A/N: Dear potential reader:
Please understand that none of the characters appearing in this tale are mine; they belong to Disney. This tale is not meant to generate profit, it was written for simple entertainment. This is also my entry to Stormchaser90's 2nd Annual Heebie Jeebie Hullabaloo Halloween Story Contest.
Please enjoy:
The suite was secure and difficult to get into...if vertical surfaces bothered you. Shego had never had a problem with heights and something about being a dozen stories up seemed to make people feel secure enough to leave their windows open. The green-hued mercenary didn't care, she got paid the same whether the job was easy or hard. Slipping in through the window, she went to the front door and looked through the peephole, making sure the coast was clear. She opened the door for a look up and down the hall.
She started for a moment, swearing she heard footsteps. Then, she swore she heard a breathing sound, like something in front of her was sniffing at her. A moment later, the breathing went silent and she thought she heard footsteps wandering down the hall. Unfortunately, the tile floor didn't provide any footprints to watch...even if she heard what she thought she did. Shrugging her shoulders, she went back into the suite and took a seat on the couch, waiting for her mark to show up. She didn't have long to wait.
It was perhaps a half hour later that the door unlocked and opened, allowing Monkeyfist to enter the suite. He was somewhat disguised, wearing a hat and a high collar but Shego was looking specifically for him, and easily recognized him.
"Well, if it isn't the monkey himself," she said, rising from the couch.
"Shego!" He gasped. "What do you want?"
"Well, Dr. D noted that you've been moving around an awful lot," she told him. "He seems to think that means you'll be available for work at bargain basement prices. Seeing your accommodations, I don't think you're hurting for money. Still, he sent me to make the offer."
"It would be a very poor choice to bring me to one of his lairs," Monty told her, closing the door behind him. "I'm being pursued by a slow but very determined hunter."
"He must be dangerous to chase you out of your castle," Shego observed. "Who is it?"
"The correct question is what is it," Monty told her. "And that's a long story."
"This is a comfortable room," Shego countered. "I could stand to hear a good yarn."
"Why not?" He agreed, hanging up his coat and hat and finding a comfortable chair. She noted that he looked somewhat ragged, as if he hadn't been sleeping very well.
"It all started about two years ago," he told her. "The cheerleader and her sidekick had thwarted me again, so I decided it was time to do something about them. I had heard of certain supernatural entities that a forgotten religion in Burma had once used, so I obtained certain artifacts from a Burmese museum to aid me in my endeavors..."
"So just what are we here to do again?" Ron asked, as the two teens scrambled through a window in Fiske's castle.
"Security cameras caught Monkeyfist stealing bronze tablets and some ancient scrolls from a museum in Burma," Kim reminded him, looking around the room they found themselves in. "We're here to retrieve the tablets and the scrolls, if we can." She busied herself looking over the many tables full of artifacts and art in the room, comparing what was present to the images on her Kimmunicator.
"I hate this place," Ron grumbled as he helped. "Full of monkey pictures, monkey statues...monkeys! Five hundred miles of bad road."
"It's not that bad," Kim chided him, continuing the search.
"Not bad?" Ron demanded. "I mean, look at those statues and the portrait...Monkeyfist!"
"Keep it down Ron," Kim hissed. "I know that he has pictures and statues of himself, he's about the most vain crook we have to deal with."
"Ah, the cheerleader mentality," Monkeyfist snickered, walking into the room. "She cannot even tell when the buffoon is trying to warn her. Very well, understand this. Monkey ninjas...attack!"
Fiske jumped forward with a front flip, engaging Kim while a half-dozen monkey ninjas rushed after Ron. Kim gave ground, blocking and dodging the kung-fu master's punches and kicks while she continued to look around the room. Ron attempted the same, while pursued by the monkeys. He ducked under one table, then jumped over a second, he then slid back under the second table and jumped over the first, with the lead monkeys never more than a foot behind him.
"What's wrong," Fiske taunted the redhead. "Doesn't cheerleading include fighting anymore? Why do both you and the pretender keep running?"
"Found the tablets, KP!" Ron's shout sounded from the other end of the room.
"Blast him!" Fiske snarled, only to find himself now dodging and blocking Kim's attack. "Monkey ninjas, grab the tablets!"
A series of howls, shrieks and chitters answered him.
"Very well, if the pretender has the tablets, get him!"
Kim reminded Fiske that he had his own problems when she landed a hard kick to his stomach, sending him staggering across the room. He regained his balance and threw a series of punches and kick's at the redhead. Kim dodged and, although one kick brushed through her hair, managed to avoid being hit. In the meantime, Ron managed to shove the tablets into his cargo pocket and keep ahead of the monkeys, even though small paws made occasional, grazing contact, tugging at his clothing and hair.
Finally, Kim managed to land another hard shot to Fiske's stomach, sending him backpedaling across the room to wind up sitting in an ornate chair. Just as he fell onto the furniture, Ron approached it from behind and jumped over it, pursued by the monkeys. Fiske had the uncomfortable sensation of having a series of his monkeys jump over his head, land on his lap and continue their pursuit of the blonde. Ron ran around the chair twice and the lead monkey in pursuit caught its tail in the chair's arm. This caused a tangle in the pursuit and the remaining monkeys' tails lashed themselves into a large knot. Suddenly, Fiske found himself restrained in the chair by a tangle of his own monkey ninjas.
"I think recovering the tablets is going to be the best we can do," Ron suggested, running for the window.
"I'm forced to agree," Kim replied.
The two teens jumped out of the window and used Kim's grapple to lower themselves to the ground. After this, it was a sprint away from the castle and a call to Wade for a ride back home.
"Chippy," Fiske, still in the middle of a monkey knot, addressed one minion. "Your ear is in my left nostril and it's starting to tickle. If you don't move it I'm going to...to...to...AhChoo!"
The sneeze somehow untangled the mass of monkeys. Fiske ran to the window and looked out, to see no sign of the teens.
"The tablets were far more valuable than the scrolls," Fiske grumbled. "But at least I've had some luck translating the latter."
A monkey chittered a little at the lord.
"I don't need that attitude!" Fiske snarled at his servant. "I was in control of my fight until the lot of you entangled me! Couldn't the six of you together handle the pretender? You couldn't even catch him!"
The little primate chittered some more and held up a handful of short, blonde hair.
"I don't care if you almost caught him!" Fiske snapped. He held up his left foot and pulled three red hairs from between his monkey-like toes. "I almost struck the cheerleader. What good does plucking a few hairs do?"
Suddenly, he smiled and collected the blonde hairs from Chippy. "This little encounter might turn out to be beneficial, after all!"
"So just what are these tablets, anyway," Kim used the Kimmunicator to ask Wade. Sitting in the back of an Air Force transport, the teens could finally relax a little.
"They're supposed to describe certain rites and ceremonies used by some long-forgotten tribe," Wade replied. "Since you have some time, why don't you scan the hieroglyphics on them? I might be able to work out a translation."
"Which might tell us why Monty was interested in them in the first place," Kim concluded. For the next several minutes, she carefully scanned the sheets of bronze, transmitting the images to her young friend.
"I'll get a translation program started right away," Wade assured her. "In the meantime, aren't some judges going to watch your routine at this Friday's game? You've got several hours of flight time, so you might want to either go over your routine, do some homework or catch some sleep."
"We seem to have a grip on the routine and the homework," Kim told him. "So sleep sounds nice."
"I'll call if I can come up with anything," the boy nodded. "Wade out."
Since the teens had finished their homework on the flight to England, they spent most of the flight back sleeping. As such, they were actually well rested when they parachuted into Middleton. It was now Saturday afternoon. They went to Kim's house and called Wade, to ask him what he had discovered.
"I don't know what the ceremony is supposed to do," Wade admitted. "But it's supposed to be done as a sort of dance. I threw together a 3D simulation of it. Care to see?"
"Sure," Kim shrugged. Ron nodded.
The television in the Possibles' family room suddenly turned on and showed a figure performing a routine that looked like a combination of a dance routine, martial arts kata and tumbling demonstration.
"Wow!" Kim exclaimed, watching it. "That's almost mesmerizing." She paused a moment. "Ron! Do you think you could do that with the Mad Dog costume on? It's better than what we have you doing while we leave the court, after our routine!"
"I think so," the blonde boy stared, scratching at his chin. "That double flip at the end could be tricky with the dog's head on but you're right, it would be a better way of taking the attention away from the squad leaving the court." Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "Hey! Do you think I could get some sort of extra credit for performing a long-forgotten dance routine?"
"That's actually worth a try." Kim admitted.
Soon, the video was loaded onto the Kimmunicator, which was able to project a 3D image. The teens went outside, where Ron worked to match the movements. Of course, it was rough at first but the blonde teen proved adaptable and Kim proved a good coach. As the sun started to go down, Ron was closer to learning the routine, but he wasn't quite there.
"You see, my monkey servants, these scrolls detail the rituals needed to summon a powerful, unseen, giant and obedient monkey spirit to our reality," Fiske told his ninjas. "If I give this spirit an item belonging to a target, the spirit will not rest until the target is destroyed! We have hair from both the cheerleader and the pretender! The scroll has a list of the items I need to perform the ritual, as well as a full description of what I need to do. I can obtain the items then summon the spirit, sit back and watch it take care of those meddling teens! It is slow but unstoppable!"
Suddenly, a monkey jumped onto his desk and chittered at him some more.
"Why yes, Chippy," Fiske admitted. "If it's slow, it will take a very long time for it to cross the Atlantic and reach its targets. You're right, perhaps we should gather up what items we need and move to a location closer to the cheer squad before summoning the executioner."
The lord pulled a pen and paper from his desk and wrote out the items he needed, distributing copies of the list to his monkey ninjas to collect.
The school week went like a whirlwind for Kim and Ron. While there were no missions, there were tests, quizzes and classes to attend. Initially, Mr. Barkin refused to give Ron any extra credit for his efforts to master the ancient ritual but once Wade arranged to have two Burmese archaeologists call him and confirm that it was a real claim, the big man relented. Of course, the squad was excited about the judges watching their routine during the game on Friday. Ron continued to struggle to learn the ritual.
Surprisingly, even Bonnie was supportive of Ron's efforts.
"Anything's better than something the two of you came up with," the brunette sneered. "But if he can't hit that double flip at the end, he's going to look like a fool. Oh, excuse me, I meant an even bigger fool."
"That's enough, Bonnie," Kim growled. "That's a tough routine and Ron's a good mascot."
"As if," Bonnie snorted back. "I can hit a double flip, why can't he?"
"Can you do it while wearing the Mad Dog head?" Kim challenged.
"I don't have to," Bonnie retorted. "I'm cute. Ron needs to wear the mask."
Kim could only grind her teeth in frustration while her rival, nose oriented firmly in an upward direction, stalked off.
Monday night, Wade called again with more information about the ritual that Ron was trying to perfect.
"It's supposed to be done with an audience clapping and drums beating in a specific rhythm," he reported. "I'm downloading a sound file to you at this time."
"That does go along with the ritual," Kim noted. "I can make use of this!"
"How so?" Wade asked.
"I'll have the squad clap out this rhythm while we leave the court," Kim told him. "And I'll get the band's drummers to drum it when Ron takes the floor. It might actually help him get the moves right."
On Tuesday, Kim dropped off printed scores for the drum routine. The band's drummers didn't have any problems, since it was a fairly simple beat. She also instructed the cheerleaders to clap out the rhythm while they left the court after their routine. Of course, Bonnie complained about this.
"We're the stars, not Stoppable," she huffed. "Why should we be helping him?"
"Oh, come off it," Tara, of all people, stood up to her. "Aren't you excited about taking part in an ancient ritual? The beat will get the crowd involved and it's driving! I can really move to it!"
The blonde girl shook her hips to the beat, prompting Ron to stare. That was nothing unusual, when Tara shook her hips to a driving beat, most males in the area stared.
Bonnie actually scowled at her blonde friend for a moment.
"Besides," Crystal pointed out. "If the crowd joins in, we might get a few extra points for crowd control."
"Well, okay," Bonnie relented.
Meanwhile, Ron was just getting to the point of performing the routine with his mask on. While he was close without it, the mask was bulky, so he struggled a little. Of course, Bonnie had plenty to say about it, but the blonde boy kept at it and was much closer to perfect by the time practice was over.
On Wednesday, the band practiced with the squad. The hard work had paid off, and the live music and excellent routine was sure to have a strong impact on the judges. As the squad exited the stage, clapping out the ritual's rhythm along with the drummers, Ron burst onto the court, in full costume, executing the tumbles, strikes and acrobatics that the ancient ritual called for. His execution was both flawless and exciting..right up until the last move.
"Well, at least the judges might take the comedy element into consideration," Bonnie groused.
"Can't you feel it?" Tara countered her. "It's a powerful, driving exhibition! It's sure to grab the crowd and the judges!"
Kim had to admit that the ritual, with Ron's execution and the clapping and drumming, grabbed one's attention...almost to the point of being mesmerizing. Even if he flubbed the last move, it was sure to score some points.
Thursday's practice went much the same. This time, even Bonnie was getting excited about the entire routine, sure that the squad would score high marks and that Ron's routine would give them some extra points. Even Mr. Barkin seemed more supportive, even enthusiastic about giving Ron the extra credit for his work. That evening, Wade called again.
"I just translated another bit from the tablets," he reported. "That last move is supposed to have a half-twist, as well as the double flip."
Ron got up and tried the last couple of moves.
"That makes sense!" He burst out. "I don't know how I know this, it's just that the ending seemed...wrong..without that last bit."
"So don't know what you're talking about," Kim admitted. "But if it works for you and it helps the squad, go for it."
"Yes, Chippy, the ritual must be performed after dark," Fiske told his minion. He and the monkey were standing in front of his Land Rover, looking down a mountainside to the city of Middleton. The rest of the monkeys were in the vehicle, taking advantage of the heater. Chippy chittered at him some more.
"It's the fault of you and your fellow monkeys," Fiske told the primate. "Yes, I know that it's cold but a weather front moved into the area yesterday. We could have been here and done with this if the lot of you hadn't drank all of the banana oil and eaten the banana scented candles."
Fiske shuddered. The effects that the candle wax and fruit oils had upon his monkeys' digestive tracts had been as horrid as it had been predictable. What those out of control digestive tracts had done to his castle had been as disgusting as it had been predictable. All told, being outside in the cold but fresh air, even so far from home, came as something of a blessing.
"We cannot perform the summoning ritual until after dark, but we can prepare for it," he told his minion. "Get your fellows and set things up. I'll keep personal control over the oil and the candles, thank you very much."
With some more chitters, Chippy put the monkeys to work. The small primates leveled a patch of ground and dug arcane symbols into the earth. They set small lanterns, without candles in them at this point, at strategic places around the level patch.
While they were doing this, Fiske was reviewing the ceremony one last time, making sure that he had it committed to memory. After this, he reviewed the local newspaper on line, confirming once again that Middleton High School was playing a basketball game tonight. The cheerleader and the pretender were certain to be in the high school gym. He judged the distance between his location and the gymnasium, and was sure that the spirit monkey assassin would arrive shortly after halftime. He allowed a cruel smile to appear on his face, his irritants' demise would be visible to the general public.
Let the world see what happened to those who opposed Montgomery Fiske!
If there ever was a time that Kim wanted the basketball game to be boring, this was it. Unfortunately, it was a tooth-and-nail sort of thing, with the momentum shifting back and forth between the teams. This was the sort of game that fans loved. Usually, Kim liked these sorts of games, as well, since they seemed to stoke the energy in the gym. However, when you wanted to make sure your halftime routine was going to be flawless, boring was better. She looked over at Ron. While she couldn't see his expression under the mask, his subtle arm movements told her that he was reviewing his own routine in his mind. She took a deep breath and cheered as Middleton scored another layup on a breakaway, hoping her squad had the energy to execute the routine after a half of cheering for an exciting game.
The monkeys lit a large bonfire as the sun's last sliver vanished behind the mountains to the west. With a wave and a glare to make the primates keep their distance, Fikse placed and lit a candle in each of the lanterns and carefully trickled banana oil into the arcane symbols in the earth. He then took the samples of Possible's and Stoppable's hair, wrapped them in banana leaves, and placed them in the appropriate locations. Assuming the lotus position in his assigned location, he began the chant.
The cold night grew colder and the gentle night breeze halted. Fiske continued chanting as smoke from the bonfire swirled around the place opposite him on the level patch. Suddenly, there was the overwhelming sense that something was there, even though it couldn't be seen. The smoke continued to swirl, revealing a large, monkey-shaped hollow, in the space opposite the kung-fu master. The monkey ninjas scrambled into the Land Rover and locked the doors.
"Obey me, oh spirit!" Fiske commanded. "Take up those samples of hair before you and crush those from whom they came. Destroy my enemies, I command you!"
The hollow shape in the smoke extended two arms towards the leaf-wrapped offerings. The bundles vanished when the invisible hands reached them. The hollow shape turned and stalked off towards Middleton. Once it was out of the smoke, Fiske could no longer discern the shape, but large, monkey footprints appeared in the soft ground and grass was trampled, marking the spirit's path. Soon, it was out of the firelight and Fiske couldn't track its movement. He smiled, it was traveling at roughly a fast walk. It should reach the high school gym in under an hour.
Fiske turned on a radio, tuned to the game. He was sure the announcers would have some interesting things to report when the spirit reached the gym.
The first half had lasted longer than usual, with all of the time outs and penalties. Kim's heart was fluttering as she waited, hand raised and looking at the band director, for the teams to clear the court. The squad was just as nervous, as 'taking to the court' was part of the routine. Finally, the players had jogged off to the locker rooms and the officials had left to take a short break. She dropped her hand, prompting the band to play the Middleton fight song and the squad to take to the court.
As soon as the buzzer sounded, Vinny, Junior and Big Mike slipped out a back door and went to Vinny's car, where they had the beer and cigarettes stashed. This would be the perfect time for a quick sip and a smoke, since they were pretty sure everyone would be watching the cheerleaders perform. Vinny was careful to only have half a beer, since he'd have to drive home tonight. While they were talking and smoking, Big Mike was suddenly sent sprawling.
"What's wrong?" Junior asked. "Does one can of beer put you on the ground?"
"Shut up!" Big Mike snarled back. "It's like something just shoved me out of the way!"
The squad finished their routine, flawlessly like usual. Now, they started clapping and foot-stamping to they rhythm as they left the court. The drummers and even some of the audience took up the beat and now it was time! Ron rushed onto the court, executing the front handspring, the half-twist and then the back handspring and somersault. Now came the jump and twirl that dropped into the deep squat and spring. More of the audience took up the beat and the Ron-man was in the zone!
Phillipe the janitor enjoyed the fresh air on his face. Sometimes, the gym got stuffy and you just had to stick your head outside and get some cold air. Suddenly, the door was yanked right off of its hinges and he was sent sprawling back into the gym, slamming against the wall opposite the back door.
Ron executed the last double flip with a half twist and stuck the landing. The applause thundered in his ears and he felt a jolt through his body, similar to when he had been exposed to the Mystical Monkey Power. In fact, he felt very strong. He jumped and waved, performing a couple of flips as he made his way to a the corner of the gym where the squad was assembling. Kim was absolutely beaming, Crystal, Hope, Marcella, Jess and Liz were hugging each other, Tara was looking at him and clapping and even Bonnie was smiling.
The blonde boy pulled off the mad dog head and caught a blessed breath of air. Kim gave him a massive hug and Tara gave him a peck on the cheek. The applause started to quiet as the fans anticipated the second half. It became just quiet enough to hear the Kimmunicator's tone from Ron's sweat pants.
Ron pulled the device out of his pocket and handed it to Kim.
"Great job guys," the boy congratulated his friends. "But I've got some news. Monkeyfist's plane landed at the Middleton International Airport earlier today. Right now, I've got eyes on a Land Rover sitting next to a bonfire and a circle of candles up on Mt. Middleton, with a direct line of sight to the gym."
"At least he waited until we were done with the routine," Kim grumbled. "Bonnie, you have the squad. Ron and I better check this out. Who knows what Monty's up to?"
Bonnie led the squad back to the sidelines to cheer for the second half while Kim and Ron rushed down a short hallway to a back door. They stopped short when they saw a janitor sprawled on the ground and the door torn from its hinges.
Out in the parking lot, Big Mike was getting angry.
"I'm telling you, something just flat out shoved me out of the way!" He growled at his companions.
Suddenly, he was sent sprawling again, this time in the opposite direction as the first time.
Up on Mt. Middleton, Fiske was getting increasingly anxious. According to his calculations, the spirit should have reached the gymnasium by now, but the radio announcers were only talking about the game. Then, they mentioned something about the cheer squad's routine, followed by the mascot's performance. Then they talked about the teams returning to the court and the fact that Kim Possible wasn't with the cheer squad when it returned to the sidelines. Had the spirit eliminated Possible and Stoppable in a very discrete manner? From his vantage point, he could now see the red, flashing lights of an ambulance heading towards the gymnasium.
Feeling the call of nature, Fiske directed his minions to gather more firewood while he stalked a short distance away and performed his business. Returning to the Land Rover, his ears were assaulted by the sudden, terrified shrieks of his monkeys. Chippy sprang over the vehicle and seized his hand, pulling him away from the bonfire. Suddenly, the swirling smoke revealed the hollow form of the spirit, opposite the vehicle from the kung-fu master. It seemed to be striding directly towards him and Fiske suddenly went cold inside. That cold feeling turned to panic when his car was thrown to one side.
Monty had no idea what was happening but he knew something was wrong. He was no coward but he was also not too proud to run like hell when the situation called for it. He fled for his life, the sounds of his monkeys shrieking in pain and fear sounding in his ears. He didn't know if he should be grateful for their sacrifice or horrified at what was happening to them.
Some time later, a helicopter swooped down to hover above the bonfire. A rope descended and two teenagers slid down it to look in confusion around the site. They were both happy that it wasn't fully light when they saw the small, crumpled forms on the ground.
"We need an emergency veterinarian," Kim called into Wade. "We just found several of Fiske's monkeys and they aren't in very good shape. Also, the Land Rover is laying on its side but I can't see any sort of skid marks that would suggest some sort of accident."
"Throw in the fact that a janitor got knocked out, a gym door was torn off of its hinges and something apparently roughed up Big Mike in the parking lot and we have the ingredients for a major mystery." Ron commented. He then knelt and tried to talk to one of the injured monkeys.
"Any sign of Fiske?" Wade asked.
"Nothing," Kim remarked. Suddenly, Rufus started to chitter. Kim and Ron followed the sound to a point near the bonfire. There, visible in the firelight, they saw a large, clawed footprint.
"It looks like a monkey's print," Ron commented. "But it would have to be a very large monkey."
"There's more prints," Kim added. They lead towards where the Land Rover must have been sitting when it was tipped onto its side."
A ping was heard from the Kimmunicator.
"What was that?" Ron demanded. "Wade, when your things go ping it's seldom anything good!"
"It's just my translation routine finishing up," the boy told his friend. "I can now tell you what that routine you performed is supposed to do."
"Well, what did I just manage?" The blonde asked.
"Okay, it seems that the scrolls that Fiske stole are instructions to summon some sort of invisible, unstoppable monkey assassin." Wade told them, reading from his screen. "If you can summon the thing and give it some hair or other body part of a target, it will never stop until the target is killed."
"Not the thing I like to hear while on a dark mountainside," Kim remarked.
"Only one thing will stop it," Wade told her.
"And that would be?" Ron prompted.
"The routine you just performed," Wade told him. "According to my translation, once someone summons the evil spirit, if someone imbued with the Mystical Monkey Power performs the routine to the accompaniment of at least a dozen people clapping their hands or playing drums, the spirit will turn on its summoner and not rest until the summoner is destroyed."
"So you're telling me some sort of monkey spirit is chasing you?" Shego asked Fiske.
"Indeed," the Englishman told her. "I didn't know the details immediately, of course. I only knew that for some reason, it had failed to attack the cheerleader and the pretender and had turned upon me. I ran all the way back to the airport, boarded my aircraft and flew back to my estate. In route, Possible's technical support boy contacted me and told me what had happened."
"What did you do?" Shego asked him.
"I returned to my estate and went about my business," Fiske informed her. "I was sure that it would be unable to find me with the Atlantic between us. For roughly three months, I was correct."
"After three months?" She prompted him.
"Late one night, my main door suddenly burst open," he answered. "A fate shared by every door between the main entrance to my castle and my bedchamber."
"What did you do?" Shego asked.
"I fled out the back door, jumped into my car and drove to London," he answered. "I caught the first international flight available. Since then, I've stayed at a series of suites, rental homes and other abodes, always making sure there are at least two exits from every place I go. It always finds me, eventually. I am due for it to locate me here, which is why I have been having trouble sleeping lately. I think that it always knows what direction it has to travel to find me but once it gets close, this sense becomes useless and it has to rely on other senses."
"So you can't just stay out of sight?" Shego asked him.
"It's blind," he answered. "It makes sense. Since it is invisible, photons don't interact with its body, including optic nerves. No, once it gets close it relies on scent. For this reason, I have not used the back door. When it arrives, it will follow my scent to the front door and I will flee out the back." He paused. "Shego, are you unwell?"
"You say it tracks you by scent?" The now pale woman asked. "Monty, when I first slipped in through the window, I stepped out the front door for a look around. I swore I heard footsteps and sniffing."
"Then it is in the immediate area," Fiske informed her. He rose to his feet, reached into a wardrobe and pulled out a backpack. "I will probably be leaving or, more to the point fleeing, very shortly."
His speech was punctuated by the suite's front door suddenly shattering into the room.
"Step to the side of the room," Fiske instructed, fleeing into his bedroom and to the back door. "It has no interest in you, so you will only be harmed if you get in the way."
Shego stared, only partially believing her eyes, as she saw a series of footprints appear in the thick carpeting. She heard the back door open and Monty rush down the hallway. Unable to help herself, she rushed out of the front door and down the hall, putting herself in front of whatever was creating the footprints before it could leave the suite via the same back door that Fiske had just fled through. Curious, she loosed a weak spray of plasma towards the footprints that were now appearing in the bedroom carpet. Her green plasma revealed a large, monkey-shaped hollow coming through the door.
Still curious, Shego stepped forward and increased the plasma's strength to her full power. Still the invisible spirit advanced and, with her now in the way, simply swatted her to one side.
She had never been hit so hard in her life, flying a good thirty feet down the hallway. Still, she remained still and quiet, quiet enough to hear footprints striding down the hall, away from her. Moments later, the door to the stairs at that end of the hall burst open.
Shego staggered to her feet and decided that it was time to vacate the immediate area. Someone was sure to show up and investigate the noise and if they saw her here with all this damage, certain assumptions were certain to be made. It was time to go back and report what she had learned to Dr. D.
Fiske was right, he wasn't going to be good company for the foreseeable future.
A/N:
Thanks to Joe Stoppinghem, for giving it a once-over before I published.
Happy Halloween, everyone.