was a black and white TV monitor. Batti thought she recognized the voice that answered her in the locker room.
Ramparte stared back at her with a shit-eating grin.
"Do you know what true power is?" he asked, running his fingers through his jet black hair. He licked his lips, staring daggers at her. "I had the world before I met you. A career. The Law of the Jungle is to eat or be eaten, so of course Flex Mussel would take advantage of that. If not for you, I would have been strong enough to see his betrayal coming. Strong enough to grab WZCW by the leash and rise like the phoenix I should have been. You ruined my life, Beatrice. For that you will suffer. In my care is a client who has done terrible things to women. Horrifyingly ambiguous things. He could snap your neck right here and now and I would watch. But that's not true power. Choice is power, Beatrice Otaku. I choose to let you go...under one condition."
His proposition was met with a glare. He continued.
"Last week and the week before at Lethal Lottery I faced a dilemma. Around the same time I was signing Grindhouse to WZCW, management thought to hire another giant by the name of Jabari. He's made problems for me lately, and so I want him defeated." The Recluse turned away from the desk mic and nodded to somebody off-camera. "This may persuade the company to look further into Jabari's handlers. There must be some heat on a group of men exploiting a human being the way they are."
Batti stopped herself from attacking his comment. She sat up and hugged her knees. "You had to abduct me to tell me I should beat someone I was already supposed to meet in the ring?"
"It's not that simple. You were going to pay dearly tonight. But I had a change of heart. I pitied you."
She stared wide-eyed at the surveillance camera.
"I was there to hear Eve Taylor spill the beans. It's ironic that no matter where you turn, the shades of Cerberus still follow you. Shame. I thought you and Ty were just
adorable."
"Stop it! Just tell me how to fight a man as large as Jabari. Obviously I'm not Grindhouse. I'm the smallest person on the roster. Help me help you then, Ram!"
"Don't say my name. You don't get that privilege anymore."
Batti searched her pockets for her phone. It was missing.
"Call it an impromptu game. The only way you could fight The Nigerian Giant is with agility. May not be your forte, knowing how clumsy you are, so let's work on that, shall we? You have two minutes to escape this lodge. If you're still here when my clock reaches zero I'm sending Grindhouse in to do what he does best. Oh and one more thing..."
He cleared his throat, starting a stopwatch. "Even now I'm still coaching you to be your very best. You should be thankful."
As he cut the feed, he took another look at the watch. Ramparte shrugged.
"Eh she's a star now. Better make it one minute."
1:00
She made a beeline for the door. It was unlocked, but it felt like something had barred the door from the other side. Not wanting to waste time, she observed her room with more precision. There was a window, but it was boarded up.
0:30
She couldn't see anything she could pry it open with. After a brief moment trying to remove the wolf's head from the wall -
0:15
Batti decided the best and only true course of action was to hide. There was the couch...
0:10
What if there was some other way? A trap door? Should she dig her nails into the flooring to check? Ramparte said two minutes, that would give her about one more minute left.
0:05
Batti started to freeze up.
"Think girl, think!" she thought, panicking.
0:01
The door swung open, like she knew it would. The monster that knocked her out swallowed the doorframe, sniffing the air like a greyhound. Grindhouse lurched forward, his heavy boots made the floorboards cry out before the shushing sound of his winter coat brushed against the ground. He turned his head left, and then right; his mask a crimson grotesque mold with mandibles. His eyes fell on the couch. It had moved several feet away from where it originally was.
He sauntered reproachfully towards the piece of furniture.
Before he lifted the sofa with his bare grip, Batti stepped out from behind the door and sprinted wildly from the room, towards a dining area, the living room, and then the front door. She kept running even when the lodge was out of sight.
She stepped inside a diner to use their phone. On the bulletin board near the candy machines were two Missing Persons. Both were women in their cheerleader uniforms.