Does life seem nasty, brutish and short, come on up to the house

Dakota was not sure how this whole “confession” thing was supposed to go.

Oh, she understood the logistics of it. It was hard not to, after all. You confess your sins, express your remorse, and obtain absolution of them. Then you were free of guilt and could go on sinning as much as you liked. That was how the movies always portrayed it, anyway.

But she knew that the reality of the situation was slightly different. For one thing, Mary wasn’t actually a priest. So any “absolution” she received would only be an illusion.

For another thing… Dakota wasn’t exactly a religious person. It came with the territory, being dead and all. Maybe things like heaven and hell were real (Dakota had certainly met her fair share of demons from other seasons, but with the existence of alternate realities how much stock she could put into things like that was suspect, to say the least) but in truth the twisted woman did not hold much stock in there being some great **** out there guiding her life, expecting great things from her and granting her salvation.

After all, Dakota already had something like that. The producers. They were a far more tangible “God” to her than anything crafted in Mary’s stories, sickeningly enough.

“So where do I begin…” Dakota muttered to herself, digging her nails into the uncomfortable bench she was sitting on. This whole confession booth felt uncomfortable if she was being honest. It was small and tight, like the walls were closing in on her. Sure, she could adjust the space with a wave of her cane, but some intrinsic, burning pit in her gut was keeping her from doing that.

Unnerved, Dakota pushed those errant thoughts aside, and closed her eyes.

“Tell me what you’ve done wrong,” Mary’s gentle voice reached her ears. “Don’t worry. This is a place free of judgment. I just want to listen to you. To help you. I’m here for you, Dakota.”

That seemed like such a twisted thing to say. “I’m here for you.” What did Mary even mean by that?

“You’re not here for me,” Dakota snorted, shaking her head. “You’re here for you, Mary.”

Dakota’s sensitive ears picked up an uncomfortable shifting sound in the other side of the confession booth, and she sneered. Just as she suspected.

“That’s the truth, isn’t it?” Dakota continued, goading Mary as best she could. “The way you feel right now… it’s hard to fully grasp your real feelings. You think you’re doing the best you can, you think you’re trying to do the good, noble thing… but you’re really just being selfish. Because you know that if you can get on my good side, then you can turn me into your ally… be the little angel on my shoulder, telling me to go easier on all the other girls. Very sneaky, Mary… very sneaky indeed. But fine. I’ll indulge you a little. It’s the least I can do, considering the happiness you’ve brought into my dear Nick’s life.”

She waited intently, straining her ears to listen for Mary’s response. But there was a remarkably calm quietness from past the screen.

“…Do you always do that?” Mary finally asked, catching Dakota by surprise. “Look for the worst in people and try to nudge them in that direction?”

Dakota smirked. She’d gotten under Mary’s skin with that one, she could tell. “It comes with the territory,” she said with a sneer in her voice. “I am the host, after all. My whole job is about twisting the hearts of people in the direction best suited for quality entertainment.”

More silence. Dakota sat in anticipation of what Mary would say next.

“…I thought that the job of the host was to bring happiness to the master?” Mary asked quietly. “In this case, Nick.”

Dakota’s smile fell from her face, and a scowl took its place. “Excuse me?” She growled out.

Mary continued, “You say that everything you’re doing is for Nick. So is that the truth? Or is what you just told me the truth? This won’t work if you’re not being honest with me, Dakota.”

Dakota’s frown morphed into a full-on scowl. Who did Mary think she was?! “Well, listen to you,” she griped, tapping her cane loudly on the floor. “Acting all high and mighty now. You think you can tell me how to conduct my own confession?”

“Kind of why I’m here, isn’t it?” Mary replied. “If you’d rather not participate, then I can just leave.”

It was a bluff. Dakota knew it was a bluff. Mary had already tipped her hand earlier, when Dakota had threatened to walk out on her. Now she thought she could play coy and flip the script around? Try and pretend like SHE was the one with the leverage here?

Dakota could respect a bold play, even if she didn’t respect the woman making it.

“Fine,” she conceded, not like it really mattered anyway. She leaned back in her chair and tapped her fingernails on the wood.

“Good,” Mary said, not quite sure what agreement they’d just arrived at, but just glad Dakota had settled down. “Now then. You said before that you thought I… was doing this out of selfishness, is that right?”

Dakota grunted, not wanting to repeat herself. Or more likely, not wanting to let on that she’d just been messing around with the other woman.

“Well… I think we both know that’s not really like me,” Mary said, reasserting herself. Dakota could hear the strength entering her voice, and it made her sick. “I really do want to help you, Dakota. Now, you’re not wrong that your happiness would make things easier for all of us… that is something I’m considering. But even if nothing changes for you… I still want to help you, alright?”

A feeling of discomfort welled up in Dakota’s chest. Mary and her altruism. It made the host sick to her stomach.

“Look at you,” she grumbled. “Little miss goody two-shoes over here…”

“Is there something wrong with that?” Mary asked her suddenly, making Dakota flinch.

“Huh!?”

“I asked, is there something wrong with a person wanting to help you just because they’d like to be nice?” Mary questioned. “I don’t see why that could ever be a bad thing…”

Dakota ground her teeth together in frustration. “Of course YOU wouldn’t,” she muttered, shaking her head in disgust. “How could you even begin to understand?”

What the fuck? This was supposed to be HER confession, so why was Mary talking so much?!

“Could it be… the reason you’re so bothered is because you’re not used to people doing nice things for you just out of the goodness of your heart?” Mary asked hesitantly. “People other than Nick, I mean…”

She knew how much Nick meant to Dakota, and she understood why. But she also knew the risk that came with bringing him up in this context.

“So you think you’re Nick, huh?” Dakota growled at her. “Pretty presumptuous of you, wifey.”

“Of course I’m not Nick,” Mary replied obviously. “And I could never take his place in your heart, just like no one could ever take his place in mine.”

“Exactly! Thank you!” Dakota exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “That’s what I’m trying to say! Geez!”

“Oh? What do you mean by that?” Mary found that comment oddly placed. “What you’re trying to say…?”

“Shut up,” Dakota snapped at her. “Forget about it, it’s not important.”

The sudden coldness in the other woman’s voice clued Mary in that maybe she was onto something. She leaned forward intently and studied the covered screen, like she was trying to use x-ray vision and see Dakota’s face through it.

A futile gesture, of course.

“Dakota…”

“What!?” Mary could hear the frenzied hostility in Dakota’s voice, and knew that she was walking on eggshells here. But she braced herself for whatever was to come, and pressed on.

“Tell me about Sylvia.”

“What? Fucking why?” Dakota snapped. “This has nothing to do with her!”

That sensitive response was all the confirmation that Mary needed. Her suspicions were correct. “I think she does,” Mary replied, not backing down. “I think there are only two things I’ve ever seen you break down over. Nick… and Sylvia. And since you keep trying to focus the conversation on Nick, that tells me what you really want to talk about is Sylvia…”

Her voice trailed off as she felt the silence emanating from past the screen. It was like Dakota was trying to show her just how much she DIDN’T want to talk to Mary about Sylvia.

Well, too fucking bad.

“…You stupid girl,” Dakota hissed under her breath, making Mary flinch. “You think that little nothing matters to me?”

“Does she?” Mary asked, fully expecting Dakota to say no.

“NO!”

…Or scream it.

“I see. Well in that case, what would you like to talk about, then?” Mary gambled.

The silence from the other side of the booth was deafening.

“…What, so that’s it?” Mary could hear the sneer in Dakota’s voice. “And here I thought you had more of a spine…”

For the first time, Mary was glad about the screen. It kept Dakota from seeing the smile on her lips.

“Oh?”

“You think I’m an idiot?” Dakota snapped, the grinding of nails against wood filling the gaps in her words. “You think I can’t see what you’re doing here? Trying to get me to talk about Sylvia, then just dropping it? Like I’d actually buy that? You’re just trying to bait me into a conversation about that brat!”

“I’m trying to get to the root of why you’re here,” Mary said simply. “The reason one seeks absolution is because they have sins that they feel are weighing down their heart. But Dakota… you can’t hide everything behind a wall. Even the strongest person needs to let down their defenses at some point.”

More silence. It was a different kind of deafening. An overwhelming, oppressive silence that slowly filled the booth like smoke.

“…Absolution, huh?” Dakota finally said. She spoke the word like it had personally affronted her.

“That’s right,” Mary gently confirmed. “That’s what you’re after, isn’t it?”

She heard the sound of Dakota tapping her cane again.

“I told you,” the host said, in a quiet voice that sounded more **** than Mary was used to hearing, “I don’t… I don’t know what I’m after. I don’t even know why I’m here…”

For the first time, Dakota really sounded human to Mary. Like she was actually opening her heart to the possibilities that the two of them presented.

“Dakota…”

“Look, I get it, okay?” Dakota interrupted her, making Mary jump slightly. “Someone like me… you think I don’t understand? You think I don’t see what I’ve done? Really? Come on… you know better than that,” she grumbled, grinding her teeth together. She squeezed her cane tightly, and Mary winced at the pain in her voice.

“What have you done?” Mary wasn’t trying to interrogate or accuse her. She filled her voice with compassion, giving Dakota an excuse to open up her heart.

“I’ve hurt people,” Dakota muttered. “A lot of people. I’m the host. That’s my job, after all. That’s why I’m here.”

Mary nodded. “That is why you were resurrected by that producer,” she quietly conceded. “How does that make you feel? Thinking about the people whose lives you… affected?”

She was going to say “ruined” but she was worried that might make Dakota get defensive.

Dakota began grinding her teeth again. “How should it make me feel? That was my job. If I didn’t do my job, then the producers would have gotten rid of me! Simple as that! Why should I feel bad, huh? I did what I needed to do to survive!”

Her voice cracked slightly, and she leaned on her anger to overcome that.

Mary chewed thoughtfully on her lip, knowing it wasn’t that simple. “Is that really how you feel, Dakota?” She asked neutrally. “Transforming those people was just a job to you? If it was something you had to do to survive, why do you feel guilty about it?”

In a way, Mary was telling a lie of her own. She didn’t really believe what she was insinuating, that Dakota had no reason to feel bad for doing something because she felt like she had to. Rather, it was a method of coaxing an honest response out of the other woman.

“…I liked it. Is that what you want me to say?” Dakota muttered. “Fine! I fucking loved it! The rush, the thrill of punishing all those fucking people… getting to live their happy lives, getting to enjoy their love… and me… I’m STUCK here! STUCK! I could never… I couldn’t ever… …I hurt them, I ruined and twisted their perfect little lives, and I felt fucking amazing when I did it!”

She stopped to catch her breath. Once the emotions came pouring out, they just didn’t stop!

Mary listened with patient understanding. “…And how do you feel now?” She asked gently.

“…Huh?” It took Dakota a second to process.

“How do you feel now? About them?” Mary asked. “You were hurt, and so you took the pain you were feeling and you lashed out at people who couldn’t defend themselves so you could feel better. You understand what that makes you, right, Dakota? A bully.”

Dakota’s eye twitched. “So fucking what?” She spat. “They had it coming.”

“Why? Because they were happy?”

“YES!”

“And you, you couldn’t be happy yourself?”

“That- it doesn’t fucking matter-”

“I think it does,” Mary cut her off. “What about right now? What about Nick? He’s happy, isn’t he? Why aren’t you doing to him, what you did to all those other masters? Why aren’t you twisting us, the people he loves, into caricatures and shadows of ourselves, out of spite?”

Dakota started grinding her teeth again. She clutched her cane tightly and snarled a warning at the woman behind the screen, who was getting just a little too big for her britches. “You watch yourself… know your place, you little brat.”

“Or what, you’ll do something to me, like you did to them?” Mary wasn’t afraid of Dakota. Not in that way, anyhow. “I’m not worried. You wouldn’t. Because you know how that would hurt Nick. All those other people, they didn’t matter to you, but Nick, he does, right?”

Dakota’s sulky silence was enough of an answer for Mary.

“…But now you’re feeling bad about it,” Mary continued. “What you did. To innocent people. People whose only crime was being in love.”

“Like hell I do!” Dakota snapped. “Says who!?”

“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” Mary pointed out.

Dakota didn’t have a rebuttal to that.

“Listen here, you little-”

“If you didn’t feel bad about what you’d done, then you wouldn’t be here,” Mary cut her off. “You know what I think, Dakota? I think this stems back to that transformation you got, right after the very first challenge. Back when you were still just a contestant. That transformation changed you. It gave you a whole new life. A whole new past. Before that happened, you were just a miserable ghost, haunting the person you loved but never able to be with him, right?”

Mary didn’t wait for an answer. She knew nothing Dakota said right now would be the truth. Just another defensive outburst at best, if not outright rage and scorn. So she kept going.

“It was easy to be a monster when that was all you had,” she said, trying to show as much empathy and understanding for the other woman as she could. “But then… you got a new life. Not just literally, you had your whole life rewritten. New memories. Friends. Do you remember? Dakota? When we were all in school together? When we were friends?”

“…I remember you fucking abandoning him,” Dakota growled. “I remember you betraying Nick’s feelings because of the lies of some stupid little brat who didn’t even know what she wanted herself.”

Mary winced. Her heart ached at the truthful, undeniable accusation.

“…You’re not wrong,” she admitted, shaking her head. She looked down at the floor of the confession booth. “I hurt Nick, by not trusting him back then. And I ended my friendship with him, and with you. And that was wrong of me.”

She raised her head, not letting her feelings of past guilt overwhelm her.

“But… that was in the past,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not that person anymore, Dakota. I’ve atoned for what I’ve done. I’ve tried to move past it, and keep living my life. And… you need to do the same.”

She received nothing but silence.

“…How can I do that?” Dakota finally muttered out. “I’m stuck here. Forever. When this is done, you’ll all move on, and me… I’ll still be here. Forever. Trapped on this island. My prison.”

Mary smiled in spite of the pain in her breast. For the first time since they’d started, Dakota was being honest with her. Intentionally honest, anyway.

“Like I said… that’s the root of it, isn’t it?” She gently, carefully coaxed the other woman. “You were able to do those bad things back then, because you were hurt. Because all you had was misery and pain. But now, thanks to that transformation, you’re so much more than that, Dakota. You’re someone who can care for other people. Who understands what it’s like to be human. You’re not that scared little girl who died without getting a chance to live. You were given a new chance, and now-”

“And now I’m stuck here!” Dakota roared. “Nick will leave, and I’ll… I’ll be stuck here.”

She wouldn’t shed tears over her fate. Mary didn’t deserve to see her cry.

Mary nodded solemnly. “You were alone before,” she said quietly. “That’s why you created Sylvia, isn’t that right?”

“No,” Dakota snapped a little too quickly. “I created Sylvia because I needed a pawn to fulfill her role. I needed someone who I could pass on the title of host to, in order to become a contestant again. That’s all. That’s why I did it.”

“I think that’s part of why you did it,” Mary agreed. “But I don’t think that’s the only reason. Do you want to know why?”

She didn’t wait for Dakota to tell her where to shove it. She wasn’t letting her back out of this.

“You could create another Sylvia right now,” Mary pointed out. “You could pass on your position as the host to her again, couldn’t you? And then you’d be free. So why haven’t you done that? If Sylvia was just a pawn you created, certainly you could make another, right? So why don’t you?”

Dakota opened her mouth to respond, to tell Mary she was crazy, that she was stupid, that she deserved to be torn apart by wild boars.

But nothing passed her lips as she struggled to process the question that should have been so obvious, and yet had never been raised until now.