The Bad Bitches Club

[Cake]

Well now, that was rude.

"Oh sure!" A few seconds of contemplation. "Why don't I just show you instead."

One of G18's three former sources of firearm power was pulled up from the ground into view, barrel pointed forward at it's previous owner.

"Here's one of your hard earned weaponry," G29 continued to grin. "Don't worry. You'll see Miranda really soon."

G29 let the lead man-ripper roar.

[Pippi]

There was a brief, happy little moment, where nothing happened, and Bunny could imagine that her persona was better than Wendy’s, and in just a couple more seconds, the other girl would throw herself to the floor and give all of Bunny’s weapons back and beg for forgiveness, and she’d be able to choose, at her leisure, whether Wendy lived or not (the answer was not, of course. Motherfuckin’ binch deserved everything that was coming to her).

Then the gun was pulled up, and Bunny shrieked in terror, throwing the covers off of herself, as if they would block bullets, and diving to the floor, mind reeling, only able to desperately pray that she would make it in time.

The white hot sting that pierced her shoulder and the side of her face told her everything she needed to know about that.

She cried out in pain, sprawling to the floor in a heap, legs still tangled up in the sheets, agony riddling her left side.

There was a brief moment of clarity as the pain reared back to attack again, and Bunny saw a brief moment of fortune.

Her bag, inches away from her face. Wendy, aiming downwards, preparing to finish her off. She felt the confusion and hurt and frustration and the fury build up inside of her, and she burst up, grabbing the strap of her bag and charging into Wendy shoulder-first. It was clumsy, her foot just about disentangling itself from the sheets to stop her from tripping up again, but it didn’t need to be anything but.

She just needed a gun, and she just needed to get the hell out of here.

Her free hand, scrabbling around, caught hold of one of the guns resting at Wendy’s feet, and she carried on barrelling forwards, fuelled entirely by instinct, towards the closest exit.

The window swung open as Bunny crashed into it, one pane shattering as her foot caught it, the others following suit as it swung and smashed against the outside wall of the cabin. She rolled over, vision a blur of green and blue, and she felt flames round her ankles, both from the glass shards embedded in them and from the fire that she now knew was enveloping the cabin.

Bunny scrambled to her feet and carried on running forwards the moment the soles of her shoes touched the ground. She wasn’t gonna be able to run on the momentum of pain forever, and she knew it. She had to make the most of it whilst she could, and get the heck outta dodge.

Bunny ran, as dark grey plumes of smoke began to rise up into the sky behind her.

((Bunny Barlowe continued in A Rabbit In My Future))

[Cake]

That hurt.

Worse. She. Got away.

"What do you think we should do, Mr. Dolph?"

...

"Good idea."

[[Wendy Fischer Continued To: A Rabbit In My Future]]