This is a little different than what I usually post, mostly because it's out of context, so here's a quick rundown.
Me and my friend Oddi Hyde roleplay with out characters Morgan Xanthos (the daughter of Xana, mine) and Feather Pandora Shade (Shifter who was once at the lead of Xana's army but then betrayed him, Oddi's) Shifters are genetically altered super creatures that are enhanced physically and also can shapeshift and sometimes have some other stray powers. Morgan and Feather used to try to kill each other a lot because they were supposed to. Morgan found out Xana just wanted to use her as a weapon and mutual respect with Feather eventually leads to a sort of friendship where she's ready to betray her father as well. The Institute is a place where Shifters are researched but it's 2% research 98% brutal torture.
I hope that helps it's just I thought this was so great it needed to be posted.
Also for those of you who know my style, this has some different stuff than my usual content there is mention of rape and Feather curses like a sailor. You have been warned.
Morgan walked into Feather's cabin and found the Shifter unconscious on the floor in a pool of blood with a knife in one hand and her other arm ripped apart.
"Seriously...?" Morgan stared at the body. Was Feather dead? Again? Morgan figured she should sit there and wait for Feather to recover to figure out what happened. A few hours later, Feather woke up.
"Am I going to be able to trust you with a weapon?" Morgan asked. Feather had such suicidal tendencies...and they had increased since her rescue from the Institute a week ago.
"You will now." Feather opened her fist, and on her palm rested a tiny little chip so coated in flesh and blood it took Morgan a second to figure out that it was a tracking device.
"...There is a way to deactivate it without cutting your arm open and wasting a life."
"It was the only way to know for sure." Feather retorted.
"Fine, we cannot change that now. Glad to be rid of it?" Morgan asked.
"I'm afraid it's not the only one." Feather looked down at herself. Morgan thought for a moment and then grabbed Feather's wrist.
"Follow me." She led Feather out of her cabin.
"What the hell are you doing?" Feather snarled. She struggled out of Morgan's grip and sank into a fighting stance.
"Relax. I am going to check if there are any more using my supercomputer. If there are any left, I will deactivate them."
"How do you know it'll work?" Feather asked.
"Electronics are my area of expertise. If you do not trust me to know how to deactivate a tracking device...you cannot trust anyone to do it."
"There people's tech make the supercomputer look like a child's toy."
"Yes, but weren't they inserted a long time ago? ...I can completely remove them without killing you. Just let me help." Morgan wanted to be able to say she did some good after breaking from Xana. Feather had made a patch in Morgan's programming so that Xana could not directly control her.
"No, you...you don't get it. They replaced them." Feather said. At this point Morgan got impatient with Feather's stubborn attitude, grabbed her wrist again, and pulled her along toward the sewers. There was a perpetual muffled growl from Feather but she trailed after Morgan.
They arrived at Morgan's supercomputer room in an offshoot of the sewer route to the factory. The supercomputer looked newer and there was a huge rectangular scanner, originally designed so that the larger monsters could be materialized without breaking the scanners. "Well, get in." Morgan said, gesturing to the scanner.
Feather paused for a moment before stepping into the scanner. Her hands shook by her sides; she shoved them into her pockets in the hope that Morgan wouldn't notice. Morgan noticed it, she notices everything, though she doesn't always connect observations to meaning.
"Relax." Morgan said. "I know what I am doing." She pressed a few keys to begin the scanning process.
"I don't doubt that." Feather nearly leaped out of her skin as the doors closed before her, locking her inside. They were faster and louder, and they smelled of monsters. "Make this fast."
Morgan sat down in front of the screen and started the scan. There was nothing to worry about, there would be no-
There were other chips. Two of them. One between the Carotid and Jugular arteries in her neck, the other drilled into her Femur. Both of those locations would make for insanely risky surgery. Each chip ran on a tiny nuclear reactor encased in lead encased in titanium. Morgan had been hoping the chips would be electrical...What kind of money dd these guys even have? Or did they get nuclear reactors by some other means. So Morgan couldn't just switch them off. Could she somehow mask or scramble the signal so that they couldn't find her? She let Feather out of the scanner.
"Well, plan A is not going to work. Those do not run on electricity and taking them out would be risky. One is in your neck, and the other in your femur. I do not consider myself an expert on skills needed for surgery. However, I can attempt it if you would like. First...let me try this." She tried to set up an electromagnetic field around Feather. It would make Feather's hair stand up a little but it would also block the signal.
Feather practically bolted from the scanner. She stood in the middle of the room, trying to catch her breath. Morgan's words only made it harder.
"You're joking, right, please tell me you're—AUGH!" The second the field formed, a furious burning began in her neck. It escalated so fast she couldn't react. Her body tensed and she fell to the ground like a log. The walls echoed with her screams as she thrashed on the ground, nails clawing at her throat in an effort to make the pain stop. Morgan stopped projecting the field.
"All right. That would be a no. Hm...They are more clever than I originally gave them credit for. After all it was very easy to break you out."
Feather lay on her back, her chest heaving. Sweat soaked her skin in the brief time she had been in agony. "Don't you ever...ever, ever, ever try that again." She gasped.
"I understand." Morgan responded.
"Good." Feather replied. She reached up and touched her throat with one hand. Hot fluid stuck to her skin. It smelled like blood. She had done more damage to herself than she thought. It wasn't deep, thankfully, but it hurt. "What now?"
"Lyoko would be interpreted as blocking the signal. Perhaps the only way is to take them out by hand." Morgan was pensive for a moment before getting a fantastic idea. "Or...what if I deactivated them from inside the Institute computers?"
"They would know..." Feather responded.
"Could always just destroy the organization."
"They've been around since the Romans."
"Really?" Morgan looked it up on the network. She was right. "Well...you learn something new every day."
"Mhm."
"Something always works. There are 1,000 ways to approach a problem." Morgan's mind was working toward a solution...and she always found the solution.
"No, Morgan, you don't get it. There is no winning against the Institute. They've been around for so long, there is nothing you can do they haven't prepared for."
"Yes there is. There is no enemy that cannot be defeated."
"You haven't been there."
"I know."
"Morgan, these are humans with no shred of guilt. There are humans who will just as soon rip the skin off a cub when they've has a bad day. There are deaf to the screams of those who suffer. They will crush anyone who tries to stop them." She was trying to get through to the stubborn Specter. Morgan stopped talking at that point and just quietly nodded. It was obvious she was no longer paying much attention to what Feather said. Instead she was formulating a plan to destroy these people. If anyone was going to be a remorseless psychopath in this world, it was her.
"Don't ignore me, you arrogant prick." Feather snarled. "You can't do a damn thing. You shouldn't do a damn thing."
"But you know I will and you know you cannot stop me." Morgan finally spoke up.
"I will die trying. Doing anything is an act of way. You would incite the wrath of a casual torture upon my kind?" Feather was, in her own way, pleading with Morgan, but it didn't matter. She had already made her decision.
With little more than a flick of the wrist a black misty figure appeared near Feather, and then Morgan because much like that black misty figure, and disappeared into the supercomputer.
"Goddamn it." Feather snarled. She swatted at the figure angrily, well aware she wouldn't do any damage. An indeed, it did nothing. It just kinda floated there and would continue to do so unless Feather was in any danger, then it would neutralize the threat. Those were the only instructions it had. It was the most simple and easy to run version of the specter. Morgan, meanwhile, was excited. She would put her training to use on something that was actually good.
"Fuck this." Feather pulled out her phone and wrote up a text to Jeremie.
Hack into the institute, get ready to piss off Morgan.
Morgan arrived in the network of the Institute undetected. The computers obeyed her, after all. All right. Time to mess up their day.
Jeremie was roused from sleep by his phone buzzing—on his face. He picked it up and read the text, at four in the morning. Feather was usually busy with one of her...lovers. So receiving a message from her meant things were about to go bad. He grabbed his laptop and quickly broke into the Institute's network. A chunk of code glowed violently red, Morgan.
Morgan sensed another presence and turned her head. What was he doing here? She sent a message.
Go away, Belpois. This does not concern. I am not even doing anything wrong.
What exactly is going on? Did you walk in on Feather and one of her...friends...again? You know she hates that.
No...not this time. I am trying to help and I suppose she does not want me to but that does not matter.
Morgan moved on. The main headquarters was this underground complex, all very high tech. Unnecessarily so. So what would be easiest? Finesse it? Or find someone and start hacking bones with their body?
Help how? Give me specifics.
I am taking this organization out.
...And she doesn't want that?
Well it is good to know I am not the only one confused by that.
What did she say?
I stopped listening after a little while. Ask her.
Morgan kind of wanted to go with the later plan. It was messier but far more fun.
Hang on, I'm getting a test-
Jeremie squinted at his phone.
SHE CONVINCED YOU DIDN'T SHE
Morgan needed to find someone..someone weak willed would do best.
Feather swore loudly, Jeremie hadn't stood a chance. She slunk over to the interface of the supercomputer, tacked Morgan's coordinates, and set them as the destination for teleportation. Morgan couldn't be allowed to start a war. She couldn't be.
There...there was a woman. She looked perfect for the job. Morgan moved to an outlet near her.
The teleportation process was far more painful than it should have been, the supercomputer at the factory was more fine tuned to physical creatures than this one, she guessed. She didn't even take the time to recover once she appeared in a flash of light in the institute. Immediately she was swamped with the overwhelming scent of bleach. The chemical was used in copious amounts to try to hide the reek of death and blood in the air, but the odors clung to the walls like glue. Every instinct Feather had told her to run, but the fate of her species rested on her shoulders.
"Morgan, you insensitive cunt! Get your arse out here before I start tearing chunks out of your computer."
Feather? Here? Really? Morgan sent her a text.
I'm saving your species. Now leave. You do not need to be here.
"Saving it? You're damning it!" Feather roared as she thew her phone through the nearest wall. "You can't stop the Institute! It is too big! Too dangerous, too fucking smart!"
"Then what do you want me to do...?" Morgan asked.
"I want you to leave the Institute alone, damn it. There's nothing you can do." Footsteps echoed on the tile floor in the distance. Shouts and guns cocking echoed on the walls. Security was on its way. Morgan heard it, rushed over in a flash, and possessed a security guard.
"Really? But they keep hurting people...and for such a pointless reason. There's an art to murder that these people do not seem to understand." The guard's mouth articulated these words, but it was clear that Morgan's consciousness had taken over.
"There's no art. There's no grace, no beauty. It's just the way the world works, Morgan. People die all the time for no reason."
Behind the guard, the other members of staff exclaimed in alarm and raised their guns. Feather threw herself behind a nearby desk for cover as the staff realized that the guard before them wasn't in control of herself. There was a single shot and the sound of a body hitting the ground...So she just jumped to another. Honestly she could do this all day. One thing could do the trick in stopping Morgan and they didn't have it. Only two people know of its existence. One was dead, and one was the Shifter hiding behind the table.
Feather crawled around the other side of the desk and headed back toward the group of guards. The scent of blood and the splatter of gray matter on one wall awakened something within her. The hunt was on. She leaped from the shadows and shifted midair. One of the guards let out a piercing scream and turned to aim, but it was too late. Feather landed on him, a full-fledged wolf, and sank her fangs deep into his throat. The rich flavor of blood warmed her tongue. Humans always had a much saltier taste than deer, and she would have been lying if she said she hadn't missed it.
Morgan smirked, she was glad Feather was fighting with her. She had the guard open fire on other security guards coming down the hall. That's right. Keep coming to your doom. More blood. More screams. Feather ripped a chunk of meat from the guard's throat and swallowed it. Confident he was dead, she lunged down the hall and took down yet another one. His head fit easily in her jaws; she bit down until his skull broke apart and dropped the corpse. Another, and another...an alarm sounded, deafening to her ears. She ignored it and went for a more heavily armed guard. And Morgan kept going. Eventually the guard she was in would be shot down, but she would simply jump into the killer and keep going. She got this sick and twisted joyful feeling from this. I mean yeah she had promises to keep for Feather, but death and destruction were missing in her life. This was just the thing she needed. She sent a simple specter or two to go around and free prisoners. What was the point of doing this if the Shifters weren't rescued.
The Buchannan's version of a SWAT team rounded the corner, machine guns blazing. The guard in possession of the Specter was peppered with bullets...It took them a moment to notice the wolf that had slunk into their ranks and was now picking them off, one by one.
Shapeshifters poured into the halls, terrified and emaciated, but most of all...angry. Very, very angry.
With maniacal laughter Morgan rose out of the newly peppered corpse. She saw the SWAT team that dared to get in her way. It was hysterical. She sweeped her arm in front of her and released a wave of electricity on the SWAT team. And...suddenly the entire team dropped. Feather stood, tongue lolling and covered in blood, absolutely dumbfounded as to where her prey had gone. She didn't need to do so for long; more guns were cocking in the distance. She let out a howl of fury and bolted down the hall to wreak more havoc.
"DO NOT STOP UNTIL IT IS ALL OBLITERATED!" Morgan yelled to the other Shifters. Just to screw with them, she hacked into the power and diverted it from the lights and appliances to herself. She heard the guns. "You're trying the same old trick and expecting different results." She got a crazy look in her eyes. "Not as smart as we think we are, are we? You haven't dealt with the likes of me!" She started shooting electricity at snipers.
There they were. Feather skidded to a halt. These men looked as though they had stepped from her nightmares, the ones that had haunted her for over fifty years. She remembered their faces with expressions of twisted pleasure, each one's breath on her neck. Images of their weight over her naked body, of them...laughing...she felt sick.
They had been too strong then to be completely human, and now she knew why. They hadn't aged a day. Fear crept through her chest, her feet, to the end of each claw. It didn't last. The taste of blood was fresh on her tongue and she craved more. There was no other flesh she wanted more than theirs. She leaped into their midst, he eyes gleaming madly. Revenge would be served. The other Shifters were all experiencing something similar.
Perhaps this was the true purpose Xana had in mind from the beginning. Shifter and Specters working together. It was working marvelously. Instead of working against each other as equals, they would work together at exponential strength. A fusion of biology and technology that could demolish any civilization in its way.
By the time a group of Shapeshifters turned a corner, they had slaughtered everything in their path. Legend had it that nothing could stop a Clan of Shifters in the grip of blood-lust, but legend hadn't accounted for everything. Their snarls and squeals of delight were cut short by the scene before them. Memories flowed from their cubhoods, of being raised with stories of the yellow-eyed warrior that had ascended to power through the greatest display of violence known, turned on her mate, killed the chiefteain...they believed these stories now. Before them stood a vixen in lupine form, her fur so drenched with human blood that it streamed down her legs in rivers, that they couldn't see the true color of her fut. Her eyes were a piercing yellowish amber and they glittered with sheer madness. Insanity was becoming of such a creature, and it scared each and every Shapeshifter shitless. Morgan turned back when she noticed the Shifters weren't moving anymore.
"What is wrong? It is just Feather. COME ON!" she yelled.
They turned back to glance at the Specter. The disbelief at her ability to bruch off such a sight was overwhelming. In front of them Feather shook her fur out and let out a howl that cut every single creature that heard it right to the bone.
"Destroy them. Make them plead for their lives the way we did. Strike into their hearts the terror of death. Remind them why they feared the darkness of our forests, of our homes. We had to become worse than them to survive, not let us make them regret it!" Feather rallied.
"These are just security and experimenters. Although they deserve to die slowly and painfully, if we want to stop this from ever happening we need to get right to the source of the problem and destroy those in charge." Morgan said this while still killing, but she looked less insane. She was finally thinking in terms of strategy instead of just killing what was in front of her.
"We have all the time in the world, my friend!" Feather snarled, leaping onto another scientist and snapping her neck with ease. "No one will survive, no one will be able to tell the stories of their defeat!"
All around them Shapeshifters plunged into battle. Even the largest of their numbers was dwarfed by the creatures that lurked ahead. The Institute had not been idle while Feather had been free, and she was oblivious to all of it. The delighted roars of victorious Shifters drowned out the fearful screams of their victims. Morgan did hear what was up ahead though. What, they had Shifters of their own? Hehe...it would be interesting to see which was stronger, her or these new Shifters. She landed right in front of them.
"Hello, I am the one you fear at night." She launched herself at them.
The roars of these new Shifters were different from their natural counterparts. Their snarls lacked the sentience to truly be angry. It was the kind of sound that struck terror in the natural Shifters. Even so, Feather leaped beside Morgan, fangs barred. She careened into the nearest one, a male twice her size. She bit down on the back of his neck and held on, only to be torn away by the jaws of another, a female. Feather struggled in her grip to no avail, watching in horror as the battalion lunged for Morgan. Morgan quickly observed the situation and knew what she needed to do. As enemies they canceled each other out. As allies they increased their power. She jumped out of the pack nearly as fast as teleportation...
Right into Feather's body.
She did not cut off Feather's consciousness or her ability to control the body. Their thoughts and movements were one. The teeth, now vibrating at high speeds like a chainsaw, sank through the Shifter's neck.
"WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" Feather roared, releasing her grip on the now headless corpse beneath her. She leaped for the next attacker, her muscles flexing with new found strength. Morgan had given her more energy, more power, more...confusion? The ability to hear another's thought so clearly had never belonged to her. At most she got vague impressions of what Shapeshifters felt, never outright clarity.
"WE are killing these Shifters and doing a pretty good job of it." Feather's mind was...dirty...even during this? "Don't think about it too much and just go!"
"Excuse yourself, I thought you were, like, a vampire? Had to ask before inserting yourself into one's meat sack?" She grumbled as she brought down a huge tiercel.
"If I had to ask every time it would be extremely irritating. Most people never even know I did anything. Hey, watch this." They plunged a hand onto one of the Shifters and sent a huge electrical current through it. "Feel that coursing energy? It is nice, isn't it? It makes you feel incredibly powerful, no?" she laughed, but she wasn't sure whether it escaped through Feather's lips or not.
"Love, if I want power all I need to do is find someone willing to fuck me senseless." Feather cackled, being sure to bring up as many memories of her exploits as possible to prove her point.
"Is that really necessary?" Morgan asked.
"You continue to confuse me with your ability to ignore my grandest of victories!" she laughed. Her laughter was cut short by a guttural choking sound, followed by a cough. Blood splattered from her lips and she looked down slowly. The tip of a blade about as wide as a dinner plate stuck out of her midsection. White hot agony filled her mind as the blade was ripped out. Feather fell to her knees as blood poured from the wounds.
"No. We aren't done yet." Morgan could keep Feather's body going. All possession was was sending electrical pulses through the brain to the body. She cut off Feather's consciousness so she wouldn't feel the pain. "OK, WHO DID THAT?!"
Behind them stood an unusually small vixen, her light gold hair pulled back in a bun. One eye gleamed yellow and the other silver. The family resemblance was uncanny, but the delight across her face was unmatched. She slung the enormous sword over one shoulder. Feather's mind called forth a name so soaked with blood and terror that it was almost enough to return control to her body.
"Thyra." Morgan could tell this was one of Feather's many cubs. The family resemblance was unmistakable. "Is it ok with you that I kill her? She is your family." Morgan asked Feather.
It isn't just her. It's never just her, she's never alone, she's never..." Feather's thoughts drifted off, still in complete shock. It wouldn't be long before even Morgan couldn't keep her damaged body upright. "Don't let your guard down, Morgan. Until you can see Wibeke, neither of us are safe..."
"Focus your energy on healing yourself." Morgan could sense beings all around, beings fighting and dying. Who was this Wibeke? She sent an electrical shock along the floor, making the new Shifter jump in the air, then shot. Thyra leaped into the air with impossible grace, deflecting the blow with her blade as she did so. There was a blinding flash and she vanished from sight. Blood continued to pool beneath Feather. Her nervous system was beginning to slow, to weaken. The process of death had begun.
Just then a bright blue streak whizzed right by Feather's face. It looked like something out of the matrix, Morgan and Feather's currently shared face contorted instantly. Recognition and...fear. They whirled around to the source of the shot.
"Thank you, Thyra, but you won't be necessary here. Go round up the escaped subjects. If our friend here is anything like her namesake, she likes pretty words and needs to hear what I'm saying." A woman walked out of the dark hallway, She held a gun in her hand that glowed slightly. She wore rubber gloves and had a no nonsense attitude. This was a lady who got the job done. "Morgan Xanthos. You've created quite a ruckus in this facility, but it's time to stop with your silly war games now. You see what I hold in my hand. You know what it is. The weapon that can kill anyone with a single hit to any part of their body, including you."
Everything seemed very quiet. Morgan could not think. She did not know what to do. This body wasn't fast enough to get out of the way in time.
"Now...get out of the Shifter and out of the network or I shoot you and your Shifter friend dead here. I've tested this on Shifters before, it shatters every life stone."
Slowly...Morgan rose and separated from Feather...she brought the extra specters back to her...and got out of the computer. The lights all turned back on.
"How did you get that gun?"
"Taelia told me about it. A person will tell you a lot if you torture them badly enough. Even if she doesn't remember it."
"Hmph...screwing me over even from the grave, are we, Taelia?" Morgan grumbled.
Feather fell back, gasping harshly as she was given control of her own body. Blood was dripping, no...pouring from the wound in her abdomen. Her aorta had been severed. Thyra nodded to the woman respectfully and crouched over her dying mother. She watched Feather's face contort with pain and fear, and for a moment recognized the anger that gleamed behind her piercing yellow eyes. It was an anger that had been passed down through blood. The kind of anger that didn't just fade.
There was a muffled thump as Wibeke landed beside her, his bow clenched in his fist. He looked more like his father, different from his twin sister who took after their mother. His hair was silver, his eyes an icy shade of blue. He, too, was small; maybe about 5'4", at most 120 pounds. Both were lean and well-muscled, and both were incapable of emotion. Thyra leaned forward and stroked Feather's cheek. There was no love, no anger. Nothing. Just a primal need for touch.
Morgan glanced back at Feather. Ah, that must have been Wibeke.
"HEY! Eyes on me!" The woman barked. Now...Morgan found herself in a particularly tricky situation. She could break for it and escape, leaving these others to suffer and die. That is definitely what she had been trained to do. Everyone else was disposable in order to ensure her own safety. This was the perfect opportunity to prove that she had changed.
"If I let you research me will you let there Shifters go or at least remove Fetaher's tracking devices?" Morgan asked.
"You are in no position to negotiate. If it makes you feel any better we won't take all of her lives. Now. This way." In one fluid movement she circled Morgan, now behind her, pressed a gun to her, and prodded her forward. As Morgan walked the woman leaned in real close and whispered. "How does it feel to have your life in the hands of a human?"
That hit a nerve, and a shudder like twitch went through Morgan's entire being...but she kept walking. She wasn't defeated. She would figure this out even if she had to stay at the facility for a while.
The realization that it was all over was not kind. Feather watched Morgan round the corner and vanish out of sight. Her chest felt hollow. They had been so close to victory, so close to revenge. In one fell swoop it had all been snatched away and now here she lay, bleeding out at the hands of the two creatures she feared most. Thyra knelt over her, expression tender. Wibeke muttered something in thick German and his sister nodded in response. She stood and grabbed Feather by the back of her shirt. The two headed down the hall, kicking corpses out of the was, dragging their dying mother behind them.
It was not all over. There was always a way to fight back. There always was. The lady led Morgan to a cell which was absolutely bare except for four gatling guns on all corners of the room and blue electricity in the doorway.
"This will disrupt you. Misbehave and you and everyone else dies. I've always wanted to capture Xana to see what all the fuss is about. You'll have to do. I have some cleanup to do, but I'll be back." She left Morgan along with er thoughts. Disgraceful, absolutely disgraceful. She couldn't help but think that she should have abandoned everyone. She had gone against instinct. That was...strange.
Feather opened her eyes slowly. The world was blurry at first, so much so that it made her dizzy. Blood loss was a difficult thing to recover from, even after dying. And now...here she was, splayed against a wall. The heavy chains that held her upright dug into her wrists. She looked down—it wasn't the first time she had awoken without clothes—and then examined the room around her. Sterile, pale, well let. The stench of bleach was overwhelming. Before her stood Thyra and Wibeke. Behind them was Morgan.
Morgan tried to give Feather a reassuring look. A look that said she was there.
"The first thing we'll be testing is her sense of empathy. You aren't supposed to have one. Right Morgan?"
"Yes." Morgan's voice was cold and mechanical, she wouldn't let them get to her.
"You forget we spend a lot of time trying to kill each other." Feather growled. Her accent was thick with anxiety.
"So you wouldn't mind if, say, we slashed up your friend?" She turned to Feather. "If she really hated you she would have left."
"No. I would not mind." Morgan said. They started slowly carving at Feather.
Feather bit back a scream of agony as the blade broke the skin. Any other blade wouldn't have hurt as much, but this was special. The metal was plated with silver, a metal especially deadly to Shapeshifters. There were the reason silver bullets were a part of the werewolf myth. Blood streamed down her leg and the flesh around the wound turned a sickening bluish-gray. Another slash, slow and painful, to her cheek. She gasped and shuddered. Thyra wiped the blood away. The woman studied Morgan's face, but saw no change.
"You're like her, aren't you? You're going to make me work but it's going to be sweet when you break. I suppose you wouldn't mind slicing through her flesh yourself."
"Silver...You really do your research." She started drawing a pattern with the blade. Whoops, it was the eye of Xana...just the first thing she thought of. "You'll get your turn. Don't worry."
Oh. So that was how this was going to be. Feather shudered as the blade sank into the skin over her heart. Branded with the eye of Xana...it hurt more than any amount of silver. Perhaps she had never escaped his shadow after all. She snarled as Thyra grabbed her by her hair and pulled her head back. Wibeke traced a sharpened nail over her exposed throat. His German accent was thick when he spoke.
"Don't struggle. This is just the beginning."
"Can I leave now?" Morgan asked. "You figured out what you wanted to know."
"No."
Morgan thought, hoping that Feather's telepathy thing would be working, that they had the means to kill them all permanently if she didn't play along.
The door opened, just loud enough to rouse Feather from the pain. Thyra and Wibeke backed away from their mother, eyes locked on the ground in respect. The tiercel that prowled in was enormous—nearly 6'9", with broad shoulders and a sharp angular face. His hair was a natural silver, and his eyes the same shade of blue as Wibeke's. Feather's eyes gleamed with recognition.
"I see you remember me," he said softly. "As you remember our children."
That had to be Riot, right? Did that mean Feather was about to get violated or something? That...hn. Still, her face revealed nothing. "Are you Riot, by any chance?" Morgan asked.
"So she told you about me?" He checkled. "I am honestly not surprised. We were happy together once."
Feather spat on his face. He wiped it away with a casual air like it hadn't been the first time she had ever done such a thing. There was a pause between them, and then he slapped her across the face. She sagged in the chains, dazed.
"She told me some. Not much."
"I assume she told you the fun I had with her?" Riot grabbed her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. "It's a shame. You were so pretty before your face got all mussed."
"She didn't tell me in any detail, but I can imagine." She didn't really want to see what was going to happen next. "You know, I'd rather like to see how you'd match up to me in a fight. Perhaps those in the Institute would be interested to find out as well?"
"Don't think I can't see what you're doing, specter." he replied. He leaned down and pressed his lips against Feather's roughly. She struggled against him, but he was far too strong. The second he shoved his tongue into her mouth she bit down—hard. He staggered back, screaming. "You bitch! You fucking bitch, you'll be screaming for death by the time I've finished with you!"
"You cannot blame me for trying." Morgan smiled a little at Feather, that's right, fight back. Never give up. "How crude..."
Riot gripped Feather by the throat and slammed her hard against the wall. She grunted under his weight. He could do whatever he wanted to her; she had stopped caring hours ago. He nails scored deep cuts in her stomach, her hips...his hands roamed downwards, stroking, clawing. Feather whined quietly, fear alight in her eyes.
This made Morgan pretty uncomfortable. And she didn't like the fact that she couldn't stop it. She stood there and did nothing. She was there for Feather through. She would not leave. She also knew torture would be coming soon. If they studied Xana as much as they gave the impression they did...they probably had some method. She could guess what it was.
The second Riot reached to undo his pants, Feather decided she had enough. She lifted herself up by the chains and wrapped her legs around Riot's head.
"You wanna be between my legs, bitch?! Wish fucking granted!" She twisted her hips sharply, clenching her thighs around his head. There was a crack and Riot fell, limp. Thyra and Wibeke stepped over their father's corpse to subdue her, but she ducked her daughter's blade and delivered a brutal kick to her solar plexus. Wibeke slashed at her with the silver knife, scoring deep wounds across Feather's gut. She couldn't have cared less. She slammed her head into his. When he fell, she met Morgan's gaze. "Gonna need some help to bust these chains, love!"
"You up to dodging bullets that could kill you for good?" Morgan asked as she broke the chains.
"When am I not doing that, my friend?" Feather rubbed her wrists, trying to ignore the soreness the chains had caused. Then she bent down, unbuckled Riot's belt, and slipped into his pants. They were too large, but they would have to do. He could run around in his undies for all the shits she didn't give. "Come on, I need a shirt."
The Gatling guns outside were ablaze, and the two dodged the spray of bullets.
"What did I tell you? The only way to get over your fear is to destroy it!" Morgan exclaimed. Feather took on her tigress form and leaped for one of the Gatling guns. Her jaws clamped down on the barrel and she tugged hard to one side. The barrel bent sharply; no longer able to fire its bullets, the gun burst apart.
"We'll never destroy the Institute, not completely."
"The point is not to completely destroy it. The point is to know you can take it on so that you do not need to be afrai-GAAA!"
Something invisible pulled at Morgan's body. She couldn't move. Her body was pulled backward and it...well...was hurt the right word? The point was it caused extreme discomfort.
What in the seven layers on Hell...? Feather whipped around and found herself face to face with the woman, armed with the EMP gun.
"You absolute shit!" Feather roared as she launched herself for the woman's throat.
"When we did that scan...I found something very interesting. A little patch. Let's see if we can get rid of that little patch. You would be very valuable to us, Morgan!" the woman said. Feather attempted to sink her claws deep into the woman's flesh.
"Not today, fucker!"
Feather bit down but it did nothing. The woman sneered.
"Please...we learn from our mistakes."
Guards came from behind and knocked them out.
When they woke up they were chained together to a wall. It was a stockade.
"...So today went well." Feather groaned, twisting her neck until it popped.
"Went down in battle, more or less how we were supposed to go in the first place. At least we crippled them personnel wise." Morgan commented, staring blankly ahead.
"I'm not so sure we have. Also, this is intensely uncomfortable. What's the plan on escape?" Did Feather not realize...?
"There isn't one." Morgan smiled sadly. "Look down." Feather's legs were completely cut off, but the pain was numbed. Morgan herself was being drained of her electricity. She didn't have enough energy to escape. "Sorry, friend...this is it. There are some things...we just cannot win." Morgan laughed weakly. "Something always comes to save the two of us...there's always something...not this time I guess."
"Wh...oh, fuck. Oh, fuck that, fuck that all to hell." A look of desperation crossed her features. "No, this is...this isn't real..."
"Sorry...this is all my fault, isn't it. From the beginning I wanted control...and lost it in that search. I watched people, as they were dying, suddenly show their true selves...I am no different. This is real." Morgan took Feather's hand. "You talked about being truly sorry for what I've done. I get it now. Let's make it up to them. All right?"
Feather shuddered at her companion's touch. Companion? Nah. Friend. She squeezed the cold hand. It was impossible to hide fear in her voice. This wasn't how she wanted to die.
"I don't wanna die."
"You two have been more trouble than you're worth." The woman smirked with a baton in her hand. "The Specter first." Morgan looked ahead and began talking to Feather as the woman counted down.
"Don't worry. It won't hurt. Besides there are many people waiting for you."
"3."
"As for me...I don't know. You can't program a soul."
"2."
"Goodbye friend, and thank you for everything."
"1."
"I wonder..." a weary smile crossed Morgan's face. "Will I dream?"
"Fire!"
The bullets came through the air like so many streaks of light. The moment one impacted Morgan she simply...disintegrated. What was once a mighty electronic warrior was now just so much digital dust. Funny how something so powerful could be rendered so fragile. She was not invincible. She had never been invincible.
Oh gods. That was it. She was gone—Morgan was gone. Feather stared at the empty space beside her in horror. Alone. Laughter pierced the air, painfully familiar. Riot watched from behind the barrel of a gun...a different one than the one he had used to destroy Morgan.
"Oh, this is going to feel good. Better even than the time I made you mine!" he cackled.
A gunshot rang out in the stockade, echoing off the stone walls. Feather fell on her side, screaming. A hole had opened up in her gut; the flesh over her stomach was turning a sickly blue.
"How do you like that, my dear? Silver bullets, bade just for you."
"Fuck you." she hissed through clenched teeth.
"Oh, I would love to, but sadly, that isn't in your future." he replied. He took another shot.
Morgan blood. More screams. Her ribcage was on fire. The agony was more than she could bear. Riot watched, a smug smile on his face, as he aimed down the barrel. A third shot and the screams stopped. The wall behind Feather's sagged body had an enormous stain now as chunks of flesh dripped down. The back of Feather's head had vanished. A neat little hole in her forehead marked the entry wound.
"Right, so. Let's send that tape to the Lyoko Warriors, yeah?"
Hey, so, if anyone draws really good cover art for this story I will put it as the cover art and advertise you.
I hope you enjoyed the story, please comment!