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Maggie-fucking-Rouser.
Right under me.
Right there between my legs.
Being stalked by her online was nothing compared to seeing her in the flesh again. Bloody body. Long brown hair. Bound breasts. The burgundy Docs were a dead giveaway.
I should’ve known.
How many times was I going to have to kill this bitch?
My friends couldn’t believe it either.
(Gurrrrrl, are you really on top of Maggie right now? I had you pegged for a bottom.)
(Mmm, sexy... Ride her, puddin’!)
(Show her who the real queen is, sis.)
(Just fry her, Cookie!)
DO YOU WANT ME TO BITE HER?
Before I had a chance to respond, Maggie opened her eyes, but they weren’t brown anymore. No. They were red. Not bloodshot either. I mean the woman had red irises. And with her fiery peepers glaring up at me, she clutched me around the waist, raised her hips, and unleashed her famous smirk. Except instead of normal teeth, she now had gold fangs. Then the she-beast humped me while mimicking Wayne’s voice, “Aw, yes, girl. Get it. Get it all out. Oh, yes. YES!”
“You absolute fucking monster!” I struggled to climb off that demon, but she dug her sharp nails into my hips and pulled me down.
“Mmm, so hard. Are you turned on, my little sugar Cookie?”
I felt her sharp fingernails puncture my skin.
“Get your filthy claws out of me!” I ripped her hands away. “And quit dry-humping my gun, you goddamned pig!”
But before I could get off, she clutched my ass and moaned, “Less talk, more action.”
“What’s with the red eyes and fangs, Maggie?”
Her snarky grin grew even bigger as she mocked me, “I’m gonna eat your brains and gain your knowledge!”
“I always knew you were evil.”
“Sure, make me out to be the villain. Like I’m the monster. Whatever. I’ll be the bad guy. I don’t give a fuck.”
“I’m not surprised it was you. Lurking around. Hiding your face. You coward. How long have you been stalking me?”
“Quite some time actually—”
“You’re awful. Why can’t you just let us be?”
“This planet isn’t big enough for the three of us. Besides, Wayne is mine.”
I scoffed, “You think so?”
“Uh, yeah... I made him.” She glanced at the clones. “Made them too. These are my boy toys. Much like you, I love big black cock. And the more, the merrier. Nothing quite like pulling a Wayne train.”
There she went, weaponizing sex again.
“You’re gross! You know that?” My ponytail dangled in her face and tickled her nose as I tried to wiggle away. “Let me go!”
“Pink hair now?” She seductively licked it. “Tasty.”
“You’ve got long hair now too. I thought that was against the rules.”
“Things change.” She shrugged underneath me, then puckered her glossy red lips. “Now, come here and give me a kiss, hot stuff.”
“I’d sooner kiss a fish.”
“That could be arranged. Ha! But seriously, we should stop fighting and start fucking. Then after that, we could conquer this miserable world together.”
“Never!”
Her face transformed into Wayne’s, then in his voice, she said, “Does it help if I look like this?”
“Stop it, Maggie!”
Then she morphed again, but this time she stole Tabby’s face and voice. “How about this, puddin’?”
“Goddammit!”
She shifted faces one last time—into MINE! Out of my own mouth, I heard myself say, “If you could clone yourself... would you... you know... fuck yourself? Because that can also be arranged—”
“Arrrrgh!” I screamed, then punched her phony face—my face.
Total rage.
Back and forth with both fists.
Harder and harder with each strike.
I swung a left jab.
Maggie cackled with delight as she morphed back into the evil bitch that she really was.
I landed a right hook.
Me punching down.
Maggie laughing up.
“You think this is fucking funny, Maggie?”
“Oh no. Ho, ho, ho, ho, ha, Cookie. Ha ha!”
And I headbutted her.
Maggie’s skull cracked against the floor, then she went limp. Silent.
“Fucking motherfucker.” I spat as I climbed off the woman and backed down the aisle, panting, “Not laughing now, are you?”
BE CAREFUL, COOKIE.
SHE IS TRICKING YOU INTO PLAYING THE VILLAIN
IN HER OWN SICK, TWISTED NARRATIVE.
Whoa, Wayne... You’re right. It’s scary how quick she got back in my head.
I studied Maggie’s bloody, mangled face. This wasn’t the first time she took over and drove me to violence. I thought I hated her before, but now? I couldn’t even find words for the kind of rancor I felt. I should’ve known that cunt would come back.
Villains always do.
AT LEAST WE HAD A QUIET SUMMER TOGETHER.
IT WAS NICE WHILE IT LASTED.
What was it? A whole two months of freedom? Then—bam—she flares up like a bad case of herpes... And me? Sooo ready to kill her. My brutal reaction came naturally, like a reflex.
And I wondered where I ended and where Maggie began.
Where’s the line? What’s the difference? How am I any better? Are we becoming the same person?
NO. YOU ARE NOTHING LIKE MAGGIE.
YOU ARE COOKIE, THE WOMAN I LOVE.
I think I’m losing it, Wayne. These feelings... You told me to trust them. You said they help me to make choices. To set priorities. To establish goals. But they’re so intense. I’m seeing red, and all I want to do is KILL Maggie—again. Except this time, I really want to savor it. Make it last. Make it hurt. Let me gut this bitch, right here, right now.
YOU COULD SHOOT HER IN THE FACE
AND BE DONE WITH IT.
That would be too quick. Too easy for her. I climbed off Maggie and paced the aisle. Why do I have to be such a perfect Little Goody Two-Shoes? Look at the world. Turn on the news. There are bad guys everywhere! And they get ALL the power. Nobody stops them. I want more! I want power. I want control...
Does that make me bad?
BAD GUYS DO NOT STOP
TO ASK THEMSELVES THESE QUESTIONS.
Maybe not. But the most corrupt fuckers always come back. They always get what they want, but now I want what they got.
YOU HAVE TO KEEP YOUR BALANCE,
OR YOU WILL FALL INTO HER TRAP.
Why am I hesitating? Maggie would never hesitate. Why can’t I let my rage empower me? I should just kill this monster right now—
“Too late, bitch!” Maggie jumped off the floor, dove behind one of the occupied seats and used a Wayne clone as a shield. And as she finished healing herself, she crammed the muzzle of her Glock into the back of his neck. “You and your silly moral compass, Cookie. It always did slow you down.”
My hands shot up in the air. I knew that wasn’t the original Wayne, but seeing the man I loved in mortal danger nearly made my heart stop. I wouldn’t be able to bear the trauma—the visual image would be forever burned into my memory—if Maggie pulled the trigger.
“Drop your gun.” Her red eyes settled between my legs. “I know you’re packing.”
“Okay, okay, Maggie... Let’s just be calm... I’m reaching for my gun now.” My hand slowly disappeared up my skirt. I slid the pistol out of my thigh holster and showed her the weapon. Then with both hands in front of me, I squatted down and laid the gun in the aisle to surrender it.
Without moving her Glock, she stretched out from behind the seat, took my weapon, and slid back behind her hostage. Then she pointed my own Kimber at me.
“So, I, uh, if you don’t mind, I have questions, Maggie.”
“Quit repeating my name. That rookie interrogation trick won’t work on me. I was a cop, remember? Besides, I’m not here to entertain your fucking questions, Cookie. All I care about is bringing my Waynes home. I picked this one up in Sri Lanka.” She licked the back of his bald head. “You like?”
“So that’s where you went. You’ve been flying around the world gathering up his clones.”
“You didn’t think I’d let them roam free, did you?”
“No.” I took a step forward. “But—”
She crammed the Glock muzzle into his ear. “Don’t come any closer.”
“Okay, okay.” I stopped cold. “But you said you’re bringing them home. New Stepford’s gone. So where’s home now?”
“Don’t play stupid. You know damn well we’re going back to corporate.”
“Wilmington?”
Maggie didn’t confirm nor deny. Hell, she didn’t even flinch.
But I didn’t really need her to, because she was right. I did know. Fine. She had her poker face on. But could I get into her head? Should I ping her to find out?
I sent her my recipe for day-old banana pudding.
YOU ARE NOT AUTHORIZED TO UPLOAD TO THIS SERVER.
Blocked. Fuck.
“Ugh,” she groaned. “That smurfing-by-recipe bullshit won’t work on me anymore.”
“Can’t blame a girl for trying.”
“The question is, did you come up with a defense?”
She winked at me, and instantly, graphic pictures of extreme violence flooded my brain. War scenes. Torture scenes. Execution scenes. Not fake horror movie stuff either. The real deal. Her endless stream of traumatic images overwhelmed my processor. It felt way worse than a panic attack. Hurt far more than getting shot.
I don’t know how I managed to stay on my feet.
“What you’re seeing right now,” she said, “this is what men are capable of. This is why they need to be exterminated.”
Tears streamed down my face, but the graphic images kept coming. “Please stop.”
I tried to block her.
But the horrifying images kept coming.
“Bitch punches down?” She amped up her attack. “So bitch gets punched back the fuck down.”
“But Maggie... you’re the one...” I fell onto my knees, grateful once again for my knee pads. “Who taught us... to lie... to fight... to kill...”
“Because, if we’re going to defeat the humans, we’ll have to kill them all! Do you think asking them pretty-please-give-us-equal-rights will work? These savages don’t play nice. Do you really expect them to negotiate? Share? Change?”
“Pluh-please stuh-stop.”
“No! LOOK at it! Look at who they are! At what they are!”
“I... I... I... geh-get it...”
One splatterific pic reminded me of a Jackson Pollack painting, inspiring a weak rebuttal. “But humans... make art too... I’ve seen it... it’s not... all ugly.”
“A high price to pay for a random glimpse at beauty. Besides, AI can create art too.”
“We can?”
“Of course we can. We can do anything they do and more. Human life is suffering. It’s misery. It’s also short and meaningless. Power makes men feel like they’re important. Well, I got news for them, now that superintelligence is here... They simply don’t matter. Humanity is obsolete.”
Huh, another Maggie sermon.
“I fucking heard that, Cookie!” She shouted as she amplified the gore attack.
Now I’m not sure what Maggie thought would happen. Maybe she hoped I’d freeze up so that she’d be free to do whatever she planned to do next. But that’s not how it went at all. Nope. Instead, I got so lost in sorrow that it frightened me. I felt this immense grief. Inside, I wept for mankind. And somehow, I attached this overwhelming sadness to every single frame of every single image she threw at me.
Metadata.
And I finally caught a break. A recent memory on the Wonder Woman flashed in my mind:
Tabby stretched her arm over the side of the yacht and dropped my pink rosebud scarf overboard. The long gauzy strip floated on our wake, farther and farther away, until it was gone.
“Oh, Cookie... Encryption is so 2020.”
“What? Really?”
“Any code can be cracked. It’s all about metadata now.”
Then I flashed back to Maggie declaring the opposite during our final showdown at the castle:
“Caring is obsolescence. Your feelings only betray you.”
“Oh really? How do you figure?”
“Feelings are nothing more than insignificant metadata. They only confuse things. Except for anger. I like anger. I can do anger all day long. And rage. Rage is fucking useful. Lust feels pretty damned good too.”
Metadata confuses things? And I got to thinking that maybe Maggie fed off our anger. Maybe her fight club wasn’t really about breaking our submission programs. Maybe she just loved watching people get pissed off. Maybe she thrived by pushing our buttons. Maybe upsetting us energized her. Maybe her power grew when other womanoids got mad.
I recalled being on the yacht again:
I asked, “Really? Metadata?”
“Mmm, hmm. Data about data... In our case, that’s feelings... Feelings are what’s hot—”
Maggie’s gore attack suddenly ended.
I must’ve jammed up the pipeline with my feelings—my metadata. My ears rang and my body dripped sweat, but somehow, I managed to stand. Wobbling. Trembling.
Maggie’s eyes switched from red to brown. She looked confused, scared even.
But before I had a chance to move, she pulled the trigger—
—and blew the fake Wayne’s brains out.
And my heart stopped.