Bloody Revenge

Prompt Day #346: Throw a basin of blood into the face of a fashionista

I know someone (someone very close to me and my writing) who might be pissed at me for this one, but I think she’ll understand and ultimately forgive me. 😉

Bloody Revenge


Not all monsters are ugly. And there are those who live right out in the open for everyone to see. They are the most dangerous and the hardest to stop. I know. I have dedicated my life to the eradication of one such fiend. Which is what brings me here today with this bucket of pig’s blood. Why pig’s blood you ask, let me tell you a little story.

When I was sixteen, horror movies were all the rage. Nightmare on Elm Street, Friday the 13th, Halloween all the great slasher films built the background to my adolescence. I spent my Saturdays at the movies, first with my buddies and later, when puberty hit, with my girlfriends. The thing about being a nubile young man at the height of slasher films was the sexual gratuity of the films. It was like one of those weird “lessons” your dad tried to teach you: He catches you smoking so he makes you smoke the entire pack to teach you, but it doesn’t work, never does. All of these movies were filled with topless babes fucking their feather haired jock boyfriends and no matter how hot they were, they always died. The frumpy good girl survived. “Don’t do what we’re doing or you might get killed” the perfect-tits and ass nameless siren would say in her best movie scream.

We weren’t buying it. So we took our dates to the theater, let them get good and scared and then see how long it took us to talk them out of their own tops. Not that our little A-cup beauties could ever hold a candle to the scream queens of the early 80’s. There was one in particular with big jugs and a meaty ass that seemed to show up in every movie. The little blonde-headed Farrah Faucet wanna-be that got sliced open in one of the first scenes. Jillian Dawes. God how I loved her. I was probably the only kid who knew her name back then. Of course everyone knows her now, but let me get to that when I get to it.

The thing about actresses like Jillian, they were the ones to show up at the Cons. The ones who’d stand and smile for pictures with you, sign her name on her 8×10 press shots, that sort of thing. So, you better believe I went to every one I could talk my parents into letting me get into. Jillian Dawes, what a fox. Now, that’s not to say less about the girl I called mine back then. Michelle Ripley wasn’t someone you’d kick out of bed if you know what I mean. And she was different than the rest of the girls in our school. She was intelligent and not afraid to show it. She loved horror. Movies, books, conventions, you name it and she was always down for going with me. The best part was, she never minded my obsession with Jillian Dawes. She even told me once that she thought Jillian was sexy too. Back in the eighties, girls didn’t say that stuff just to sound cool. And that made her that much cooler.

The one other thing it’s important for you to know about Michelle, is that she was a virgin. Now, can I say for a medical fact she was, no. I can’t. But I can say with the same amount of certainty that she was. Michelle didn’t go for shit like that. Sure, we made out, she gave me a hand job once in the back of the car after prom, but never more. Michelle was a woman ahead of her time.

Our first year of college, Michelle and I were still going strong. She called me up one day and told me to sit down. “Jillian Dawes is going to be filming a movie in our hometown. We’re going to skip the rest of the week, they’re looking for extras.” I don’t know which of us was more excited. The chance to actually work with Jillian Dawes gave me a stiffy.

So we ended up taking a withdraw and instead working as extras on the movie set. We told ourselves it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Turns out college was and neither one of us ever ended up going back.

Jillian Dawes, by this time, was nearing thirty and it was starting to show slightly around her eyes and mouth, but only those up close could really see. Bottom line for Ms. Dawes: she wouldn’t be the teen hottie getting gutted for fucking her boyfriend in the summer camp. Now she would be playing the mother of one of those girls, sure, one who goes after the killer for revenge but the mother just the same. She hated it. Anyone on the set could see that. And she hated the teens who were playing all her old parts. Poor Michelle had a run in with Jillian more than once.

But then, one day, Michelle came to show me a hand written invite from Ms. Dawes inviting her to Jillian’s trailer. She said she had heard through the grapevine that Jillian was feeling guilty about how she’d been treating the younger women and wanted to make amends. I remember kissing her goodbye, telling her to have a good time and that was the last I ever saw of her.

Jillian claimed Michelle never showed up and a week later, when Michelle’s body was found a few miles away in a shallow grave and drained of all blood, she was written up as a run-away who ran into the wrong person and the case went cold.

Michelle’s disappearance and subsequent murder was the first in a series of strange and unfortunate events associated with the film and soon, the financial backers pulled out and the movie was canned. Jillian Dawes went into seclusion for a few years. I was probably the only person in the world who hadn’t forgot about her. Only now, my interest had become more of a paranoid obsession. You see, I had walked Michelle all the way to the line of star trailers that day. I watched her knock on the door and I saw Jillian let her in. I know she was lying about not seeing Michelle.

After that, Jillian began showing up late for scenes, calling in sick, and lashing out angrily for the littlest things. But even more strange, where one would expect her to look the part of the crazy aging starlet, she looked like her old self again. She had a glow about her and the crow’s feet had faded from her eyes. It was such a paradox, I couldn’t believe no one else noticed.

They only noticed when she stopped coming to work at all but by then, the whole project was going under so no one really cared all that much anyways. The movie died, and Jillian Dawes, once again faded into anonymity.

But not with me. I followed her to upstate New York when she opened an acting school, and I noted it when two of her female students went missing and not long after, the school shut down and Jillian Dawes fell off the face of the earth yet again. The girls’ bodies were found some time later, both girls’ necks had been slashed.

Jillian seemed to leave a trail of dead girls everywhere she went yet no one but me ever saw a connection. These girls were college and high school drop outs, they were the real life versions of the girls Jillian played in her movies. They were run-aways seeking fame and fortune. No one cared too much to put two and two together, plus Jillian didn’t keep class records, so no one could say they girls had ever been there. Funny, the other classmates never spoke up. But I knew she had something to do with it and as the years went on and I became a full time stalker, I began to develop a theory.

Jillian resurfaced again this time under the name Dylan Lawes as a fashion designer. Yes, THE Dylan Lawes. The one putting on the show here tonight. I’ve followed her career and I’ve seen her face in every magazine worth its salt. I know it’s her. She isn’t fooling anyone. Did you read recently about how poor Dylan had several models run out on their contracts recently? Did you know these models were young run-aways trying to make it big? Weird, right?

You think I’m crazy? You think Dylan is far too young to be the same girl who was her age in 1980? You are right, it makes no sense, haven’t we all aged? Have you heard of Elizabeth Bathory, “The Blood Countess”? She is considered one of the most prolific female serial killers in history. You haven’t heard of her? Hmm, just like many have never heard of Jillian Dawes.

The Blood Countess is estimated to have killed as many as 650 young girls. Why? There are many theories, but the one that intrigues me the most tells of her using the blood of these virginal victims to bathe in as part of her beauty routine. It is said the blood keeps her looking young. I think a young actress suckled on the teat of gory slasher films probably had heard about her and probably was more curious than repulsed. I think she threw out all her Avon and Mary Kay and invested in something a little darker. That’s what I think. And I believe it started with Michelle. My Michelle.

So, now it’s time to pay her back. Why the pig’s blood? Because a pig is exactly what she is. Did you know that pigs on farms sometimes kill and even eat their newborn young? It’s true. Have you heard the phrase “you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear”? Now, after everything I’ve told you, don’t you think pi’s blood is my best chance for exposing her for what she really is? A sadistic, murderous, egomaniacal witch?

Don’t try to stop me. If I’m wrong, so what…a pitiful little fashionista gets her feelings hurt and I get carted off to jail. But if I am right, you may just see something centuries in the making. Here she comes, watch out now….ready?