Kill Beryl

Chapter 2

Zoisite's wheelchair made a loud screeching noise as she hurtled into the car park. Since she'd woken up, her senses seemed more acutely tuned than ever. Boiling like sulphur at the pit of her stomach was a ball of intense rage that threatened to engulf her, but she managed to keep her mind on finding Buck's car. There would be plenty of time for her anger later. Speeding along the rows of cars, she thought it was a hallucination or a trick of the light. She stopped suddenly, and wheeled slowly backwards to get a good look. And for a good five minutes, she was speechless.

Buck's car was a huge yellow jeep with shiny hubcaps and seven sets of sunglasses in the front window. But the real kicker was the logo PUSSY WAGON written in foot high, hot pink bubble writing on the sides and the bonnet. It was Buck's car, all right.

" Pussy Wagon," breathed Zoicite, " What a wanker."

Pressing the alarm button on the set of keys, she wheeled around to the door and, using the door as a crutch, she attempted to stand. Her legs lasted two minutes before she collapsed, and she had to pull herself into the car using just her hands. She flopped out over the back seat, exhausted. After a few minutes of just listening to herself breathe, she let the previous feeling of anger wash over her.

Zoicite didn't know whether she wanted to cry, or scream, or just sleep. Her mind sought out who she could blame for her current condition: the Sailor Senshi, Prince Endymion, the ambulance crew who brought her here, the doctors who couldn't wake her up, the list went on… but at the top of this list, a constant presence was Beryl. Zoicite managed to keep perfectly silent. Then, in a stern voice, she started instructing her body to wake itself up.

" Wiggle your toes. All of them. Wiggle your toes. All of them…"

Six hours later, Pussy Wagon hit the road, heading for Okinawa.


Vincent Vega cast his eyes over the comatose women's ward, now with one missing. Buck was hacked up pretty bad, and Eddie was hard to remove from his spot on the lever. The morgue department was taking its sweet time with the body bags.

" Maurice! Getcher ass over here!"

" Yes, sir?"

Maurice skittered across the floor to the chief, who was staring at the empty bed and rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

" Four years, Maurice. Four fuckin' years. Four years of lying here in this cesspool of human misery. And now she's gone. What's your report saying so far?"

" Seems like a kidnap job, sir. Old boyfriend, maybe. Pimp's a possibility too. Guy comes in here, hacks up the nurse, then does a job on the visitor when he stumbles in. But we haven't ruled out the possibility that it was the missing woman."

" Say what?"

" Well, she might have woken up, disoriented, scared, tried to defend herself from the nurse if she thought he was going to hurt her."

" Maurice, that is Grade-A bullshit! How old was that girl?"

" Well, sir, we don't…"

" ROUGHLY how old?"

" Between eighteen and twenty-four, sir."

" Weight, height?"

" Five-four, just under hundred pounds."

" Now Maurice, how in the good Lord's name could that little cherry blossom have done this much damage to two young men in the prime of their lives? And take a good look at the fat fucker over there! Well, she'd have to be some sort of super woman, wouldn't she now?"

" *sigh* Yes, sir."

" Then cross off all that happy horseshit."

In a coffee bar downtown, Maurice ordered a double cappuccino with skimmed milk and Inspector Vega managed somehow to get a beer. They continued discussing the case beside a window facing the street.

" If I may be so bold, sir, could I ask why you're taking so much interest in this case?"

" Don't you remember the first time you were touched by a very special woman, Maurice?"

" Well, no, sir. I'm gay."

" Gay? Since when?"

" I've always been gay, sir."

" How the hell did you get into the police force?"

" Mystery to me too, sir."

" Shit. Well, I dunno if this applies to faggots, but the first time you're touched by a real special gal, you remember it forever. I remember my first blowjob, first hand job, first fu…"

" I get it, sir."

" Four years ago, I tried to cop a feel off of a Janey in a cornfield. She fought through mental and physical paralysis just to give me a slap on the pus. Right here *he pointed to the exact spot on his cheek.* Now that's a woman. And I think we owe it to her to put our full energy into this case."

" Whatever you say, sir."

The two men supped their drinks, while a jeep with the words PUSSY WAGON emblazoned on the sides sped past the window.


"… and put it all in this bag. Is that clear, Shuichi?"

Shuichi nodded slowly, and turned around to go to the bank vault. It was a fairly normal day in the Okinawa regional bank, except that only three tellers were working, all male, and the person who was holding up the bank. Zoicite was wearing clothes she had borrowed from the boot of Pussy Wagon, but she had no money, so she had decided it would be a good idea to rob a bank. Did she have a gun? No. A knife? Nope. A Baseball bat? No. All she had was the clothes on her back and Pussy Wagon.

So now, a young woman was robbing a bank with no weapons. Well, that wasn't true. Just before she'd gone into the bank, she'd pulled her t-shirt up around her arms to expose her breasts. Then, she'd walked up to Shuichi and asked him for the money. He had obliged enthusiastically, while the other two tellers just stared goggle-eyed at Zoicite's assets. After getting the money, she left the bank, pulled down her top and sped off in Pussy Wagon. When the police investigated the case, the only description the tellers could give of the robber was that she had a fantastic pair of tits.


A few hours later, Pussy Wagon was parked outside a hotel. Zoicite had just finished buying some new clothes and eaten the first meal she'd had since waking up. The first thing she did when she got to her room was to wash away the accumulated filth that the hospital had left her with. Now, clean, healthy and mad as hell, she was ready to concentrate on her future plans. She took out the hotel stationary, cheerily printed with ENJOY SUNNY OKINAWA! as the letterhead. She scrawled her plans quickly with a red marker.

1: Kill Sailor Mercury.

2: Kill Sailor Venus.

3: Kill Sailor Jupiter.

4: Kill Sailor Mars.

5: Kill Sailor Moon.

6: Kill Tuxedo Mask.

Then, on the other half of the page,


She tossed the page onto the night table, and listlessly grabbed the remote. She closed her eyes as the television chattered away.

"… pounds with red-blonde hair, petite build, thought to be still comatose…"

Solicited opened one eye.

" Profilers say the kidnapper may be a man of Caucasian origin, no older than thirty, with lean build. If you have any information regarding this incident, call this number now. The Jane Doe kidnapper is considered very dangerous and highly unstable…"

She couldn't believe her ears. Not only had she been cleared of killing those two guys in the hospital, but some poor bastard was going to take the fall for her! Was there some way she could turn this into even more of an advantage? Looking at the screen, she memorized the number and picked up the phone. Ideas struck her with every push of the button. She remembered unexpectedly Nephrite's little girlfriend. And when the phone was answered, she pinched her nose and squeaked down the receiver.

" Hello? My name's Molly, Oh, my Gawd, I just saw Jane Doe!"


Couldn't resist using Naru's dub voice. Sorry.