The Cottonmouth Rescues Her Darling
rating: +7+x

So, you've found my journal. You probably know who I am. The Cottonmouth.

I've always wondered why they call me that. Perhaps because I'm dangerous, or maybe because I'm not a very smooth-talker compared to others like me.

However, speaking doesn't really matter when my fist is crashing into your face.

Anyways, welcome. I suppose I should give you a reward for finding this, huh? Perhaps… I can interest you in a little story. A tale, of sorts.

Let me tell you about how I, the tenacious Cottonmouth, rescued my soulmate— and lustrous wife— from the hands of the malevolent organization they call The Foundation.

It all started when I met her. A lonely, passionate beacon in this dark world that made my stomach leap every time she spoke a syllable from her ever-smiling mouth. Her name was Claire, and she was, simply put it, irresistible.

But, then again, she was a real… Femme fatale, you see. Whenever men would see her, their hearts would be set aflame.

And, well, burned to ashes.

It was a good thing for me since it eliminated my competition, and a good thing for her, because she wasn't exactly interested in men. A strong, formidable woman like me, though? Oh, she fell in love with me from the moment she saw me! Heh, I'm bragging, aren't I?

We were very delighted to be in each other's company. In fact, I bet you're reading this in the house that we built together. Lovely, isn't it?

Anyways, due to her condition, she couldn't really go out that often. We also weren't particularly liked by the small village nearby… They spread rumors, telling all the schoolchildren, "don't go to the south side of town, or the witch will burn your heart out!"

This gossiping produced fear, and with fear came The Foundation. They had taken interest in these irritating rumors.

So, one day, I came home to find a van sitting outside of our house, and I instantly jumped to action. I took out my pistol and sneaked forwards, stationing myself right behind a tree. A woman was speaking to her colleague.

"Alright, the sweep is complete, we should get back to the Site," she said, "the other van's almost halfway back already with the girl. Nice first mission if you ask me," she chuckled.

I clicked my pistol's safety off as the second woman hopped into the driver's seat. The other opened up the back of the van, and I tackled her inside, placing my gun to her head with my other hand cupped over her mouth.

"Scream. I dare you. Or do you want to see what happens?" There was a small rumble as the van started up, driving away from my house.

She nodded her head 'no' with panicked eyes. "Speak quietly. Where is she?"

I pulled my hand away, and she gasped pitifully, begging me, "P— please don't kill me…"

"Answer my question and I'll consider it."

"At the Site! We're going there now, please just don't—"

I hit her with the butt of my gun, knocking her out cold just as the van stopped. A few seconds later, the back door opened, the driver on the other side.

"What the—" Luckily, before she could make too much hubbub, I dragged her into the van, closed the door, and shot her. She had a Level Three keycard, which proved to be very useful when I exited the van, fully disguised in her plain black suit.

They easily waved me through when I showed them my stolen keycard. I have to admit, for a secret organization like them, their security was quite lackluster. The only minor bump I came across was when one of the guards questioned me: "I thought you were coming back with your partner?"

"She decided to stay back and search the house further." The foolish boy believed me, so, taking advantage of his ludicrousy, I asked him, "Where's the woman the other team bought back?"

"Ah, one of the temporary containment cells, I believe. Uh… 20134, down the hall and to the left."

I thanked him and drove a bullet through his heart, following his accommodating directions. Using my keycard, I scanned the containment cell's door open, and my alluring Claire looked up at me, an orange jumpsuit having replaced her usual blue dress.

She hugged me, crying out my name. "Thank God you're here! They— they wanted to keep me here, forever!"

My heart dropped in my chest, my teeth gritting together as I looked at her. My fists clenched together, and I felt something I hadn't ever felt before.

Pure, unbridled rage.

She hid behind me as I stormed out of the cell. The sound of quickly approaching footsteps echoed through the halls as I reloaded my trusty pistol, just in case I'd need to shed more blood. But as a troop of a half-dozen men rounded the corner, I realized that wouldn't be necessary.

Even under their shaded masks, I could see that their faces were red. They were staring at Claire, whom was cowering behind me, the poor girl…

"Miss, uh, can I, um, contain you? I- if you know what I mean…"

"C-can I get you anything?"

"Do you, um, want to go out with me?!"

They spouted their endless humiliating confessions, innuendoes, and questions, their speech getting faster and faster until smoke was pouring from their mouths.

I consider myself to be a hardened warrior. I've seen horrible things— and I've actually done plenty more. I've seen bodies that were ripped in half, both sides still living and moving. But this smoldering sight had to be one of the worst things I've ever laid my eyes on.

Eventually, they dropped to the ground. I don't know what made them last so long, but I didn't want to stick around to figure it out. I carried Claire out of there in the classic bridal style, running past the dead security man, through the front gates, and back to our house.

And then, to celebrate, we snorted a shit-ton of cocaine.

Ah, I jest! This is a drug-free household, of course. However, it's not an explosive-free household.

Now, if my hypothesis is correct, the bomb should go off in three seconds.

This is for imprisoning my Claire, you Foundation scum.


The Cottonmouth and Claire watched from the top of a nearby mountain as their house— surrounded by numerous black vans and Foundation personnel— exploded, setting the surrounding forest aflame. Those who didn't die instantaneously likely got swallowed up by the fire. They smiled.

"So, what now?" Claire asked.

"We build a new house," The Cottonmouth chuckled, snuggling against her partner, "and we try and keep a bit more of a lower profile this time."

They stood, sharing a short laugh, taking a final look at the inferno that had once been their home before they left to start anew.

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