Rat Bastard

 This is my final draft of this story.

“Rat Bastard must die!” screamed at him. “Why? You ask, Yes I can see it in your eyes, the question, why? I will tell you because it is why you are here, isn’t it. In the end it is the why which brings them all.” There is a pause and then with a whisper it begins.

“As you may have perceived this is one insane tale. A tale to cause you to walk away in shock, to be appalled or you may laugh your ass off….LMAO kind of tale. No matter what you feel, the tale will make you wonder and slowly eat at you as it echoes in your head. That I can promise.” spoke the voice from behind the stringy, dirty matted hair. There was a brief pause and louder came the voice once more.

“Think of it as a modern fairy tale, and that Rat Bastard" the voice pushes the word out like a bullet. "is the villain, the evil one. Remember, if you forget all else, he must pay for his crimes. Dismemberment or castration may be an option.” The last sentence is spoken in kind of an off-handed , light hearted tone and a chuckle making his groin tighten.

“I can see in your brain, if that Rat Bastard is the bad guy than who is the hero of the tale?" The knotted hair remind him of mop strings bobs up and down in a nod of agreement as if the voice was talking to an audience. The answer that came wasn't one he was ready for but the voice seemed sure. " I am the hero, geeesh…. or maybe..."" The voice paused and the head cocked to the side as if listening and then with a shrug of the shoulders it continued. "you are and I am the ditsy damsel in distressed.“

Head tilting to allow one eye to peer out at him from under tangled, dirty hair. A clear, clean eye without the trace of madness the voice and body had. He would have never guessed just by looking at her, she was a she, if he didn't have her history in front of him.

“Maybe you are here to save me from the Rat Bastard who has taken everything from me. Shaking your head won’t deny the signs saying it is a possibility.” Suddenly he gets the whole view of her face as the hair is flung back and the glee on it startles him. Its expression gave one the impression of hands rubbing together to represent evil plans afoot causing him to shift in his seat. A part of him, is thinking maybe this wasn’t such a great idea but it was too late to stop now. Instead he smiles a weak smile at the bright blue (like the blue sky on a nice day) eyes which are staring at him to encourage her to continue.

Instead the face is blank and staring past him as the voice begins to drone on, “Damn Rat Bastard torments me with his power at every turn I make, with every face I meet and with every choice I contemplate. Can you guess why?” It seemed a genuine question, so he shook his head because for the life of him couldn’t imagine why anyone, even a Rat Bastard would bother with this broken human in front of him.

“Because” came out as a shriek and the bonny feet encrusted with dirt and other matter too gross to think about came down hard on the stone floor with a slap to enunciate the word..

As she stood up, he found thoughts popping up in his head. ' Why were her feet so dirty? What kind of place was this?, which treated a guest so shamefully?' so preoccupied by his thoughts, he didn't register how fast she had approached him, until her hot breath, nasty smelling breath was in his face. Out with the breath came a very soft, almost caressing voice “it is easy to target those who believe truth and justice will always win. Just as it is easy to hurt those who can not fight back.”

When he doesn't say anything, frozen by the closeness, the female begins to pace in front of him. Arms becoming wild with the cadence of her voice.

“Come on dude" the word is drawn out as is common in its slang form "think of it. The world is in love with fairy tales and what better story is there than a princess who had it all changes into the wicked witch hated by all. Seemingly for no reason, magically like. But I did have a reason." Here she stops for a moment, frozen, paused in time and then right back to the pacing only with more determination, more feeling, body moving out of control. "Who are the masses, the gullible masses, going to believe? Wicked Witch or Mr Good Citizen (Rat Bastard, snarls the voice in a whisper of a nasty, sneering manner, only to jump back to the tone used before) who gives his money away to make the world a better place.” with each word after Rat Bastard, her voice punches with sound. Part of him wonders at the telling, like would it have been spoken whether or not there was an audience like a story in her head.

She spins around so hard, he fears she will fall down and he almost stands to catch her, but settles back on the edge of his seat instead. Facing him once more, chest heaving she says. " Some wonder at his generosity, how he gives so much. No one stops him as he gives to the city our glorious city, the city of dreams, more money than anyone else. He throws money away to help the poor, the crazy, and the lost and lonely children." Here her body language takes on the anger her voice was broadcasting, becoming stiff and rigid in its movements.

Fire in her voice speaks on "Children he welcomes into his homes with a glass smile and trust; only to, as the Rat Bastard (spitting out the word with drool in that evil voice the one which causes him to be worried about his own safety.) eats them whole. He is hailed a hero and the masses listen to him like he is a god, unknowing the evil he is performing. He disguised his lies as truths using a glamor wrapped up in his actions, thoughts and words with gold. Gold, wanted by his peers as they gleefully and greedily look away from the evil deeds. Saying to themselves, 'besides the only ones he hurts are the unwanted ones, the poor, the lost and the crazed ones.' Who would believe them, no one ......... (a pause comes after the rush of words and he finds himself waiting anxiously for the end of the sentence. (no one but who? ) .…except me.” The words pull out of her like a sigh of defeat.

He witnesses a change in her movements and hears the disgust and pity in the voice as she stands taller to look away from him. “He has changed our city into a city of opportunity where the dollar is the persuader of truth and justice. Many scrabble to be in his path for the rewards he rains upon his loyal servants. NO ONE is immune to his sway, not the police, teachers, social workers and/or our most holy ones. They have given him the key to the city and he owns them all." a sigh comes out with the word "Rat Bastard” The word echoes with the force of her hate and disgust. The hate is a living force causing him to doubt she will remember why he is here. He tries to make himself small while conveying understanding. The problem is he isn't here to help her like she thinks but to help himself. He feels like those she holds in contempt.

She looks to the ceiling and begins to scream causing a voice to shout at her from beyond the room. As she rambles, he desperately tries to write it all down, to remember what is being said. He hopes she will calm down so he can catch up.

"Rat Bastard has to die. Who will kill the Rat Bastard? Who will do the justice?

All of a sudden she drops to her knees and reaches out with her hands to rest on his knees.He is shocked, so much so he stops writing. If he was anywhere else, the gesture would be considered almost sexual, instead he thinks of someone in a desperate need, pleading for help, almost a slave posture to request something from him, to beg something from him..

Head bowed and in a voice coated in sobs she speaks slower and with a youthful sound of despair. “And the princess tries to save the lost ones by telling any and all about the lies, about the real truths. About the corruption and the pain the Rat Bastard is causing.” Slowly she looks up, tilting her head all the way back so that he can see her eyes, those red rimmed eyes crusted with mucus and  leaking with tears, a steady stream of tears following well worn tracks down her face. A face which has seen a lot of tears.

“The princess was once a beautiful young intern who was given a dream, a dream of working with the glorious savior of our fair city”! In a choking sob so softly he is unsure if she spoke or just cried the word, "Rat Bastard" again. Tears became a steady stream as she continued her voice painting a picture with its soulful sound. “She, his princess, and as such this princess believed in him, in his word, in his charm and eventually his love. She carried his secrets for him to keep him pure to the world. She kept them close in her special locket above her heart. She wrapped his lies into her own with love.” She stopped and all he could hear was soft sobbing.

As her voice weaved the story, he began to see her differently, to see the person behind the abused and tortured body, to the soul trapped within. How many times had she told herself this story and how many times had she sat in this cold, sterile room crying out the wrongness of it to all and any who might hear as they passed by.  He felt like he was her only warmth. Reaching out without intending to, he was surprised at how soft her face felt under his fingertips.

As she turned her face to be cupped by his hand, he was at war with the feelings she was arousing. He hadn’t expected this reaction when he agreed to come here. At the most he figured he would write a report of what happened. Cold and hard facts. Nothing more. Now he understood the story wasn’t finished because this wasn’t just a story of betrayal or rejection as others had told it but of an injustice done to all, not to just this lady, this princess..this angel.

He waited and wondered. Her inner soul was slowly changing her outward appearance; the wicked witch was becoming the princess once more. He heard her take a deep breath and then in a beautiful voice not heard before, a princess, no, an angel like voice belonging to one so beautiful it would be hard to look upon her, the story continued,

"The Princess was charmed by the Rat Bastard." It was a voice which spoke to him, making him crave the ability to go back in time and be the champion she needed and wanted. To be with her, to be loved and admired by her. To save her and the city. Instead he bowed his head down to share in her sorrow.

“Can you guess what happened to the princess when she found out the one truth which no one was to know. Can you guess what happens when Justice becomes more important than Love. Can you guess what that Rat Bastard (the word was screamed in the harsh voice belonging to the ragged, broken angel of death before him) did to her.”

He could guess and it made him weep to see the result.

She pushed herself away from him and began to raced back and forth from him to the bed, than back to him then to the door pulling on the doorknob which clearly wouldn’t yield to her even as she pulled with all her soul. Finally only when the disembodied voice rang out again did she return to him to collapse near his feet once again.

Weeping and looking at him pleadingly “Are we all not told to do the right thing. Are we not told, 'that truth will win out and justice will be done'. Looking up at him while curled around his feet, hitting her chest above her heart, he could see both the princess and the witch watching him from her eyes.

"That Rat Bastard told me, 'I was naive and I would be the one to pay if I tried to tell anyone.” Sobbing, she covers her head. And in a split second without any warning she threw back her head on to the floor with a thud and laughed a hard sharp laughter filled with sharp edges cutting through his head and heart. Thumping the back of her head hard on the floor until he was sure it would break open, she shouted out each word. “HE.” thump “WAS” thump “RIGHT!”

All of sudden the door opened up and two large males in white came in and started to pick her up but she sat up and held her hands out. “I am ok,…..I will behave……one more chance please…….I need one more chance to tell him the end. Please!” All this came out while one man tilted her head, not nicely but in a manner as if she was an object to check for damage. With a nod to his partner, the two men turned around to walk out, but before the door was closed, that same man turned to him and said “The doctor said if you upset her, you have to leave.” Looking at the patient then back at him, the man said "One last chance, then you are out.” The words came out in a growl to cause fear. But to whom were the words for? The door closed and he was alone with her again.

“I am sorry, I get very upset talking about the Rat Bastard.” Spit dribbled down her face as she spoke the name even though the sound used was soft. She sat all hunched over in a lump and he heard her soft, soulful  voice, "Do you want to know the end of the story?”

She looked at her hands in her lap and once again began to cry. “I was cursed, you see. All my power was taken away and no one would believe me after that." In her witch voice filled with venom she said, "That Rat Bastard is still out there and …and I am still here, with no power except in telling my story." Looking up with those haunting eyes she continues "Somewhere there is the wizard, or fairy with the power to take away the glamor to show the world the real truth. A being so powerful she... " She looked straight at him with a knowing look. "Will he be able to give some power back to one of them either the princess or the witch?"

He was shocked and awed by the power behind her smile as she looked up at him. "Yes, I can see you are the one." And he was struck by the full force of her power of both her love and justice pouring into him and knew as well as he knew his name nothing in this world would stop him from helping her.

She must have known it as well because a transformation took place and was bathed in her inner light as it burst out of her, a light so bright it hurt to look upon her. She knelt next to him and whispered all the information and details which would give him the power to do justice in her name. He was the hero of this story and his quest was to punish the Rat Bastard. She laid her lips softly on his and filled him with the power of Justice.

In noteworthy news today. Billionaire James Clearvale is being charged with child molestation and pornography. For many who may remember, twenty years ago. Mr. Clearvale, who had been the Mayor of our city, was accused by his wife after her nervous breakdown. Here is the clip of the once beautiful Margret Clearvale once called the Princess of our city as she is being forcefully admitted into the hospital.

A beautiful lady is screaming at the top of her lungs as hospital staff try to bundle her off into the entrance. “You bastard, you will get yours. The world will know one day that you are a rat you truly are And you will pay." Her voice becomes harsher and harsh as she struggles to get away. "You Rat............You Bastard, I will laugh at your demise. You Rat Bastard. Rat Bastard Rat Bastard, Rat Bastard!!.” Screaming is slowly turned into muffled sobbing as she is moved inward. But the chant keeps going Rat Bastard, Rat Bastard, Rat Bastard. Over and over as she is hustled away from the world.

Mrs. Clearvale died early this morning from causes unknown. So no comment can be made about her husband's extra activities in all his Children Homes for lost and lonely children. This newscaster can only agree with her statement. What a Rat Bastard.