This is an older, frozen story of mine. It goes for quite a few chapters, but I ended up slowing down and stopping in the end. Hopefully by posting it here, I can reawaken the muse. All reviews welcome!

CHAPTER 1: REQUIEM FOR RUTHVEN

I was hungry again. The others were stronger, faster, and master had not fed them in a long time. The last time, I'd been pushed, bitten, and held down while the others feasted… Pet had gotten the biggest share, and Darling and Dearest had licked up the rest. It hadn't lasted long, and there was nothing left for me.

It was hard to think when I was hungry. Easier just to feel. Easier to be nothing but empty belly and WANT.

But a part of me wanted to keep thinking. Even after all this time, it wouldn't let me fall. Even after all that had happened to me, I couldn't just let it go into madness. There were days I hated myself for that. Madness would have been easy.

And so I sat, chained to Master's throne, filthy and naked, hunched over and waiting.

Master's throne was made of metal, old steel and junk welded together. There were large chains that lead off of it, four of them, ending in collars that were welded around our necks. The collars were strong metal, even stronger than Pet. She'd tried the hardest to get free, early on. She'd almost broken it, but Master had caught her, and almost broken HER. Now whenever she caught one of us trying it, she'd break our fingers. Then she'd wait a minute for them to heal and break them again. I got the message the first time, but she didn't stop. She didn't care, she just liked hurting me.

There were four of us. Pet, Darling, Dearest, and Me. He called me Honey. It wasn't my name. My name was Julia. Julie.

I didn't say that, though. I just thought it. He used to hurt me when I said my real name. Now I don't, and he finds fewer reasons to hurt me. I just shut up and keep quiet and let him do what he wants.

The other three were in the same state I was, only they'd stopped trying to stay sane long ago. They were like animals, long-toothed, red-eyed, and hungry. If I got too close they'd bite, and bites take forever to heal. And the other three were older and bigger than I was.

I didn't like to think that I probably looked a lot like them. I was different.

Wasn't I?

The room never changed. It had concrete walls, a low wooden ceiling, and three doors. It was big, and there were crates piled around it. Occasionally one of Master's pet gangers would come in through the first door, and clean it a little. They'd bring in a hose and spray us, wetting the floor under us, and cleaning it of the crust and filth that accumulated. Our bowels had stopped working years ago, but we were messy eaters, and the remains of past meals built up. Grates in the floors took care of the outflow, burbling and gulping with their own hunger.

The second door was bolted shut. Occasionally Master would walk through it… He did this thing where he stood still and his body melted into fog, and he'd drift through cracks in the bolted door. No one else ever went back there. No one could, really.

Visitors usually came in through the third door. Not many of them… I had no idea how long I had been down here, but it seemed like there were long stretches between visitors. A very few of them were like Master. Most were just regular people, and some of those he let us eat. Some were suits, all cold and all business, and those he fawned over. They would look at us and their lips would twist, but they wouldn't do anything. We were disgusting to them, and I hated them for that.

My ears were very sharp. I could usually hear people coming before the third door. This time was no exception. Master was walking with them, and talking. I moved slightly, to get a better angle, and ignored the feral stares of Pet and her sisters. I could almost make out the words…

"…Is a factor, you understand. If the shipment's not received by Thursday, then we're going to have to assume that you've broken faith." It was a male voice, hoarse from some kind of damage. Overuse, or maybe smoking?

"Of course, gentlemen. And lady. But the fact remains your concerns are irrelevant. It will arrive long before Thursday. Black Tom listens very carefully to me, and I shall assure him of your need. You've made the best choice possible, by coming to me. Lord Ruthven delivers. EVERYONE who's ANYONE knows that Lord Ruthven delivers." That was Master. His voice was high, a little too high for his overly fleshed body. But no one ever laughed at his voice, or his top hat, or his ridiculous cane. The ones that did, ended up as our food.

Pet shifted, glanced back at me. I nodded, and her teeth stretched into a clotted brown-and-red grin. She could tell that I had heard something, and I'd just confirmed it. Master was coming. Maybe with food. The hunger rumbled in me at the thought, shaking my bones and making my teeth grow. Please let the other voice be food…

I shook it off and concentrated again. I'd missed a bit of the conversation.

"…esting name, Lord Ruthven. Where did you take it from?" This was a different voice. Female, older than me. Than I was, anyway.

"Ah, well, it's actually from an old story. A British Gothic, actually, but I'd be surprised if you understood the reference."

"One a' da old tragedies, ya? Were ever'one an' their muther ends up dyin'?" Strange accent. Couldn't place it. Male, younger than the first one, the hoarse one.

"Yes, you're not far off, really. Quite gloomy, much like my place of business, I'm afraid."

"I've seen worse." The hoarse man again.

"Perhaps. But as we are just entering this business relationship, I feel compelled to impress upon you the severity of upholding your end of things."

The third door opened with a CLUNK, and Darling and Dearest snapped their heads up. There was Master, in his suited glory. A wide, short man wearing old-fashioned clothes, with spotless white gloves on his pudgy hands. Ridiculous, when you saw him. But once you looked in those red, red eyes you could see the dark thing that writhed inside of him. It was the same thing that moved inside of me, Pet, and the others, too. He'd given us his gift, and never again would anything ever be the same…

We all pulled back in a jingling of chains, as he leveled his cane at us. "That, my new colleagues, is the price of betrayal. I'm not adverse to adding a few more to my favorite chair. Just something to keep in mind."

The three people behind him spread out, and I had faces to put to voices. The woman was short, squat but pretty. I knew she was a dwarf… My mind was too muddled to put a meaning to that, but I knew she wasn't human. She wore casual clothes, and had something like a crystal visor over her eyes.

The one with the accent was green, and had two long teeth poking out from his lower jaw, grazing against his upper lip. Big man, hard to tell how old he was. He wore a leather jacket that I could possibly use as a tent. There was a bandanna on his bald head, and he looked a little like one of Master's gangers. There were bulges under that jacket, and I wasn't surprised. Like the short woman, I knew he wasn't human, but an ork. Whatever that was.

The hoarse one had close-cropped graying hair. He was tall too, but a head shorter than his green friend. He was wearing a suit, and had a burn scar on his right cheek. HE was human, at least. He moved funny, just a bit too quick.

But then I lost my chance to reflect… When Master waved his cane, Pet, Dearest, and Darling backed up, hissing and I had to back up before they trampled me. Many times he'd beaten us with that cane, and it left bruises that smoked and bubbled. They feared the cane. I feared it too.

When I got clear of the other three, I got a clearer look at the visitors. The big green one looked angry. The other two… They just watched us with empty eyes. And the scarred human was nodding, like we had been expected. Something wasn't right.

Master was turning, smiling, to get a look at their reactions, and their empty faces brought him up cold. "Do… You like my brides, perhaps?"

The short woman smiled. There was no warmth in it. "Thanks for the confirmation. Oh, and here's the advance fee." She held up a short black cylinder.

I couldn't see his face, but I could tell by his body language, Master was confused. Still, he stretched out a hand to accept it. "We didn't negotiate an advance fee, but if you-"

The woman flicked her wrist, and the cylinder came apart. Almost faster than I could see, a tiny cord flicked out of it, toward Master. THROUGH Master!

"Gh…" He said, and his head slid into two pieces, as he fell to the floor. The scent of old blood hit the air, and I tensed. The hunger pushed at me, but I pushed it back. What was going on here?

The woman talked into the air. "Confirmed, five cadavers. Dropped one, initiating-"

"MYRA!" The scarred man yelled, as he whipped his suit coat open and pulled out a thin blade, but it was too late. Master had sat up from the floor, half his head still off, and plunged his cane through her belly. She shrieked and fell over, and Master blurred into afterimages… But so did the older man. The green-skinned man cursed and fell back as Master's fists struck him, but he rolled with it, bounced off the wall, and came up with two big looking guns in his hands. He tracked and fired BAMBAMBAM, and I ducked. A round hit Pet, and she fell shrieking.

Then I blinked, and the scarred man had Master by the throat, ignoring the hands tearing at his suit, the stranger shoved his thin-bladed knife between Master's ribs, again and again, moving almost as fast as his victim. With a grunt, Master slumped. I could smell his wounds smoking from here… What was that knife?

Then another small noise registered on my ears, a gentle clicking. And I looked over to see the small cylinder, whole once again, rolling toward me. I glanced over to look at the fallen dwarf woman, but she was out of it, clutching at the cane sticking out of her guts. I glanced back at Master. The two men had him on the floor now, clutching his face as they beat him, then the smell of blood hit my nose. The woman's blood… Everything started fading to red, and with the last bit of my will I scooped up the cylinder, and put it behind the throne.

And then there was no room in me for anything but hunger…

I don't know how long it was, before I came back to myself. I was tumbling, knocked sprawling and brought up short, the collar snapping against my neck painfully as I blinked and curled into a ball. I blinked and looked up, and saw Pet, hissing, as she held the limp form of one of Master's ganger servants up to her mouth, and tore at his neck, worrying it, gorging on the sweet blood. Behind her, Darling and Dearest were ripping another to shreds.

I mopped my own face, and my hand came away bloody. I licked it clean as I considered… Yep, there were several bites on the one Pet was worrying. Of course she'd pushed me off, I was the runt. Wait. What were Master's servants doing here?

I turned my head, and saw four more sprawled over the room, bleeding into the grates. Some of the crates were broken and shattered, and the smell of gunpowder was in the air. The big green man… No, he was an ork. Now that I'd fed, I could think clearer. I remembered the word, he was an ork. The ork was leaning against the wall, bleeding, and holstering his guns.

"Arch! Throw in another one!" I turned, and saw the scarred man staring directly at me. I flinched back. He was digging Master's cane into Master's body, working it into his chest. Smoke was rising from Master's form. Then the ork limped over, picked up another ganger body, and threw it at my feet. I ignored it and stared at him.

"Who are you?" My voice cracked, it had been so long since I used it. He looked surprised, and half-opened his mouth. Then a noise to my right drew my attention, and I turned just in time to see the other man finish fixing something to the throne. It looked like a thermos with wires… He'd moved across the room faster than I could track, and planted that thing in the span of about three seconds. He glared at me, through sunglasses, and pulled out that thin knife again. I moved back to the end of the chain.

The knife was wood, I noticed. Just bloody, splintered wood. Then Darling hissed, and the man blurred, easily moving back to his former position as she lunged at him.

For a while, I stared at them. The three others went back to lapping at the ganger corpses, and Pet dragged the fresh body over, sitting on it while she drained it.

The two men stared back. I crossed my arms over my nakedness, and hunched down. "What are you doing?" I whispered. My eyes flicked around the chamber, and I saw the small woman, lying still by the third door. The first door had holes in it, bullet holes I knew. The gangers must've attacked from there…

"Payin' the rent, kid. Dat's all. Sorry 'bout dis…" The human whipped up a hand, stopping the ork mid-rumble. "No. Don't speak to it. Just makes it harder in the end."

The ork shook his head. "Drek, Miles, she's just a kid. Look at'er! That Ruthven frakker-"

"NO!" Miles shouted, and SHOVED him. Even though the ork had at least a hundred pounds on him, he went backward a good five feet, falling into some broken crates. "The smart ones are DANGEROUS, and don't forget that. And now this one knows my name. There's nothing we can do for her, except finish the job."

He looked at me, and clenched his hand. I saw my reflection in his sunglasses… A filthy, scared teen with short frizzy black hair and a frame thinned by bulimia. And I saw no hope in his stare, no mercy in his face. "It's a husk, that's all. The real part of it died when she did."

The ork sighed. "Gothic tragedy, yep. Ever'one an' dere mudder dies. I'll get Myra. Got da charge set?"

Charge? What was- Memory intervened, blood charging up a starved brain, and I got it. Oh DREK.

"Please!" My voice was thin, scratchy. "Please, don't do this. My name is Julie! I didn't do anything, he just took me! I've been here I don't know how long-"

The ork just turned and left, scooping up the dwarf with gentle arms. He cast one last glance over at me, shaking his head as he went out the way he'd come.

I stared at the scarred man, as he pulled a spray-can from his coat, and started covering the floor in some lines of foam, looping it over crates, up on the ceiling. It smelled horrible, like chemicals and dung. He paid no attention to anything that I said to him, and when he was done he left, following his friend.

A charge meant a bomb. Frak! In a few minutes or less, that thermos thing would go off. That foam probably wasn't good, either. I didn't know if I could heal from being blown up.

I looked at Pet and her two sisters. They were gorged, still slurping at the corpses. They had to be full by now, but they licked on. They'd be no help.

And I looked at the cylinder, back behind the throne. Hmm… Moving fast, I picked it up and examined it. There was a tiny button on the bottom, and I pushed it. With a small "snk" noise, the end fell off, pulling that tiny cord with it. I gasped as the cord twisted, and brushed against my finger, and I watched my fingertip fall to the floor. Pain flared and I dropped the cylinder… As soon as I let go of the button the cord retracted, pulling the end of it closed again.

Sucking at the slightly bleeding stump of my finger, I felt it regrowing, bone and all, as I considered the cylinder. Sharp enough for bone. Sharp enough for chains?

As it turns out the cord was sharp enough to handle chains, and with a little quickly-healed slices on the side of my neck, it took care of the collar as well. I ran, stumbling out into the room, and sobbed in relief. Finally, FINALLY, I could get free… No, wait.

I looked at the first door. No clue where that went. Could be more gangers, and I doubted they would be happy to see me. I looked at the third door… No. Master's killers had left that way. They knew how to kill him, they'd know how to kill me. If I ran into them I was dead.

The thought turned in my head, and I glared over at Master's body. It was still lying there, but had stopped smoking some time ago. His own cane was speared through his chest like some grotesque flag, An evil little cane, for an evil little bastard. I nudged him with my foot and he didn't move, so I spat on his face. "Goodbye, 'Master.' Rot in hell, you twisted frakker."

Then the thermos started beeping. Not good!

Okay. Doors one and three were out. Door two? Looking better. I jogged over to it, and stared at it… Metal, rusty, bolted shut… I tried the bolts and they didn't budge. I couldn't tell, but they seemed welded. Not good, not good…

Maybe… I closed my eyes, and thought of fog. Mist. Thought of dispersing my body, thought of floating away, becoming like air…

…And opened my eyes. Still nothing. Still the same door, and I hadn't moved.

The beeping got louder. I gingerly took the end of the cylinder between two fingers of my left hand, and hit the button with my newly-regrown right index finger. The cord spooled out, and with gentle, easy motions I tried to use it to trim through the bolts. It took the longest ten seconds of my life, but finally with the last bolt gone I could force the door open. There was a short corridor beyond, and a hole in the floor that disappeared into darkness.

As I started down, I heard a low growl, and I looked back to see Pet at the end of her chain, pawing at me. Darling and Dearest were just behind her, glaring like angry cats. I looked in Pet's eyes and I saw rage that she was bound and I was not, and I knew that even if I were inclined to cut her loose, she'd hurt me for doing what she couldn't.

I shook my head. "No. No one gets to hurt me, not anymore."

The beeping stopped. I screamed, and ran.

I barely got through the hole as a fiery wave rushed over me, and I fell, burning and shrieking into the darkness…