Backstabbers

"You'll rue the day you came into this town. You hear me, Steven Snape."

"Shut your pie hole, woman. Nobody talks that way to me and lives to tell about it. Choose your method or face the most awful choice of your life." He looked at her with her lazy eye and dishevelled hair.

Harmless as a common house fly, she looked back at him, and before she could say choose, he dealt her out her hand of fate.

"See, now your card says you must screw over your neighbour but appear to be his friend. Get him to believe you are friends and then strike him with the truth." He smiled at her, and instead of striking her, he pulled her in and held her to his body.

#

It was the only thing close to affection she had ever known. Now, she misunderstands why she was made to make a choice. She tells him she isn't happy to see anything afloat anymore. And that she'd rather sell real estate on the coast of a Central American country than live like a prisoner.

Steven Snape died that night, and she ate his body and then boiled his bones. She cooked what she couldn't eat and left it outside as peace offerings for the animals who protected her.

Snape had many associates, but nobody was sorry to see his cruel ass disappear.

Everyone who heard said, "Good! Serves the old bastard, right?"

Nobody thought that there was any connection between Steven and Vanda. Vanda didn't want anything more to do with being associated with Snape than Snape did with being associated with her. But she was a clever lady, and as daft as she appeared to all, she was the one who held all the cards.

#

"Why didn't you tell them what happened to Steven and his last words?" Grouse asked.

"What difference would that have made? Daniel demanded. Nobody cares about that now. We have to move. Before too long, the villagers will catch on to who I am, and our cover will be blown. Because remember, if mine is blown, so too is yours."

"Vanda, when? When did you turn into a grouse? I've been with you for so long that I even forgot you became one until now. When you remind me, you rub my nose in it."

"Come now, Daniel, gloating or full of fear; whichever of the two you are displaying doesn't suit you, I'm afraid."

She flew to the top of the perch site and ensured he saw enough room for him.

"I see you left room for me, so I'll take you up on your offer and join you on the porch." Daniel flew to join the grouse and nestled beside her, his head beside hers.

Once they sat up high, they could see the kingdom and the vulnerabilities of others who had gone before the perch and lost—fallen off, pushed off or clean cut off. Suddenly, it all jerked into place.

At the same exact moment, Grouse and Daniel realized they, too, had vulnerabilities and were forces that could be reckoned with or taken out. Their realizations became the essence of their play-by-play within one another's heads.

Neither one would say anything, but both knew there was an element of truth and unwellness to what was going on in their lives. They were merely existing and not at all living.

"I've been to the other world, Daniel. It's not for us. You know I would never lie to you, right, Daniel?" Grouse said.

"Of course I do; I have no desire to go anywhere other than where I am. In fact, I'm a bit scared about what will happen when all of this shakes out."

"Shakes out? You're a bit scared? What will happen? Where is all of this coming from, Daniel?" Grouse looked him straight in the eye and studied him for something he could sink his teeth into. But she gave no tells, and Vanda's face flashed in and out.

Despite her nerves being on the edge, she allowed no emotion to be shown. Her hair stood at attention in the nape of her neck as the fire in her belly fuelled itself with thoughts of others coming at her from all different directions.

Each yelling, "Grouse, Grouse. What's the matter, Grouse?" But she stood her ground, and as her sweat-slicked back, doused in perspiration, sopped, she stared into Daniel's eyes deeper than ever.

Yet she found no demons there to indicate betrayal or harm of any kind, so she was at a loss as to what to do next. It wouldn't have been so bad, but Daniel kept talking and talking.

"Grouse, what if they come from the air? I'm not as astute at flying as you. I'm not sure if I could even fight and fly at the same time."

"Why do you discuss fighting. And who are 'they?' The ones coming?"

"What?" Daniel asked.

"Well, you said, Grouse, 'What if they come from the air?' I ask again, who are they?"

"Maybe they are the enemies who can never be found but lurk among us just to annoy and keep us on our toes."

"But why do we need enemies? What is their natural function in a relationship? Is there a function for an enemy in life?"

"My gut, Grouse, tells me no. But my heart says otherwise. I have lived a very long time, and I understand almost all of the ways of your world and my world. I still have not found a valid and compelling reason to have an enemy."

"It's not as easy as you boiled it down to be, Grouse, and you know it. You've said you know my world almost as well as yours? Then you know humans and different nations always have sworn enemies."

"Yes. I do. But why? Based on political beliefs? Freedom of speech? Censorship? Or anything about colour, religious beliefs, or creed."

"Okay, Grouse. You win. Enemies are necessary because, without them, we would have no focus and, therefore, no purpose. Is that it?"

"Something like that," Grouse said. She put her wing out to cover Daniel, but in that same instant, he took a piece of glass that had been in his hand the entire conversation and stuck it into the bird's chest. Grouse's eyes rolled back into her head, and she let out a squawk.

She leaned on Daniel's shoulder as she took her last breath and said, "Why?"

"It's like I said, Grouse. Enemies are necessary because, without them, we would have no focus and, therefore, no purpose. And tonight, my focus and purpose were to kill you, Grouse. Because nobody likes not knowing."

Before he pushed Grouse off the perch. He threw his card out and made it stick to her body with her blood. Her card was a choice card, too. Only this time, Grouse had played right into his hand.

Daniel had pulled a queen of spades, the death card. All he had to do was take his life. Grouse ensured his luck of the draw was that card and his only option. There wasn't any other choice for Daniel.

As he pushed Grouse off the perch, the piece of glass remained in his hand. He put it to his throat and pulled it across from one ear to the other ear. His body plunged from the perch, and he fell on top of Grouse.

Grouse and Daniel, the great pretenders, set one another up and were unaware of each other's preoccupation with taking one another out.

The sun came up, went down, came up and went down so many times in succession until both of their heads exploded in the hot sun, and their brain parts smattered all over the street. The street cleaner came along an hour later, and nothing was left of either Grouse's or Daniel's remains.

From the fire and ash came a character who could only be explained as Steven Snape, with Vanda on his arm. Reincarnated inside a woman's body and a man named Stella and Ray, whose life continued in the little town of Backstabbers.