From: bradkwillis@aol.com (BKWillis) Date: 29 Nov 2001 04:43:30 GMT Subject: Re: A story we can all create.. "Wake up, Jo. Come on, there's a good girl..." Jo cracked open her eyes, groaned once at the blur above her, then closed them again, unwilling to be pulled into wakefulness just yet. "Come on, Jo..." The insistent voice was joined by an insistent tug at her shoulder. Oh, if only they'd just go away and let her sleep, then she'd... Sleep? When had she gone to sleep? The sudden nagging thought, the subtle misgivings aroused by her momentary lapse of half-awake memory managed to finish what the voice and tugging had started. With a sudden tension, Jo's eyes snapped open and she sat up, staring around her. She was lying on a small couch in what looked to be a small, modestly appointed room, the sparse furnishings somehow conveying the impression 'tidy bachelor apartment'. She felt a hand rest on her shoulder and whirled about to see... "Mike! What are you doing here? What am I doing here? How did I... you... What's going on?" Jo's words tumbled out over themselves, panic and confusion edging her tones. "There, there," Yates soothed, patting her reassuringly. "You just had a nasty turn, was all. You were just telling me how the Doctor was going to take you to the beach, then you muttered something about 'Fort Zinderneuf' and fainted dead away! I brought you in here and was just about to phone for an ambulance when you finally started coming to." He grinned at her in apparent relief, his hand trailing across her neck. Jo started to speak, stopped, shook her head once, then stared blankly at the wall, trying to focus on something. "But," she said at last, "I don't remember... Or rather, I do. We went. We did go... somewhere... Didn't we?" "There, there Jo. Don't worry yourself about it. Just relax." Mike's fingers brushed her cheek and she shied back reflexively. Out of the corner of her eye, Jo noted the slight darkening of the captain's expression, but was too wrapped-up in her thoughts to pay any heed. "We did go," Jo said with a bit more conviction, still focussed inward. "There was sand... And it wasn't Miami. And birds..." "I know what'll get you back in order," Mike said in a chipper, upbeat tone that his eyes somehow did not mirror. "Let's get you cleaned up a bit. A wet towel and a bit of cold water will get you fixed right up." He slipped an arm around her and helped her to her feet. "Do you think you can walk?" he asked solicitously. "The lavvy's just right through there... Here, lean on me." Jo did so, allowing herself to be led, still lost in her thoughts. In the bathroom, Jo leaned against the counter as Mike tossed a towel in the sink and wet it down. "Yes," she muttered, "we did go somewhere. I remember the sand... I think." Mike handed her the wet towel and she mechanically rubbed at her face with it, the coolness clearing her mind a little and helping her focus on the _now_. "I remember going, and I remember telling you about it, but I talked to you yesterday, not today," she said. "I think that's it. Yes. I remember meeting you in the carpark and telling you I was going to the beach. Yesterday." "Your time-sense is a bit mixed-up, Jo," Yates replied gently. "That was what you were telling me just a little while ago, before you fainted." "But it--" "Oops," he interrupted, pointing at her eyes, "you've still got a bit of something in your eyes." Jo raised the towel and wiped at her eyes, still insisting that she'd seen him yesterday. As she was doing so, she suddenly felt some- thing clamp down on her wrist, biting into the skin. "Ow! What are you--!?" Mike had snapped one ring of a handcuff on her, the steel ratcheting down cruelly into her flesh. With a snarling expression that she'd never seen on him before -- never seen on _anyone_ before -- he grabbed her by the other arm and dragged her to the shower stall. "Mike! What the Hell are you doing?!" She struggled against his grip, but the UNIT captain was too strong. Relentlessly and without a word, he dragged her to the shower and looped the cuffs' chain across the door-track, then clamped the other cuff on her, leaving her standing there on tip-toe, helpless. "Mike! For God's sake, Mike, what do you--?!" "Shut up, Jo," he hissed at her and she recoiled from the expression of utter loathing on his face. "Just shut up. This is my time, Jo, not yours." "What? What are you talking about?" "Shut up!" He sighed once, then shook his head in mock-sadness. "Jo Jo Jo Jo," he said. "You've been a bad girl, you have. A bad, bad girl. You tease me, Jo. Teasing isn't nice at all. Mama said." He giggled, a mad, hackle-raising sound that had nothing of the Mike Yates she thought she knew in it. "You tease and tease. You get me bothered, Jo. Do you know what that does to a man? Of course you do. And you like it, don't you? You like being a little tease." "Mike," she said desperately. "Listen Mike, I don't know what--" "Shut up!" he roared. "I said for you to shut up! This is _my_ time! Mike's time! Jo's time is over!" He glared at her, then wiped a bit of spit from his lips and went on in the same placid tone he'd been using before, a tone that somehow disturbed Jo more than any mere shouting could. "You see, Jo, you've been mean to Mike, and that isn't very nice. Mama said that little girls who aren't nice have to be punished. You can see the sense in that, I'm sure." He paused a moment, as though waiting for her to agree. When she didn't, he just sighed and shook his head again. "Jo," he said in a chiding tone, "I think you'd best agree with me, because if you don't, I'm going to have to break your pretty nose. Now, you can see the sense in having to punish bad little girls, can't you?" "Yes, Mike," she agreed hastily, shocked. "Whatever you say." "Excellent! Absolutely excellent!" He clapped his hands gleefully and then leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead as one might do an obedient child. "I'm glad you can see the necessity for this, then. We'll make a good girl out of you soon enough. You just wait here." He turned and walked out of the bathroom, then ducked his head back in, his eyes madly alight. "Now don't go anywhere, okay?" he giggled, then ducked back out. As soon as he was gone, Jo began tugging furiously at the hand- cuffs, trying to pull the metal shower-door track loose. A couple of hard pulls had the plaster wall cracking slightly where the track was fastened and she began to frantically redouble her efforts. "Jo Jo Jo Jo Jo _Jo_. How you disappoint me. You're still quite naughty after all." She looked over to see Yates back in the doorway, his hands hidden behind his back. "But that's no more than I should expect," he continued. "Once a bad girl, always a bad girl. That's why Mike and Mama have a cure for bad girls. Care to guess which hand it's in? Is it the left?" He held out his empty left hand as he walked over to her, then stroked her cheek with it. "No, it isn't the left hand. Maybe it's the right hand? Ah, there it is!" He held up a curved, thin-bladed knife, one of the sort hunters used for skinning game. "Mike, please!" she begged, sobbing. "Please don't do this! Please!" "Hush, sweet Charlotte," he replied, his finger on her lips. "Jo's time is over. It's Mike's time now. So be quiet. Mike's time..." He twined his left hand in her hair and pulled her face to him, a contented smile on his face as he raised the knife and placed its point a hairsbreadth from her left eye. "I can make the fear stop, Josephine Grant," a voice without sound seemed to hiss in her ears. "All you need do is ask it of me, and it will all stop..." "No," Jo moaned through her tears. "This isn't happening. This can't be happening. This isn't Mike. It's just a nightmare. It has to be!" "Nightmare?" Mike chuckled softly. "More like a dream come true, if you ask me." He shifted the knife a bit, as though trying to decide which of her eyes suited him most. "Ask it of me, Josephine Grant..." "No!" Jo spat through clenched teeth. "Uh-uh," Mike said, not ungently. "The correct answer is, 'Yes Mr. Yates, sir.'" He giggled for a moment, then rammed the blade forward into Jo's right eye. Jo screamed as she felt the blade bite home, her eyeball parting before the cold edge and then-- Flash to whiteness. ---- It appeared that her mind was stronger than he'd anticipated. He had been certain that the fear would have brought her to him by now, but she still resisted. It began to look as though there might be an element of challenge in this Josephine Grant's conversion. Not that the outcome would be in doubt, for the Lord of the Vale had time everlasting to work in, and nightmare without end for his weapon. ---- The monofilament rope jumped and swayed as the Servii some- where far above Babydoll's head tried to work their weapons free to fire back at the Skyborn guards. The snap-roar of a percussion pistol sounded somewhere from above, followed by a blast of blue energy bolts from the other side. Babydoll tried to spot the source of the bolts by watching the gunflashes, but they were too far above her and her grip too precarious for her to be able to return their fire. High overhead, she heard Rahaaz's voice driving his warriors on like a whiplash. "Climb! Waste not your shots in darkness! Climb for your lives! 'Tis useless to fight here!" Another blast of energy bolts slashed the darkness as the Skyborn guards tried to track the dangling Servii by sound. Gritting her teeth, Babydoll reholstered her machine pistol and resumed the laborious hand-over-hand ascent, her protesting muscles aching and knuckles dead-white from the strain. Again the energy bolts lit the night and in their glow Babydoll could just make out the shapes of the gunners on a watch platform far above. There was a loud grunt of pain somewhere overhead and another seared body plummetted past her and into the nighted abyss below. "I'm not gonna die here," Babydoll thought as she continued to pull herself up. "Not like this. Gonna die rich and famous and in bed with somebody cute. That's the way for a girl to go, not shot down by some fleabag sky-rats at the ass-end of nowhere. And I can't get killed before I get even, anyway. I got too much stuff to get payback for to snuff it just yet." There came another volley of energy bolts, some coming closer to her now as the guards began to shift their aim. Still, she hadn't heard any more Servii getting hit yet, so maybe there was still some hope. She glared up at the shadowy Skyborn sentries, mentally taunting them with words that she couldn't spare the breath to say aloud. As she watched, a lithe white shape, ghostlike in the glare of the energy guns, dropped in behind the two figures. A faint cry of alarm carried down to her as the firing abruptly stopped. "Climb!" shouted Rahaaz. "Climb for your lives! Victory is at hand!" After a few more moments of climbing, Babydoll felt herself begin to rise as the rope was pulled up, slowly at first, then with increasing speed and surety. In her mind's eye, she could picture the Servii swarming up the cable to the platform and then turning to pull their fellows up. At long last, the platform swam into her half-exhausted view, the shadowy bulk of Rahaaz's standard-bearer Daraaga looming over her as he hauled her up like a landed fish and deposited her on shaking legs. She sagged gratefully to the floor, letting her sore arms hang limply at her sides. Even the Servii seemed winded by the climb, so she didn't feel _too_ bad about herself. She took a moment to look around, taking in her dim surroundings in a few calculating glances. They were on what must be a sentry- post, a balconylike affair low along the city's edge, a shattered searchlight swivel-mounted midways of its railing. A metal staircase led up into the city proper at one end, while a speaker- grille was set into the wall at the other. A Skyborn guard lay asprawl in a pool of blood at the foot of the stairs, his throat torn out, while a second guard, a young woman, stood rock-still and staring nearby, her expression vacant. Beside her was the slim white form of Bella, naked save for the fall of her curly tresses, wiping her hands on a piece of cloth. The Servii milled all around them, unslinging muskets and loosening their scabbarded weapons, paying no heed to the females as they set about their business. With a grunt of mild self-protest, Babydoll got up and walked over to Bella, a congratulatory smile on her face. "You did it, Fangs!" she said. Bella looked up at her, eyes luminous and sad in the starlight. "Yes," the vampire replied. "I did it." She went back to wiping at her right hand, which was coated in blood. Babydoll shuddered despite herself, glancing at the torn corpse. She jerked her head at the seemingly entranced female guard. "What about her?" she asked. "She is, as the old movies put it, 'in my power'," Bella replied. "Her mind has been... sent away for now. Until the sun rises, she has no will of her own." "Overworld sorcery," breathed Rahaaz as he strode over to the two. The War Captain looked at Bella and indicated the prisoner. "Thou shouldst cut her throat and be rid of her." Bella's curls fluttered as she shook her head. "There's no need. She's under my control and can't harm us." "This be not a slave-taking," Rahaaz countered. "We have not effort to spare for captives. Kill her." Bella slid between the Servii and the Skyborn, eyes flashing. "I'll not do so, War Captain Rahaaz." For her own part, Babydoll was inclined to agree with the War Captain. All her training, all her indoctrination, all those years of bloody experience told her that prisoners were liabilities in this situation. But on the other hand, it couldn't be denied that Bella's protective attitude toward the helpless woman moved her in some way. "Shouldn't let a bloodsucker be more human than _me_, should I?" she asked herself. Before she could say anything one way or the other, the night was split by a sudden squawking voice. "Guard Post Five, report in. Guard Post Five, report in." The Servii all dropped into firing crouches and stared around for the source of the voice, which was merely the speaker-grille at the end of the platform. "Guard Post Five, report in. Nahlia, Jorsam, are you there? Report in." As the voice became more insistent, Bella leaned over to her Skyborn prisoner and began whispering in her ear. The woman turned and strode over to the speaker, Bella still whispering to her, and touched a button beside the grille. In a perfectly normal and alert voice, she said, "Guard Post Five reporting, Nahlia here." "Nahlia, we heard shooting from your area," the voice replied, sounding less anxious. "What's the status in your sector? Is there a problem?" "Negative," Nahlia replied briskly. "Jorsam and I spotted some North Rim renegades flying past and thought we'd best warn them off before they could rustle any mounts from our flocks." "Very good, Guard Post Five. We were afraid it might have had some connection with those Servii raiders we engaged earlier." The woman named Nahlia laughed, her expression still as blank as stone. "Really, now, Siharal, how do you think the Servii could get up here? Grow wings and fly?" "Don't be impertinent, Nahlia," the voice snapped. "Headquarters out." As the captive Skyborn settled back into passive immobility, Bella turned and fixed Rahaaz with an arch look, to which the War Captain replied with a nod. "It shall be as thou sayest, Over- worlder," he intoned, then turned to get his raiders organized to move out. They set off a moment later, the Servii filing silently up the stairs first, in case of ambush, with Rahaaz in the middle and the two women in the rear. Babydoll checked her machine pistol again, as was her habit, before starting up the steps, then turned to watch Bella follow. The vampire had sent Nahlia to sleep with a word and then stopped to look down at the man she'd killed earlier and the huge, cooling pool of blood around him. As the blonde watched, Bella knelt down next to the corpse, her expression unreadable. "Oh smeg, she's gonna feed," Babydoll thought, her stomach turning in revulsion. In spite of her newfound respect for the girl, the vampire's habits still sickened her to the core. But the pale girl made no move to taste the dead man's blood. Instead, she merely brushed a hand across his face, closing his sightless eyes and shaking her head. "Hey!" Babydoll called to her. "You coming along or not... Fangs?" Bella blinked something out of her eyes and leapt nimbly up behind her, smiling slightly. "I'm right behind you... Pigtails!"