Killer Rabbit and Twisted Anathema


Killer Rabbit walked down the yellow brick road as the sun shone, and the thunder cracked the dark sky. It was a beautiful midnight afternoon in the wonderful land of Gothic City. The scene broke for a moment to reveal the grim reality beneath the curtain of hallucinations. The stormy weather, the gritty pavement, the gentlemen in wet business suits approaching her. Reality shifted again. Now a scarecrow and a lion are approaching, both with concealed guns under their jackets.

"Now very concealed with all this sunlight coming down." Killer Rabbit giggled to herself. The scarecrow and lion immediately pause. "Does this make me Dorthy then? Not overly familiar with this bit. Oh, and don't get ideas Mr Lion. I am not a furry."

'Our internet search history would beg to differ....'

"Not if it knows what's good for it." She scratched at her temple with the barrel of her gun, trying to remember what her next line was.

"Mrs, um, rabbit--"

"Its Rabbit." Killer rabbit immediately corrected him. "With a daddy R. Not a baby R."

"Of course it is." A third person said in a suave voice as he stepped from between the two nervous bodyguards. "But if we can get down to business?"

"What's on your mind Tin man?" Rabbit replied, feeling only slightly confused at the moment. Was she supposed to be here?

"I have need for one with your talents. And I am prepared to pay you--"

"I want all my loot in bags with green dollar signs." Rabbit interrupted again. "And paid expenses."

"Such as?" The man replied, already tired of talking to the lunatic.

"All the beer and Oreo's I can stuff." She replied like it was obvious. "So what's the gig?"

"I want Anathema dead...."

Now:Killer Rabbit was feeling very twitchy. Covert stealth assassinations were not her thing. She would rather fire a missile into Anathem's window via rocket launcher. It would be effective, and would make a great story for Christmas cards. "Plus, we've barely used the thing since we bought it."She complained to herself.

'And Gothic is crawling with heroes these days. Too risky.'

"Plus this is supposed to be a small thing, right?" She replied aloud.

'Very good Bright Eyes. You've earned a treat later....'

Rabbit giggled girlishly to herself, having guessed right at something for once. She absentmindedly scratched at her ears, still not used to the ear buds. Technically they cancelled out noise as well as her huge earphones did, but they weren't nearly as cool looking.

'Wait staff don't wear giant headphones. Ear buds can be hidden under our hair...'

"I know! Geeze! You're such a downer brain." She stopped outside Anathem's private room and knocked a little too hard. "Hello? Got your shrimp balls here. Heehee. I said--"

'Yeah, they all heard....'


Oh my. What could that be? Well, she certainly hadn't ordered room service, unless she had, in which case the hotel waitstaff was remarkably tardy. A disappointment. Maybe she'd do something about that.

Anathema cracked her neck to the side and then pushed her hands beneath her, arching her spine and sending her legs whirling above and behind her, her knees pushing off the back of the couch and sending the lithe girl to her feet on the floor. Reaching for the dresser, she withdrew her cracked and blood-stained hockey mask, slipping it over her face -- an almost amusing contrast to her solid black cocktail dress. This presidential thing was turning out to be much the way she had expected: there was no way Anathema would win, and it was only the fact that she had the antidote to the Chief of Staff's son's "sudden illness" that kept her from being kicked out on sight.

But it wasn't about winning, not really. Anathema had more plans that came from this, stemmed from this. Plans that needed to be cultivated, pruned, cared for, allowed to grow and form to new circumstances. But politics were among the first steps of one of her plans, and one of the last steps of another. It all came together in the end and it wouldn't be long before the world could... comprehend... the depths of Anathema's cold, calculating madness. It wouldn't be too long -- or would it? -- before the heroes, the villains, the aliens and the politicians, all began to realize that you didn't always need powers to become a conquerer.

With a content sigh and a few more jerky, flexible movements, Anathema extended one pale arm to the doorknob and turned it, swinging the door open with a blacked-eyed gaze.

(Killer Rabbit)

The door swung open soundlessly, catching Rabbit by surprise. Either Anathema moved very quietly, or Rabbit simply had forgotten to listen out."Probably the second one." Rabbit nodded her head, which made her remember she wasn't wearing her rabbit ear hood. She had the feeling she was forgetting something again.


"Hush brain. I'm trying to think--" She noticed the lithe, hockey mask wearing woman standing in the doorway then. "Room service Ms Voorhees. Complements of the hotel. And may I add I am a huge fan of your sons work."

'So much for being low key....'

"We can be Loki for Halloween." She replied to no one. As she was babbling none-sense, she had shaken her sleeve, causing a knife to slip in to her palm away from Anathema's line of sight, prepared to slash across the strange woman's throat.


"Quite amusing," Anathema said quietly, tilting her head. She smiled softly beneath the mask, and while it could not be seen, the expression touched her dark, tainted eyes. "You reference the horror character, the one who uses the machete."

Ana took a single step back, her every motion carrying the same jerky fluidness that made her almost seem to be moving in stop-motion at a glance. She slid open one drawer of her cabinet and reached in, closing her hand around something but not withdrawing it. She kept her eyes hard on the odd woman, who seemed to be quite mad, if her apparent hallucinations were any indicator. "If you're here about the election, it's worth noting that I am no true threat. I won't win."

(Killer Rabbit)

"I don't take notes." Rabbit replied in her best badass-action-movie voice. "Also, do you really move like a Silent Hill nurse? Or is that just something I'm seeing?"

Rabbit was aware of the woman's hand hidden in a drawer. Somewhere in the small, sane part of her psyche, that registered as danger. That part of her sanity was very distracting with its warnings, so she tended to ignore it. Her intel on Anathema (what she remembered of it) didn't say anything about her being experienced with any sort of weaponery.

"Holy crap brain! Did things just get interesting?" Her smile was lopsided.

'More interesting then an insane, rabbit themed assassin sent to kill a hockey mask wearing presidential candidate?'

"Jeeze brain. Save the exposition for the new people." With that she stepped forward, thrusting her large knife at Anthema's pale neck.


With a swift jerking motion, Anathema slid the etched black machete from the drawer, using a rapid sword motion called "cloud". She ducked backwards slightly, swiveling the thick, single-edged blade in a semi-circle in front of her -- and while she was almost too slow, she managed to send the knife clanging away at the last second.

Regaining her posture, Ana held one hand behind her back in a pensive posture, the machete held in front of her and slightly across her legs -- an idle fencer's stance. "I am unfamiliar with Silent Hill. But until I decide on an official diagnosis for your curious mind, I will humor you." The woman remained eerily still, not making an advance, and not even seeming particularly defensive beside the fact that she had drawn her 'sword'. "In any case, it is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it. Aristotle." Another small smile that didn't show behind her cracked, tarnished mask. "Praytell, ill girl, why have you come here for me?"

(Killer Rabbit)

Rabbit was uncustomarily quiet for a moment. The assassination had became bizarrely surreal, and she wondered for a moment if this was really happening or not. She decided after a moment of difficult thought to postpone the assassination. For now.

"You move like the matrix, and now you're asking obvious questions. You must be Keanu Reeves." She stepped into the room, kicking the door shut behind her, never taking her eyes off Anathema.

'Quick question, are we getting paid for all this free advertising?'

"We're getting paid to kill Annie here. Oh yeah, now its exposition time. Take it away snarky inner dialogue."

'She can't hear me dumb bunny.'

"Really? But you are so good with this boring jazz." She sighed exasperatedly, like a put off child. "We were hired by this guy to kill you.Pause. Until you were dead." She clarified. "I guess he really wants to be president." She leaned casually against the door, picking at her filthy nails with a knife she had pull from somewhere. Just in case.

'Someone brought a knife to a machete fight...'

"I wanted to bring a rocket launcher. So shut up."


So intriguing. The girl was very ill, amazingly so. Enough that Anathema herself nearly felt lucid by comparison. "You are a very odd specimen, ill girl," she said quietly, her posture not shifting even slightly. "I am not this 'Keanu Reeves', but it is unusual that someone would actually consider me a threat for the presidency." Tilting her head, Anathema lifted her static hand and tapped the PVC chin of her mask with it. If the girl was willing to accept political hit, and showed such a small amount of preparation, it seemed safe to assume that she was... not exceptionally bright.

"Do you have a rocket launcher, ill girl?" she asked, tilting her head again. Maybe with some aid in planning, this deranged waif could be useful in some way.

(Killer Rabbit)

"What is this, a job interview? Yeah I have a rocket launcher, cause we're totally metal. I have all kinds of kill-you-to deathery back at my secret HQ apartment." She bragged. Talking about things that exploded, or stabbed were here favorite topics of conversation. Aside from rock music and puppet shows.

Rabbit walked calmly past Anathema, to throw herself into the provided armchair. There was nothing the strange woman could do to her, that she didn't already do to herself on an average Saturday night.

'Yeah, she's the strange one....'

"Thank's for the color commentary brain. It just wouldn't be a scene without you." To Anathema, "So... you haven't ran screaming away yet, or died. That totally makes us besties." Rabbit cuts off, and discards her disguise, revealing her old rabbit ear hoodie, and shot red skirt.


"Besties." The masked woman parroted, the word not quite a question, nor entirely a statement. "'Life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend.' Sarah Dessen. Perhaps, ill girl, you have a point."

As an expression of peace -- an olive branch of sorts -- the masks woman set her machete down on the dresser and adopted a more relaxed posture, moving to the side to examine Killer Rabbit from all angles. The silly rabbit hood, the excellent physique, the myriad of hidden weapon slots that suggested the girl was laden head to toe with equipment. "Besties, yes. Perhaps we could be." It crossed her mind to ask who, besides Anathema herself, the girl was speaking to -- but considering the circumstances, she thought it may, perhaps, be tactful to wait.

(Killer Rabbit)

Rabbit was quiet for a moment at that. She looked at Anathema with perhaps real interest for the first time. Being agreed with wasn't something she was used to. Even her own mind usually disgreed with her. She looked away again, trying to regain her casualness and blushing for reasons she couldn't begin to understand, let alone express. Anna not only took her in stride, but wasn't actively trying to distance herself. Rabbit had a friend once, or she thought she had. It could be fun to have one again.

"This is going to be great Anna." She jumped up from the chair and began to rummage through the minifridge for beer. "We'll stay up late, talk about boys, plan murders." She stood up, a banana in one hand. The sticker on the side showed a smiling banana in the top hat. The brand was Dashing Banana Inc. "Are you going to eat this?" She asked, then peeled it and took a bite without waiting for a reply.


"I hadn't planned to, no." Ana said in a cool monotone. She tilted her entire body to watch Rabbit when she moved, her eyes never seeming to move behind the mask. She was like a villain in a horror game that followed you when you weren't watching, and moved when you looked away. Everything about the woman seemed wrong... but of course, of all the people, Killer Rabbit may have been the least likely to notice.

"Yes, we can do... many of those things," she admitted when KR gushed about all the girly slumber-party adventures they would have. "I'm sure we'll plan plenty of murders. Lots of lots of them."

(Killer Rabbit)

"Planning is boring." Rabbit mumbled around a mouthful of banana. "I leave that jazz to my brain. It usually works out anyway." She shrugged one shoulder, abd bent over to search the mini-fridge more. "We should order some room service or something. I forgot to bring food for my disguise. Oh wait! Poisoned food! That would have been clever." She slapped a hand against her forehead. "Do over? No wait..." She thought about what she was saying for a moment. "Never mind. Maybe we'll do that next time."

She looked up and saw that Anathema had moved around the room, again without a sound. Once again the tiny part of her brian that sensed danger woke up and started playing the Jaws theme.

"Beer brain?" She asked, holding up a can.

'Does the pope have a cool hat?...'

"Of course he does!" She replied, falling backwards across the arm of the recliner, a beer in each hand. "How you think he got the job? Duh." She grinned at Anathema through the curtain of her greasy locks, and raised one beer like a toast. "Anna, of all the people I've never killed, you're the first."


Beneath her mask, Anathema's eyes actually widened as she observed the bunny-eared woman. She was... absolutely out of control, more than she had even thought before. It took a lot of crazy to make Ana think you were crazy... but the merc known as Killer Rabbit was doing an excellent job of being exactly that unhinged.

"Your brain," the woman whispered, her voice a still, eerie monotone. "What does it tell you? What sinister things does it whisper into your mind?" She paused, inhaling invisibly and moving closer, flanking KR as if examining her head would reveal the inner workings of her mind. "Or is it the rational part of you? The part that allows you to... work?" More questions came to her mind, but then she paused, finding her hand on the little beige telephone on the counter and dialing a brief few numbers.

"Hello. Is this room service," she intoned heavily. "Yes. Yes, I have a... guest. She's positively famished." Setting the phone down, Ana offered her creepiest smile; not that it could be seen behind her ubiquitous cracked PVC mask.

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