PhaHks

by GVBW

SUMMARY: MATURE! M/O M/S. Mulder is abducted - for real - and returned eight years later.

2. Chapter 2

PhaHks Series

by GenieVB

"Hey!" PhaHks shouted, the word echoing as he wandered through the high stone

corridors and enormous rooms, rarely got mixed up now, not having to retrace his

steps. He searched farther, deeper.

Doors but no exits. Nothing he could open. Or smash through either and proved it

on occasion by dislocating a shoulder.

The rooms almost without exception were bare of furniture. Not a stick. But they

were humid and pleasantly cool against his bare skin. He walked barefoot. Other

than running, exploring was his only pastime.

"Am I the only one here?" Heard his own voice speak back to him off the

beautifully grained stone blocks of every shape fitted together so perfectly,

like a jigsaw puzzle. Even the floor was stone though polished to a glassy

smooth shine. Like marble.

Each time he awoke in this place it sent his heart racing.

He hadn't seen Vampira for days. A servant would appear twice daily, leave food

and vanish.

No one answered his shouts. The "M'Lady", how Doctor Ears referred to Bitch, was

nowhere to be found. He stopped and listened. Not even a hum. Nothing.

After countless corridors and rooms produced no people, he felt a growing sense

of panic. Tried to stifle it by shouting louder. No one appeared and that was

worrisome, though he wasn't sure why exactly. But he needed to see someone, just

so their presence would underline that he wasn't alive in purgatory.

He'd been drugged, strapped down, had his arm broken.

And his hand.

Been zapped with some kind of cutting edge laser gun.

Had his ribs broken.

All thanks to her. It was turning out to be quite a relationship.

But she was the only one with whom he had any connection in this insane reality.

The only constant in between drug induced sleeps and disoriented awakenings.

Thus far, that constant had held his fear at bay.

She was like Scary Auntie Vera and he was a little kid scared of monsters in the

dark. Hating her, frightened of her but dependant on her too.

It was sick.

Right now, though, he needed to know he hadn't dreamed her up.

Ashamed of his frailty, he just needed to see someone, hear them speak his

name.

He was about to yell again when she appeared so suddenly from around a corner,

he thought maybe he was hallucinating. She wasn't there. Then she was.

It was nerve-wracking.

"PhaHks." she said, having heard his shouts over the mansions's monitoring

system and locating him by scanner. No visuals here. She wouldn't allow it. This

was her family home.

"Must you shout in my house?"

The anxious tension in his face, upon seeing her, eased. "I - I thought," he

answered finally, "I thought I was -"

"What?"

"I thought I was the only one here."

"Clearly you are not. A meal has been prepared. Come." She walked back the way

she had come, not bothering to check if he was following her. Evidently she

expected him to.

And he did.

It was a small table in a small room adjoining a larger one. No furniture was

present but for the ever present murals. She seemed to have a thing for them.

The table had place settings for two.

"Where's the floor cushions?" He asked sarcastically.

She seated herself. "They can be provided easily enough should you make that

necessary."

He had not sat down. She motioned to the other chair and he seated himself. They

were comfy.

""Docile" it is." he commented, frowning at the weird dishes. They were square

and flat with no edge to hold in stray food juices. He had no idea what material

they were made from. Only shallow spoons had been provided.

When the young female servant brought the food, he understood a little better.

Three dishes were piled with pieces of varying "vegetables" - he guessed - none

of which were soaking in excess water. The fourth dish held pieces of somewhat

familiar grey semi-moist he-didn't-know-what.

She gestured towards this last food. "That is a synthesized high protein

bake-meal peculiar to your physiological needs. We don't require it."

He looked at it dubiously. Sounds irresistible. But he didn't ask who in

particular she meant by the "we".

She helped herself to ample portions of the vegetable dishes and left him to

choose for himself.

He cautiously placed a few pieces of each onto his own plate. Took one heroic

bite of the grossly described protein stuff. It wasn't bad. Tasted almost like

pork. A bit bland.

She watched him nibble at the few vegetables, eating all of two kinds in

earnest, clearly ravenous, saw him frown at the taste of the third, leaving it

on the plate untouched, but she was satisfied that he was finally eating.

When he made no move for more once his plate was empty, she spoke. "PhaHks, you

are thinner each time I look at you. Surely you must be hungrier than that?"

"I just haven't had my mind on food lately." In truth, the food was okay but

he'd had his heart set on Chinese.

She understood she thought. "I have no intention of seeing you faint from hunger

at my table and ruining my repast." She reached over and placed another slice of

the protein meal onto his plate. "You need to eat or you will grow ill."

"Why do you care?" His eyes challenged her.

She wiped her mouth. "What has happened to you, PhaHks, is unfortunate. But I am

not the one who caused it."

"Who did then?"

"Those responsible are dead."

"And what is it that's happened to me?"

Could he absorb such start truth? she wondered. Primitive human being, sitting

in a chair crafted by non-human hands. He was five centuries beyond his own.

Difficult to conceive let alone accept.

His mind, no matter intelligent and open to new truths, might never accept it.

Slowly. "What do you recall - what is the last thing you remember about your

home?"

He responded without having to think, "I was driving home to.." he swallowed as

the memory hit. "-to Chilmark, to my mothers. I stopped for a breather, climbed

a small road-side hill. It smelled good." He choked on a piece of protein

hell-bread, his voice trembled. "It was nice."

"And then?" she encouraged. Slow is better. Safer - for him.

He tossed the bread down on his plate. "And then I was puking up my guts in a

black room surrounded by hairy bodies, my own shit and generally losing it."

She almost winced at the harshness in his voice. His words painfully sliced the

air, arcing between them, causing a separation of perpetrator and victim.

She felt his carefully squelched demon memories which he could not yet look at.

Knew them.

"And now you want to know where you are and who I am. What I am."

Saw him look down at his strange plate of food remnants he didn't recognize, at

the walls made of foreign stone, at her and her yellow skin. Her other-worldly

clothing, her upswept eyebrows and tipped ears, knowing them to be real.

"Now that you ask, no. No, I don't think I really want to know, actually."

"But you have another question."

"Yeah. I'd like to know one thing."

"What?"

"When are you taking me back?"

There was no hope in his eyes, she saw. But she would tell him. Could he handle

the truth? A lie would be pointless since time would then prove her a liar.

"That is not feasible."

Too blunt when she saw his eyes panic though he did not move.

"I am sorry." she added.

He got up to leave the table, waited for her nod of permission which she quickly

gave.

He spoke quietly, whispered it, "Figured as much." Carefully said words so as

not to fold up and scream.

"Where are you going?" she asked him.

He wanted her to never ask anything again. Where am I going??

"I need to think." he said.

"About what?"

Jesus! He looked at the remainders of the meal and not at her: his future.

"I just need some time alone." he lied as his mind turned over the possible ways

he could kick his own bucket. But he needed a tool, a stick, a rope.

Knowing his quarters were empty of anything sharp, pointed or useful for

self-garotting, he wanted to go for a walk and see what he could find. He rolled

the thought of suicide around in his mind. Tried it on for size.

"I think you have something on your mind, PhaHks. Something unwise."

Not only a life-sucking vampire but a BRAIN-sucking life-sucking vampire!

He closed his eyes against the scrutiny he knew he was under - was always under

- and sighed heavily.

"Let me show you something." She announced and stood, walking away from him

towards another imposing archway into yet another section of her castle/prison.

She turned to see that he was not following her. "PhaHks, come."

He just didn't feel like wagging his tail.

Something on his face must have given away the hole in his chest where his heart

used to be.

She stretched out one elegant yellow hand. "Come with me PhaHks. Please."

Soon they were sitting among trees and bushes and flowers; a garden all in pots.

Big pots, little pots, long low wide rows of grasses and shrubs and all had

opened before him at the top of a set of wide, stone stairs interlaced with wood

carvings.

Stairway to a heavenly place. Compared to his sterile room it was heaven-like.

"I know you are frightened, in shock. Unhappy." she was saying.

He tried to drown out her voice and words and just focus on the warmth of the

sun on his face.

Large, red sun.

It had scared him when he'd first stepped onto that tower top garden and saw a

sun the wrong color. But as long as he didn't look at it, it felt delicious.

He tried to sort out some things as he baked his skin. Address his own

questions.

Like, how to escape and where to. And where is here? These failing to be

resolved - a nice high ledge and a flying leap into the hereafter.

But her words kept interrupting.

"I know you hate me and want to leave. But I think you understand the

impossibility of that. I think you know the reasons why you cannot, even though

you may deny it to yourself. You have been with me for nearly a year, PhaHks. We

must find a way to establish a life for you here."

Heard some of her words.

He wouldn't do that. Not willingly. Fight her every inch of the way. Did she

think he was just going to curl up and mew? Accept her warm bowls and little

bed? Did she think he was her fucking pet?

A year?? A fucking YEAR?? They would think he was dead. The "Missing" file of

him would still be case-open, and...he choked back a lump, swallowed it, ...his

partner, she would never stop looking he didn't think. Not yet anyway.

Finally, in just a few months more, they'd become resigned to him being gone,

and slowly "gone" would transform into "dead" in the backs of their thoughts.

And her life would go on. Probably improve.

He knew he wasn't home anymore. He knew something terrible had happened to him;

something over which he was too terrified to think about; a god awful thing.

He knew but couldn't look.

Anguish was a physical thing. As real as lungs filling with air. As real as a

broken mind.

He knew.

Hard experience.

ROMULAS. SECOND AND THIRD YEARS.

There was no denying it any longer. During the end of that first year she felt

his pull.

A year of PhaHks and she had learned...

Next to nothing.

Physiologically, Rhengar had made great progresses in understanding the species

called Human. The nervous system, the musculature and skeletal structures, brain

processes, respiratory tract, reproductive system, blood work, all carefully

studied and very, very carefully recorded with triple geometric encryptions.

Not even Veexow had the entry codes.

She'd insisted on the precautions. Rhengar kept the codes, she kept the

micro-crystallic that contained all they knew of him.

It was set into the bracelet she had worn all the time during his presence. It

fit perfectly. It looked like it belonged.

But it contained none of the things she most wanted to know: the inner workings

of his mind. Not his brain, the fleshy lump suspended in fluid and membrane,

but those unseen, unrevealed motivations that were still his last secrets.

She knew nothing of his home as it had been and as he had seen it in his time,

or his life there, though she suspected that he would refuse to discuss it under

any circumstances.

Veexow had insight enough to know that it would distress him to do so.

So many truths still kept to himself.

That was the pull.

His undefinable, ethereal, impossible to isolate human gravity had caught her up

in its invisible influence. Deny it she might, he had inch by inch crawled

inside her and settled.

It was tantalizing.

And, she believed, a bit dangerous.

What was he after all, but a blood and bone creature? He was only human.

THE only human. In her time, the last of his species. Left to the Ferengi's, he

would have remained so, a piece of unfortunate history. Unattainable.

Veexow had never been one to resist a challenge and PhaHks had proved to be just

that.

This intelligent, antagonizing, argumentative, stubborn, emotionally exhausting

human had driven her, at times, into rages by his very proximity.

And, by his very proximity, he had taken up residence in her mind and soul and

it was too late to expunge him.

Insanity though it was, she didn't want to.

Not when she saw his brows, down swept like the wings of the Staa'l bird on its

bursting forth from the Plaine, pulled toward surface from the weight of the

briny water.

Not when she saw the eyes beneath them, color fluctuating according body

temperature; blood pressure; mood.

Not when she could taste his scent and had come to crave the flavor of it. Or

felt his cool skin against hers whenever by chance he would brush a hand against

her or she, by design, against him.

Not when she studied the languid movements of his muscled yet fragile structure.

Not when she could feel the quick thrills of her body whenever she caught a

glimpse of his maleness.

He was human. He was weak.

But, against her will, she thought him beautiful.

But she did not take him. Wanted to.

More, however, was her un-Romulan need for him to want her.

With a simple look, he influenced her. With unconscious touch, aroused her

unawares.

This alien captive, this imprisoned curiosity, the human with the hate-filled

eyes, displayed his sexuality only to her. She alone possessed the ability to

see it.

That this should occur infuriated her, however innocent his beauty, however

unconscious his offering.

Taking up his position at her private center, she so wanted him. He displaced

all other need.

Work, duty, Rhengar, were all common, ordinary and vulgar.

Her power was nothing in his orbit.

His control, that held her bound helplessly in agony, existed because she let

it. She'd abdicated to him.

So it was him. Oh, yes, it was greatly him.

But it was her too.

Hadn't she always wanted to see and know the genuine thing?

Be careful what you ask for... Where had she heard that?

Now she thirsted for more than mere knowledge. She wanted touch and time

consuming exploration.

Even in the face of his obvious distaste for her, her hunger remained.

It would be so easy to take by force but her desire did not rest with the merely

physical. She yearned for the spiritual, the puzzling, non-corporeal "heart"

he'd once spoken of. A figurative, undefined word that somehow held the essence

of his humanness. She wanted to go within, be captured in its embrace and

sustained in that most powerful and most frail portion of PhaHks.

That's what she wanted and did not know how to obtain.

She had PhaHks but didn't. Wanted PhaHks yet was thwarted.

Daily seeing him, listening to his voice, loving his strangeness, catching his

scent...

...little touches...

Exquisite torture.

She compensated for her weakness, even as she hated her own actions, by being

remote and cold.

Sometimes, even cruel.

She still had her rages.

"PhaHks." She'd been too busy with another unexpected visit by members of her

endless parade of relatives, though only a two week inconvenience this time, to

have seen him at all. Though by no means had she wanted the forced separation.

Keeping him isolated and concealed in his rooms was his only protection.

Never admitting her secret thoughts even to herself was her only refuge from her

attraction to him, a weakness she despised.

He'd protested this confinement too, as always, with arguments, attempts at

bargaining and finally, shouting, anger, to which she had answered with a

carefully measured blow.

It astonished her that her discipline increasingly did little to discourage his

outbursts. She continued to try, as rarely as was necessary, to domesticate him,

but violence had quickly become a useless countermeasure to his own formidable

will.

She knew, of course, that he hated being locked away. Understood that he had his

own mind and wanted things just as she did, wanted to own himself.

He was sentient, highly intelligent (for a human) and needed more than just four

walls to keep sanity together.

Veexow didn't believe he really understood the danger of his presence being

discovered anywhere, let alone on the Romulan home world.

If found out, he'd be executed without trial or conscience. Her fate might be

nearly as bad.

She felt a pang of guilt at her own deceit toward her superiors, but, once she'd

started on a course, she rarely deviated. And, over the former years and since

she'd found PhaHks and actually began to know and understand this pure-strain,

her own doubts about the Final Judgement had multiplied.

Rhengar was the only one with whom she ever even hinted regarding her true

feelings on the matter. And Rhengar was loyal to his last drop of blood.

As were her trusted family servants.

Here only, sometimes free to roam her mansion, sometimes locked away from sight,

was the humans only sanctuary.

She entered his dwelling room. "PhaHks."

He was lying on his side on his bed, not asleep. He had long ago ceased to rise

in alarm whenever she made an appearance. Not out of trust she knew, but simple

human insolence.

She moved to the bed. Noticed that his bruised cheek had healed up from their

latest battle.

He watched her, not answering but moved his legs aside a little to make room

when she sat down.

"Servant tells me you have not eaten your meals for several days. Is this some

new human physical phase or a test of wills?"

"Not hungry." He seemed uninterested in conversation.

Already she could see the meat melting off him again. After months of building

him up.

"Not hungry? Servant tells me you have also been sleeping inordinately long

hours. It is this "depression" again?"

"Can't imagine why I'd be depressed."

Veexow caught the irony, had learned its nuances.

"The confinement ended five days ago, yet you take no exercise. Are you certain

you're not ill?"

He sat up, since it appeared she wasn't going to make it a short talk. Her

nearness bothered him.

Sighing deeply he shook his head "no" in answer to which part of the question

she was uncertain.

"Your body needs food and exercise, I expect you to indulge in both."

He rested his head in his hands. "I don't - I'm not up to it." Talking was too

much effort.

Veexow sat nearer and took his chin in one efficient hand.

Face, thin and getting thinner. Eyes, red-veined. Parlor, pale.

"What is wrong, PhaHks? You've undergone restricted confinement before and it

has never had this effect on you."

He tried to move his chin away from her touch but she held on. "I cannot allow

you to continue fasting. I cannot allow you to become ill."

"Why the hell not?" he asked, irritated but immediately fell again into his

stupor.

Veexow had welcomed his anger and was disappointed to see it vanish so quickly.

She took his face in both palms, turned his head from side to side, needlessly

examining his sickly appearance. His smell drifted into her nostrils. A sweet

fragrance, she breathed it deeply and felt her body answering.

Being this close to him...

She wanted him.

But the angry, voluble, ready to defy her PhaHks.

The PhaHks who slammed his fists into walls and faced her down again and again.

Who bore her strikes and furiously came back for more. The PhaHks who let her

know by the expression on his bruised face that her blows were a violation and

an insult.

Not this slack-eyed, empty creature.

Yet his presence, only inches, was flippantly pulling her careful control

asunder.

She held his face between her palms longer, until her hands warmed his cheeks.

Longer, until she thought she could feel his blood pumping just below his skin.

Longer, until she was certain she could feel his heart beating.

And longer, until she couldn't let go.

He blinked rapidly, her unusual touch jerking him out of his mental doldrums.

She could see the puzzlement on his features as she held him there, her own face

a foot from his.

The surprise from within his always naked emotions as she leaned closer, her

head tilting, lips lining up with his.

Saw his quiet shock as she pressed her mouth to his and let out a soft sigh when

finally tasting him for the first time.

Sweet, alien mouth.

Then she saw the fear leap into his eyes as she pulled him closer, deepening the

kiss and moaned in her pleasure of him. At his forbidden flavor.

Suddenly he turned even whiter and was pushing away and scrambling back, away

from her touch.

Then across the room. Away from her.

She stood to follow, swept up in the fire of her fierce, Romulan need, a near

uncontrollable force once ignited.

He stiffened as his senses came back to him; the fear in his eyes and the - was

it disgust? - on his face; "Stay away from me."

It was a whisper but his will was screaming.

"I would not have hurt you, PhaHks." She was angry that he'd pulled away but

wanted to salvage her pride and also that tiny spark of trust he'd shown her by

allowing the touch to begin with.

"At least when you're hitting me, I'm safe." He answered.

The cryptic comment confused her for a moment until she realized that his words

crudely echoed her own emotional conundrum.

She too, when she was striking with blows and not lips, felt in control of

herself and him. This other left her open to doubt, danger, pain of soul and of

course rejection which she'd just tasted.

He was feeling similarly vulnerable. Must be.

She moved closer to him, how to repair the damage?

"Don't ever touch me again." He warned, his voice contemptuous. Stricken.

Her anger flared and she went to him, raising the back of her hand. Hesitated.

"Don't touch me, you greasy vampire."

He had said it softly, daring her! Asking, egging her on, to hit him. It would

make both of them feel comfortable again. Put things back in their proper place.

She struck but her blow was half-hearted and although it knocked him to the

floor, he was unharmed.

She let her arm drop to her side.

"Feel better?" he mocked from below, glad things were back to normal.

Veexow searched and realized she felt, curiously, defeated.

She'd given him what he'd asked for. She'd done what he predicted - knew - she

had to do to re- establish her control over him. It made her ever more furious.

And, strangely, aroused at what he had inadvertently also helped her discover.

She needn't strike him anymore.

There were better ways to conquer.

"Get up!" she ordered.

He looked up at her, eyes satisfied with the return of routine mutual hatred.

Allowing him no opportunity to defy her she yanked him to his feet, shoving him

hard back against the bulkhead. Her hands gripped like talons at his elbow

joints, pinning him there.

Her tiny pupils locked onto his wide ones.

Predator to prey.

She studied his rumpled hair, rough, unshaven jaw, throat bobbing in

nervousness. Felt his shallow, labored breathing; little puffs of air on her

cheeks.

Felt her own even respirations. Superior strength. Stronger will.

Her two hands or just one word would grant him a particular pain or a type of

freedom.

Punishment or reprieve.

He used his last offense and spit on her. She removing it from her own face by

rubbing her wetted cheek on his, defeating even that small rebellion. Smiled.

It would be punishment.

Her eyes scanned his flesh, saw through his defenses, peered into his most

secret parts. They travelled passed his throat, down his chest, over his abdomen

and south.

She took her time, silently speaking, unveiling her intent. Allowing him to see

plainly what it was she wanted and that if she only wished it, she could take it

without permission.

It was...ooohhhh...so arousing to know that all that was separating her hands

from his skin was a film-thin layer of cloth.

Which clung to and defined his sex. Shaped itself to his shapes. It folded and

tucked in places she longed to touch, telling him so with a throaty rumble.

Brushing the back of her hand against him, she groaned at her first feel of his

silken shaft.

Taking it in her hand and teased him until he was hard.

So hard.

He gasped when she roughly clamped down her mouth hard on his. Rough and

uncompromising, vicious teeth grating against his lips, hurting him, until he

had no choice but to open. When she felt that surrender, she rewarded him by

pressing even harder, forcing her tongue inside.

Using her body to glue him to the wall, her hands now invaded and pillaged.

Under his shirt, along his chest, up and down his ribbed sides. Inside his

pants, kneading his buttocks as he struggled futilely to shrug her off,

violently cursing her, his only weapon left.

She laughed out loud at him and, her desire for him building, building.

Laughed again when his cursing ceased. Her win.

Then she was at his front, clutching his hardened organ, pumping him, making him

feel pleasure under her cruel handling, until he whimpered.

Ignoring it, she mauled and bit, drawing blood from his lip and neck and chest.

She increased his involuntary thrusts, one hand on his backside, nearly lifting

him off the floor. He was close and she knew it.

She'd brought him kicking and screaming to the edge of his own physical need.

Then she stopped and stepped back. Quickly.

He was shaking, ever so slightly. Trying not to. Looked like he might be sick.

She smiled an Imperial Romulan Commander's smile down on him, content with the

fruits of her campaign.

She had overcome, swarmed through and vanquished him like a vengeful god.

She'd reaffirmed her power to shatter his resolve and re-enslave him or to free

him whenever the will took her.

To prove it, she kissed him again and he didn't move, though this time she kept

her hands at her sides, her body not crushing against him, not touching at all.

Her kiss was tender, gentle. Sweet on his bruised and swollen lips. She tasted

his blood. Salty. Metallic. Earthy.

He was shaking and weak. She ended it because the destruction was sufficient.

Leaving him to finish himself off, if emotion and energy would allow, she passed

through the door that slid aside to allow her egress.

Campaign complete. Retreat.

--

PhaHks had the shakes for a long time after she was gone.

The revelation of what he was to her and of what little she had to do to take

it, left him reeling and SICK!

He spent the next few minutes throwing up stomach fluid all over the polished

floor.

Finally, his strength returned and he got to his feet. Had to get away. One way

or another.

Tonight he'd go exploring again, since his door was left open all the time now.

He'd find a way out or make one. A weapon of some kind maybe.

He'd explored the whole place before but he was more determined than ever now

for lots of new reasons. Had to succeed this time.

HAD to.

Grandpa Mulder'd died at sixty-two. Heart attack.

Uncle Samuel at sixty-four. Cardiovascular disease.

Dad dead (albeit from a gunshot to the head), while pushing sixty. But hadn't he

been taking medicine? He'd looked bad that night. Probably heart.

Stressed out herd - the Mulders.

He could look forward to twenty-five years, maybe.

If he was good.

If he didn't eat the wrong things (what a laugh), and he got eight hours a

night, and he didn't strain his ticker by over-doing the exercise.

The ol' pump was at a hundred and ten percent right then, kicking at his

chest-wall like a hoof.

Still he ran.

Not far enough. Not fast enough.

Calf and thigh muscles would cramp and spasm and make him stumble. He'd just get

up and start again. Reckless. Uncaring.

A taste of freedom is all that had gone through his mind when he'd awakened in

the middle of the night and done his wandering. Hellbitch had unlocked his door,

so...that was signal for him to go where he pleased whenever he damn well

pleased it.

She hadn't said anything about middle of the night haunts but - screw it - this

playing "keeper-of-the- specimen" thing wasn't gonna go by the book if he had

anything to say about it. Not by her rules.

Not by a long shot.

Besides, being the sole exhibit consisted mainly of boredom. And her unwanted

fire-eaten eyes.

Stomach rotting NUH!-thing to do in between visits from Hellbitch.

So when he spotted the little servant girl furtively tapping in whatever code or

inscription it was on the keypad to the door that he knew led outside!, he'd -

oh! - so carefully and - oh! - so quietly followed her through it.

That huge metal panel had silently slide aside, ushering in all that dry, cool

early dawn air and, taking his body in its tendrils, carried him out.

Unfortunately, she'd seen him.

Then he'd seen her.

Sunshine. His nickname for her toothy grin.

She'd been transferred to "Kitchen Duty" and they hadn't exchanged grins for

months.

When she'd been assigned to clean his rooms, he had expressed surprise at the

tiny little thing. She couldn't have been more than twelve.

The little cleaning girl entered, carrying her utilities. When she saw him,

she turned to go because she had never seen the human before. Usually, he was

running at this time of morning.

"I won't bite." he said to her, knowing she probably wouldn't understand and

leave anyway.

But she didn't.

"I'm sorry. I guess I'm kind of in the way, just didn't feel like going for a

run this morning." Didn't feel much of anything.

PhaHks lay down on his bed and snoozed as she cleaned around him.

The next day, when she came, she brought her little pet. Something that looked

like a very fat ferret road around on her boney shoulder while she went about

her duties.

Soon it became his habit to be sure he was there when she came. She brought her

little pet sometimes, sometimes not. But always bright eyes and a fresh face.

One day when she came, he slowly worked his way to where she was sweeping, her

little pet balanced perfectly on her thin frame, digging in its claws for

support. She didn't seem to mind.

When he reached out a hand to pet the creature, it squeaked in alarm but then

stretched out its head for more. The animal's cry had made her turn in alarm

too, but when she saw his obvious admiration for her best friend, she quickly

relaxed, smiling at her happy pet.

Then smiled at him, revealing a mouth full of crooked teeth.

PhaHks' heart broke, not because it made her ugly, on the contrary, it endeared

her to him more, but because for all the technology that must exist in

Hellbitch's world, no one seemed to think it necessary to fix them for her.

But her smile was unabashed, wide as the horizon, and shined like the sun.

Sunshine he began to call her.

Every day she came each day bringing a smile, and a laugh at "Fromooohhh.", her

name for the fuzzy thing. PhaHks re-christened it "Fat Fromoh", because of its

waddling girth.

And she brought him a smile. It felt good to see them and even better giving

them back, his 'smile muscles' twitching from misuse.

Occasionally, she'd babble out a long sentence in her gibberish language and

he'd answer in his which baffled her.

Small talk that neither understood creating a bond neither expected. A little

bud of joy took root in him and that, too, was unexpected.

Forty minutes a day of watering the bud. That was what her visits did to him.

Veexow came one morning which was not her habit and found him weaving something

out of the strips he'd made from a shirt he'd obviously sacrificed for whatever

was his project.

"What are you doing, PhaHks?"

"Making something."

"Making what?"

"It's for the cleaning girl."

Veexow sighed. Always it was five of her questions to gain one complete answer

of his. "And what are you making for the cleaning servant?"

"A mat for her shoulder. Something to protect it from her pets claws."

"Why?"

""Why"? Haven't you seen the scratches? She loves that animal."

Veexow looked at it. "No, I hadn't."

"Well, I did and this will keep her from getting more scars. Doesn't she have

a mother?"

"No, I believe she was raised as a house servant from birth."

Strange answer. "House servants have no mothers?"

"Sometimes they do. This one doesn't."

PhaHks finished his handiwork as they spoke, tying the ends together and tucking

them out of sight in the weave.

Veexow approved of the workmanship. Neat and clean if basic. "Why did you not

ask me for something to give to her?"

"Because then it won't really be a gift from me. I want to give her something

I made myself."

Veexow felt a tiny charge of annoyance at his indulgence of the girl. It would

not do to spoil a servant of her caste.

PhaHks had never shown the inclination to create anything for her. And she

sensed he did not want her around when time came for the bestowal.

"When you are finished with this, join me for the midday meal." Not a request.

He nodded once. The reminder was unnecessary as they almost always ate together.

When Sunshine arrived PhaHks presented his gift to her.

She smiled a neglected twelve year olds smile. Surprised and shy, then delighted

and possessive. She even let him help her strap it on.

PhaHks had made Sunshine special for a day.

She took him by surprise with an impulsive hug.

PhaHks was almost too moved to respond, then gave her a warm squeeze. It was the

best, best reward he could have received for so little time and effort. It was

wonderful.

She was his morning light and her smile was a warmth he carried inside each day.

"Where's Sunshine?"

"What?"

"The Cleaning Girl, she didn't come today, is she sick?" PhaHks tried to keep

the worry out of his voice and doing a poor job of it.

"No."

"Then where is she?"

Veexow did not look at him, but continued to eat.

"She cleans in another section of the estate now."

PhaHks' heart raced from worry to horror to devastation without the slightest

sign of their passage across his face.

"When did this happen?"

"Yesterday."

The day after he had given Sunshine a second gift, a collar and leash for her

pet.

"You did it on purpose, didn't you?" You cold, heartless bitch!

"I often rotate servants, PhaHks."

"Interesting that you rotated her away from me. She never did anything to you."

He had never mentioned the hug to her, it had been his and Sunshine's happy

secret. Hellbitch got his brain and his soul but not his affection. That was for

Sunshine and no one else.

"Where in the estate? Where is she working in the house?"

"I had her rotated to kitchen duty."

Kitchen duty! Hot, laborious, grinding work that would run a skinny baby girl to

bones.

"Where is that?"

"It is off limits to any but kitchen servants, PhaHks."

I'm not surprised you goddamn FUCKING WHORE! It took all of his control not to

wrap his fingers around her aristocratic throat.

"You had no reason. You have no right to keep her from me."

"I have no right?!" One clawed appendage gripped his wrist painfully. "I do

exactly as I please with my servants and I'll do exactly as I please with YOU!"

PhaHks was murderous and yet he did nothing. COULD do nothing.

The evil Bitch shuffled everyone's lives like a deck of cards.

"Control. It's a drug for you, isn't it?"

"It is about keeping things in their proper place." She let his arm go.

"And you can't stand it when someone else has it."

"Is that what you believe?" Her tone was bored, but PhaHks could tell he was

getting under her skin.

"I'm talking about a cohesive, bonafide connection with another. You don't know

what it's like, do you?"

"I weary of this, PhaHks."

He stood without her permission.

"Sit down!"

"Go to hell."

Now Sunshine was older, taller. Fourteen? He hadn't known her actual age then,

but had estimated it at about twelve.

When she'd turned around to re-close and lock the big, metal door, she

recognized him. Smiled at first and then seeing what it was he intended, her

smile dropped nervously.

The alarm button was right there beside the lock-out panel. Her hand had been

closing in when she'd spotted him. Now it hovered there, inches from the

buttons, not moving.

He could see her indecision. Wanting to help him, a friend (at least he supposed

they were still friends), and wanting to do the one thing that would keep her

out of trouble.

But he had to try. "Don't Sunshine."

She frowned, so wanting to be able to do both things, he figured, by the

struggle on her face.

She had to push the alarm of course. Hellbitch would not go lightly on her if

she were ever found out.

But Sunshine seemed sad that she had to do it.

He loved her for that.

But he had to get out. Either that or go crazy.

So he'd hit her.

Just enough to knock her out, but his hand still hurt from it. She had an iron

hard head! He checked her breathing to make sure she was okay. His act would

protect her.

Poor Sunshine. Probably sneaking out to rendezvous with some pimpled sprout, out

and away from the sound monitoring system. The whole goddamn place was wired.

What a shitty life for her.

Despite the teeth, she'd grown into a pretty young woman. No wonder the boys

were sneaking her around. But tonight, some green skinned, blue-balled Romeo was

gonna have to settle for a date with his hand.

Hellbitch would probably have him beaten all the way to the morgue for this.

She'd most likely perform the autopsy herself, before he was actually dead.

So once he'd started running, he figured it'd be a good idea to just keep on

going.

He imagined the Bitch barking and screaming at her gargoyles right now. "FLY,

FLYYYYYY...!"

This flight had been impulse. Where was he going to GO, really?

Once that cage door had swung free, though, he just had to do it. Free for a

while of locked doors and unwanted drugs. No more chained up mind and beaten up

will.

Just for a while.

Cared less about the consequences of his actions than about how good the action

felt.

Kind of like the day he lost his virginity.

PhaHks ran until he HAD to stop. Until he, really and for good, fell.

This time, his body would not obey his command to roll over, push up, get up,

run, run, run!

He nearly fainted from the pain that told him he'd come near to running himself

to death.

Coronary infarction and some decent shuteye.

But his reptilian brain ordered otherwise. Just so far and no farther. He wept

dry-eyed at his failure.

"Wonderful, the persistence of life..."

Words that came to him with eyes shut tight against the red sun filtering in

ribbons down between tree branches. Eyes shut so tight he saw blood.

Black words against red fire.

Thirsty suddenly.

Not hungry. Not for Hellbitch's protein husks or veggie-surprise. He'd been

puking up most of it anyway in his own private little commode.

If he was going to get skinny, fuck her. If he showed bad manners by vomiting

din-din all over her bad taste flatware - bite cock!

Her problems.

On the other hand if he died out here, all cozy in the sun: no more problems at

all.

It sounded like a good deal and he crawled over to the base of a huge leaf laden

tree, curling up on its spongy bed of dead fall.

He was asleep in minutes.

PhaHks had run.

Not escaped of course, he'd simply taken it upon himself to test her. He seemed

to have the need to continually be pushing at her boundaries and stretching her

bands until she snapped.

If he had returned on his own, tired and hungry, she would have been angry and

would still have punished him for the infraction, but not harshly.

But he hadn't and now, after scanning the surrounding hills and locating his

position (which was not moving), she was more concerned than angry, though she

was still displeased.

He would not survive the Romulan night, when temperatures plummeted into single

digits. Human PhaHks did not know that.

Impressive, however, how far he had run.

During the last four months, her patience for his blatant defiance of her rules

had broadened. His unpredictability and illogic was annoying but fascinating and

granted her much material to think about regarding his species.

Puzzling creature.

Disobedient (even when living conditions were wholly provided and beneficial).

Rebellious. Contradictory. Infuriating.

But beautiful in that alien way of his.

Colored irises. Salt-water tears.

Emotionalism par none.

He had access to her private rooftop gardens where he spent a great deal of his

time. She supposed he went there to get away from curious eyes and, naturally,

to enjoy the greenery.

Whenever he wasn't sneaking down to her private spring.

One of the most interesting things she'd learned of the human PhaHks she had

learned there...

...that he was not merely a combative human; the one living representative of

his species; a interesting study of contradictions.

That he was not only a poor innocent condemned to live out his life under the

curious eyes of an alien race.

Though she had seen him before in various states of undress, watching Rhengar

examine him and learn of muscle/fat ratios, nerve responses, cardio-pulmonary

rhythms and a host of other mysteries. All learned and catalogued. All before

she had ever been conscious, really, of his masculinity.

Way back in those first few months. Before her spurred violation of him.

The time came, at her mineral spring to where he had snuck down, where she began

really seeing him.

That was the time a mystery choose to unveil itself.

That night, out from the cleansing steam of a private pool, under subtle light

and moisture.

She learned.

PhaHks was exceptionally MALE.

He heard trickling.

Somewhere water was running.

He'd explored the entire mansion and had found nothing new. So had sat down on

the edge of an opaque window, dark because it was night. The thick glass felt

cool.

Cold. Inside it was warm.

Warmer than he felt, more substantial than he felt. More real than he was.

Then the trickle of water, very faint. He looked around, the dim lanterns (lit

with something other than oil or gas, there was no flame), cast just enough

light to avoid tripping.

He walked one way and when the trickling sound ceased, he turned, quickly

walking the other. Caught it again. Followed it to what he thought was the end

of the long hall, one he had walked down many times.

Funny how sounds seemed to travel farther at night.

When he came to the end, he noticed a small opening. One which would have been

very difficult to see during the day. But night shadows were different and it

was plain.

Where the decorative masonries wall appeared to end and join at ninety degrees

with its counterpart, it actually only blended in. It was a false front. In what

would have been the closed off corner was actually two feet of receding space.

Enough for one person to pass.

PhaHks stepped behind it into a much darker passage that sloped down. One feeble

light lit it up for only a few meters ahead, beyond was blackness.

The trickling was distinct.

In behind the wall, the sound of water became clear and inviting. He could feel

instantly the change of humidity against his skin.

Spiraling, stone-carved steps descended into near darkness but for the feeble

illumination of the one lantern. Damp and cooling the soles of his feet, he

followed them.

A staircase behind a wall leading to an underground swimming pool, he thought.

The place seemed to have been constructed without much consideration to

convenience.

He grudgingly recalled Hellbitch telling him that it was her ancestral home and

had been added to countless times.

The pool itself lay in shadow. And it was a well, the water in the darkness as

black as ink. Two more tiny lanterns were all that kept the shadows from

swallowing up him and everything he saw.

But the thick moisture left a sweet sulphured flavor on his tongue.

PhaHks shed his clothes and stepped onto the final stair, slippery under his

feet, when something broke the surface. He in full view of the water and

whatever was emerging was half hidden in shadow.

It froze him for a moment, the shape of it. It rose and exhaled, spraying tiny

droplets into the yellow glow of the lantern.

From vivacious curves steam rose, ascending to God.

Neurons coalesced, struggling to connect archives fallen into disuse, shooting a

unsolicited ping to his groin.

She had arrived ahead of him. Someone who obviously made it their habit to be

here. He could see the shed clothing and the folded blanket laying at the edge

of the natural rock-hewn spring.

Shoulders glistened in the half-light as long black hair was swept back from

sharp features.

One smooth boost with hands on the pool edge and she'd propelled herself out of

the water, standing naked, breasts bouncing under the ministrations of drying

herself off.

PhaHks retreated up the stairs like he had been speared.

As quietly and quickly as his legs could carry him, he sought refuge in his

room.

Didn't want to think about what he'd just witnessed. Did NOT want to acknowledge

how his body had reacted at seeing curving moist flesh and round, hard-nippled

breasts.

Laying down, he pressed fists into his genitals until it hurt. Didn't want to

feel his penis hardening at the sight of a navel and of the dark, softly

carpeted folds below, covering the inner, inviting flesh of a wet, waiting

vagina...

Until that moment, Hellbitch had been a safe image of ugliness and pain.

A Thing to despise.

A power hungry, sadistic, controlling fucking Icon. Satan's little

mistress-bitch. Macaulay's wet dream.

Now his deceitful, Judas Iscariot had hardened, trying to convince him

otherwise.

It stated that, (ejaculating to emphasize the discovery),

...she was female. A Woman.

When next PhaHks' eyes opened, he was laying on his bed.

Hellbitch was there, watching him. From across the room in a padded chair, hands

resting on the arms. Queen Feline on her throne.

Cat's caught the rodent and what was mousie going to do now?

That is how she watched him. With those patronizing "I win" eyes.

PhaHks felt like a gerbil thrust back into his cage with nothing left to do but

run the squeaky wheel.

He was losing his mind.

When he tried to sit up, he couldn't.

Then felt his nakedness beneath the thin sheet. "Fulgh." His speech was slurred

and the swearword came out like sludge.

"You would have died out there, you know." she announced.

He shook his head once. Lay back. Gave himself a rest from the eyestrain of

staring at her from the horizontal.

"Howth grrl?"

"She has a headache but is otherwise unharmed." He seemed relieved.

Veexow frowned. "You strike her down, then ask after her well being. What a

contradictory creature you are."

"Sh'uz t'do m' rmm nice."

"Oh?"

"Tha'zall. Sh' dint help me'nite. Y' don'av t' punizher."

That angered Hellbitch. He could tell.

"Everyone has a place, PhaHks. Everyone has restrictions."

"So 'v'notssed."

"I refuse to play Battle of Wills with you."

"But arenn ye' gon' punssh me?" That was better.

"Is that what you expect?" She rose and walked over until she was hovering over

his face.

"Yrr p'ticlrr brnnd, yeh'." Her face floated above him like a grotesque

Halloween mask. She'd completely stoned him on something.

Junkie-Madam and her goddamn drugs.

The jack-o-lantern mouth moved in slow motion. His head swam.

"I think you have punished yourself enough, PhaHks. The reason you cannot move

is because there are tiny bacteria multiplying in your bloodstream as we speak.

From there hey enter the cells of the central nervous system and paralyze the

victim. The doctor believes you will recover, he has already treated you for

it."

She seemed pleased to report the next bit, he thought.

"But it will be several days until you can sit up or eat or walk or relieve

yourself without assistance."

And the next...

"You see, you made the mistake of falling asleep upon a bed of dead fall over a

nest of burrowing Reed worms. Their bodies carry this particular bacterium. It

is, by the way, deadly to us. You are fortunate you are human, this time it has

saved you, you seem to have a natural defense against it. The worms only come

forth during the cool of the night. Of course, by the time we had arrived, they

had covered you."

PhaHks felt even more like shit now, from visions of being swarmed alive by

worm-lice.

Woman or not. Big tits or not, he wanted to knock that victory smug off of her

vampire fucking face.

"I knew you would try to escape once I allowed you access to my home. But I had

not supposed your human ignorance would get you into trouble so quickly."

Condescending cunt.

"When you are well, we shall try once again to get along. From my observation,

you really have no choice."

Stir crazy.

Two weeks locked away in his own "dwelling". One room, ten by ten meters and no

windows to ease the boredom. No views of sky, lake or land to keep him sane.

Only "activities" during his recuperation.

A computer unit programmed with hundreds of tests which she ordered him to do

and which, for that very reason, he didn't.

At least not for the whole first week of being locked in his one room and denied

access to her the Great Hall and basement pool.

Then, after his brain screamed at him for a whole day to provide it with

entertainment, he sat down and started to do the bitch's tests. Hundreds of

mathematical, spacial, emotional response and logic questions. Some he could

answer, some he couldn't. Some he didn't.

Some he answered dementedly, just to see if he could piss her off.

For days he did the hated quizzes until his head pounded. But M'Lady, after her

initial visit to inform him of his confinement during which time she would be

occupied with "unavoidable visitors", and "since he was healing anyway",

informed him he would be unable to roam about the mansion and his meals would be

brought to him in his room.

His prison had become temporarily smaller.

Two weeks and he was ready to climb the walls.

This day he'd spent pacing, itching to crush to bits the test unit if he'd had

the strength to. He'd done all the tests over and over until he was fairly

confident he could puke the answers up alphabetically.

When his evening meal arrived he welcomed, not the food, but the distraction of

seeing another living creature, however brief.

The servant girl, a new one, entered and he retreated to the other side of the

room.

Sitting on his bed, he'd watch her, look away. She'd stare, look away, stare

again. But today the distraction made him feel tired and shitty.

And fucking depressed. He could be losing his mind and not know it but since

there was no one he could ask who would know one way or another, he let the

thought slip away like so many others.

Visitors. That's what his thoughts felt like, little brain ghosts that floated

around in his head, moaning their protests and then fading away.

He was fading away maybe.

He rubbed his eyes and face, felt wetness slide from the corners of his eyes to

wash his face in salt.

The servant said something in her incomprehensible tongue and he opened his

eyes, startled to see her standing before him.

Stared up at her. She was standing a foot in front of him, gesturing back

towards his table. He looked and saw the new tray sitting beside the old one

still piled with untouched, drying out food.

He guessed she was asking about that. He shook his head.

"No."

Had no idea if she understood but she made no expression one way or the other.

During his confinement, he'd eaten his meals obediently but the shit hurt going

down and burned when it got there. Daily he ate it until he could choke it down

no more. Now it was pulpy cubes and dry flavorless husks that, hungry as he

might be, turned his stomach over.

It smelled of them and its taste was prison.

The servant girl said something else and he shook his head to let her know he

didn't understand her, sighing heavily and rubbing his gritty eyeballs. What he

needed was conversation and it was typical of HellBitch to send a servant who

couldn't speak a letter of English.

Without warning, the girl reached out and touched his face, the wetness that

still hadn't evaporated.

He froze.

Her curious hand moved to his hair which had regained its shine now that he'd

returned to near his normal weight.

She touched him the way a small child would want to touch a fluffy dog if she

had never seen one. What does it feel like? Stretch out fingers. Stroke.

It felt nice, that small contact. She couldn't have been more than twenty. Not

pretty.

Not Sunshine.

He didn't think she was making a try for him because there was nothing sexual in

her touch. And, though he'd had no woman in longer than he could remember, he

didn't want her. Not because he didn't feel the need, in fact his penis stirred

under this unexpected gesture, but because she was too foreign looking.

Too alien.

He hoped, however, she'd continue for a moment or two. In his intolerable

existence, it was a tiny reprieve. To have fingers gently raking his hair was

transfusing the numbness.

She leaned closer to see his eyes. Her blank, ugly face registered the slightest

surprise at the colors she found in them.

The servant girl didn't have time to even turn around when the door to his

chambers slid aside, revealing two beefy guards and HellBitch behind them,

barking something in her impossible speech.

Without a hitch in step, the two guards unceremoniously grabbed the servant girl

and began half-carrying, half dragging her to the door.

He felt her touch leave and it hurt. A cold severing.

"Huh, wha...?" he looked at Veexow's furious expression as she turned on him.

"Silence!" then she barked something to the guards who hurried their pace out

the door.

By the girls cries and the quick exit of the guards PhaHks didn't need to

understand the language to recognize the implications of what was happening.

"Wait! She didn't DO anything." He stood and went to Veexow, careful to stay out

of striking distance.

Veexow was venomous. "She was to serve meals. That was all."

Her anger was a shock. "All she did was touch me. She was just...curious!" He

tried to explain.

"She knew the rules and disobeyed. And she is older than you, PhaHks." Veexow

turned to leave but he quickly placed himself between her and the door, facing

her down.

"What are they going to do to her?"

"She will be punished of course. Executed." Stepping around him.

"WHAT?!" He snatched at her arm. "No - why? - please, PLEASE don't do this.

She was just trying to communicate, she didn't mean anything. It was nice and-"

It had been the only emotional and physical gesture of kindness he'd received in

an eternity. It had been a precious gift and they were going to destroy the

offer-er.

He knew he was begging but had nothing else to try.

"-nothing would have happened!"

At his raised voice, unsolicited words and daring to touch her so roughly,

Veexow, face twisted in rage, backhanded him. Not hard enough to kill but plenty

hard enough to do damage. He spun around from the force of it before landing on

his hands and knees.

One minute he was having a conversation - of sorts - the next he was on the

floor trying to shake the ringing out of his ears and figure out which part of

his head hurt worse, his brain or the skull that encased it.

As quickly as her anger had arisen, it vanished seeing him on the floor and

gasping in pain. She moved to help him to his feet but he forcefully shook her

off, pulling away.

Staggering to his feet, he belligerently faced her, unwavering. She could see

the purple bruise already darkening his cheekbone and the blood seeping from the

cut above it where her ring had caught.

"I did not use my full strength PhaHks. You will not speak of this. You will not

be leaving this room until I decide it's time."

His voice shook. "You vindictive bitch!"

Without a twitch of warning, she struck him again, lightening fast.

Hard.

On his other cheek.

This time he did not get back up, just stayed down and gulped for air, holding

his hand to the side of his head. He glared up at her, savoring his growing

hatred which was quickly becoming his constant companion.

""Trust you"??" he mocked, "What a goddamn joke!"

"You WILL learn to cooperate!" She yelled.

"Or you'll what? - hit me? You'll sure as fuck never get me to bend my knee any

other way." He coughed. Spit blood.

Her eyes narrowed. "Eat, PhaHks, you're getting thin again. Eat or I will have

it liquified and poured down your throat." She moved to exit without a backward

glance.

"You're FUCKING insane!" he screamed after her retreating back.

PhaHks got himself up off the floor. His jaw ached and he wondered if it was

broken. Moved it around. Still worked.

Hellbitch had been more than just angry at the servant for breaking a rule,

she'd been angry that the girl had touched him, and furious with him for

allowing it.

The blows had been his punishment.

He was dizzy and went to lie down. Sleep it off.

But the image of what that HellBitch was going to have done to that young

girl...

Maybe she wouldn't kill her. Maybe it was all just emotional manipulation to -

what? - get him to be more docile (Hellbitch's favorite word)? Hell of a way to

gain obedience.

It wouldn't work either.

He was used to it.

Thirty years ago, he'd logged in plenty of it. A decade of it.

In the lessons of painful humiliation, Hellbitch had nothing on dear, old dad.

He had taken it to a fine art. A regular goddamn professor.

Hellbitch didn't realize he could slip into the victim role like it was a used

coat and then just shrug it off again. Get knocked down, get up, spit blood.

Spit back.

Practice makes perfect.

Kill someone because they were curious? Kill them for lingering? Kill them for

being young and inexperienced?

Those were the choices.

Something had lit her fuse and she had come through that door prepared to

explode.

Why?

And her face had changed during that two minutes. From tightly reined-in

indignation to absolute-

-jealousy!

Her twisted rage at his comments, had said it all. He'd just missed it at first

because they were dragging that screaming girl away to be guillotined or

whatever the hell it was they did here.

He was Hellbitch's pet and hands off?

Christ, that's why she'd had Sunshine taken away.

If that's what he was...

It was a bit of insight that might prove useful though in what capacity he

wasn't sure. For a man out of options it was maybe an opportunity.

He'd do a bit of manipulating himself if his theory proved true.

If he was correct and played it right, maybe it could get him home.

--

Only sometimes did Veexow declare the pool off limits.

The rainy season that would come twice yearly to wash torrents of dark waters

into the Rhemu valley.

The pool, being as it was fed from the filtered streams of the nearby hills,

would systematically rise and fall. The basin would become murky and violent as

the flooding advanced and receded.

The feeders, the inlets and outlets, that normally flowed with gentleness out of

regard for its fleshy visitors, would rush in. The brown, icy sludge sucked out

again along the deep underground flutes. Any creature clumsy enough to fall in,

would be taken away with it to die.

So one night, as PhaHks wandered the endless passages of Hellbitch's mansion, he

was surprised to see his little servant girl, the one he had cold-cocked in his

failed escape attempt. And it still hurt to think about it.

Another did his rooms now, an older woman who ignored him completely if he

happened to be there.

He'd gone through two servants so far. One Hellbitch had had murdered for the

terrible crime of curiosity. And the other was Sunshine.

Disappearing through the narrow entry to the underground cavern...

...there she was, and she was almost grown up. Even taller than the night of his

botched escape into the countryside.

Still a skinny little thing but filled out. Her face was no longer cast in the

impishness of girlishness. It now held the expression of young womanhood with

its questioning exploration.

And seeing her brought it even more home to him how much he had missed her smile

every morning.

Her giggles and her little orphan Annie ways that just made his heart ache with

compassion. And joy too, for her ability to have been so purely child-like in

her bleak existence.

Protectiveness. That's what he felt too. Still.

His little Sunshine.

She was going to the pool, nothing else was down there, and he had a pretty good

idea why.

More than curiosity compelled him to follow. He followed at a good distance. Did

not want to give Hellbitch any reasons for punishing her.

He was lonely, wanted to speak to her, but no sweet kid was going to literally

lose her head over his mistakes ever again.

Quietly she descended, unaware of her tag.

He heard voices and sat near the bottom of the stairs to listen.

Sure enough, a young male voice mixed with Sunshine's and sounds of clothing

being shed and fumbling in the dark.

There was no lantern lit and the blackness was nearly impenetrable. He could see

shapes and that was all. How they were managing in near total dark he didn't

know but evidently they were as sounds of lovemaking replaced breathless

whispers.

Yes, she had grown up.

Flesh slapping flesh and groans of pleasure washed over him, sparking memories

that hurt.

A jerking fist had nothing on real, warm muscled depths, kneading fingers and

sweet tongue. Then he felt ashamed because he was imagining it while

eavesdropping on his little girl.

A cry of surprise followed by a thick splash shook him out of his guilty porn

moment.

The adolescent stud must be showing off.

"OteesaH!" The voice of the male youth trying to yell but not so loudly to

arouse the household and Hellbitch's wrath. PhaHks didn't blame him.

Splashing...

Another splash. Then lots of splashing, hands striking water. A large splash.

The male had dived in.

PhaHks could see nothing.

PhaHks heard nothing for long seconds. Then a surfacing. "Oo-teee-sahhh!" No

answer came from the girl.

PhaHks jumped up from his hiding place and was at the water's edge. The youth

gasped, but didn't follow when PhaHks dived in.

Her name was OteesaH. Pretty. Like sunshine.

Under the silty liquid, he could see nothing. For one second he ventured to open

his eyes and had them stinging like fire. He dived deeper, groped blindly, and

did not find her. The mineral basin was deep, nearly one hundred feet, Veexow

had told him.

Coming up for air, he inhaled and exhaled, big ones, then held and dived again.

Deeper this time. Forty, fifty feet down, the first outlets tugged on his strong

swimmers body.

During one rare vacation from the Bureau, he had taken Free diving. On his best

dive, the deepest he had gone was eighty-five feet. Excellent for a beginner.

But that had been with benefit of mask, snorkel, fins...

The second inlets/outlets pulled him deeper, he hardly had to kick now to

descend.

PhaHks knew the depth of the outlet but only a vague idea where on the cavern

wall it was located.

The pull on his own body was strong.

Seventy-five feet, he calculated. Part of Free diving was a good grasp of speed

in relation to fathoms.

Just a few more feet would be all he could do. The need for his lungs to exhale

was becoming overwhelming, the water pressure squeezing his rib-cage.

Sunshine. OteesaH.

Sweet, smiling Sunshine. His little girl.

Arms outreached, moving in circles, he felt for solid form.

Then a foot, flailing spasmodically, brushed his hand. PhaHks missed it the

first time. The second time, he latched onto it and didn't let go.

Wrapping both arms around two legs he kicked furiously toward the surface, lungs

screaming.

The ascent was worse with the pull from the outlet, the extra weight and his own

near exhaustion.

Ten feet from the surface, he could no longer stop the reflex to exhale. Once

all the bubbles from the oxygen depleted air left his lungs they immedietly

sucked in. He couldn't prevent it.

Sucking and gasping, he swallowed gritty water, inhaled it but did not let go of

his burden.

Finally the surface, and hands wrestled the limp body from his. PhaHks was left

to pull himself the rest of the way to safety.

Resting on his hands and knees for a moment more, He coughed until water came

up. His chest burned like fire.

When he saw the girl laid out nude and not moving, he crawled over to her. The

boy had lit the lantern and was crouched beside her, speaking to her, patting

her face but doing nothing else.

PhaHks shoved him aside, taking her slack jaw in one hand. Pinching her frothy

nose he began breathing for her.

Blow.

Blow.

Blow.

Then he found the correct spot on her rib-cage and compressed it an inch with

the heels of his hands. Rhythmic downward thrusts for eight seconds.

Blow.

Pumped. One, two, three...

Blow...

With one ear to her chest, he listened for a sound.

Nothing.

"What are you doing?" The boy asked.

"What does it look like?"

The youth roughly shoved PhaHks aside, "Don't touch her!"

PhaHks sprawled. He scrambled back as the powerful youth stood guard and,

searching in the pockets of his discarded clothing, found some sort of tiny

transmitter, (PhaHks guessed), speaking into it. He was summoning the doctor.

With the youths attention momentarily diverted with the doctor's response,

PhaHks resumed his attempts to revive his drowned girl.

The youth yanked PhaHks to his feet and bound his arms behind him, holding him

immobile.

"What the hell are you doing? I'm trying to save her!"

"You are human. You're trying to kill her!"

"Why would I risk my life to save her from drowning just to kill her!?" He

yelled, twisting, trying to free himself.

"The doctor will be here and he will save her. Your human intervention isn't

welcome!"

"Let me go, goddamn it! She's dying! She'd DYING!!" PhaHks yelled, twisting this

way and that in his attempts to shake off the much stronger youth.

Rhengar suddenly was there with a portable light and began swiftly administering

his healing ways.

Veexow also arrived in time to see Rhengar shake his head at the anxious boy.

She arrived in time to see the youth let go of PhaHks' arms without warning and

watch PhaHks fall to his knees.

He was freed too late.

Veexow was in time to watch PhaHks crawl slowly over to the girl. Her petite

face was blotched yellow and she saw only with dead eyes. Strands of brown

soaked hair splayed across her cheek and PhaHks brushed them away with trembling

fingers.

Veexow had arrived in time to see PhaHks close his eyes, his face twist up and

silent tears inch down reddened cheeks. His eyes were shut so tight, he might be

beseeching a god. It was painful to watch.

PhaHks held her tight. Her expression in death had been one of surprise just as

had been her youthful desire in life.

A life that Should Have Been.

He wanted to hug back to life her smile and laughter.

Sunshine had been so tiny, so perfect. So goddamned innocent!

He could have saved her.

PhaHks' eyes pooled and he screamed at the boy.

"Why didn't you let me save her?!" PhaHks' eyes burned holes through to the

grieving youth.

Then turned back to the girl OteesaH, Sunshine. She hadn't deserved this! She

was just beginning. Once upon a time, she'd cleaned up his messes and had

brought bright, pretty eyes every day to his loneliness and desolation.

He hadn't even known her real name until now.

OteesaH. But to him she would always be Sunshine.

"PhaHks."

Veexow rested one hand on his shoulder.

He slapped it away. "Get off me!"

But Hellbitch was there beside him and he laid the dead servant back down,

gently.

Ever so gently.

He had no opening for retaliation to anyone or anything for her death.

Hellbitch was going to take him away from his mourning of her.

He would not be allowed even that.

Veexow gripped his arm and lifted him to his feet. "PhaHks. Come with me now."

Rhengar ignored the commotion, gathering up his things.

PhaHks rose and followed Veexow up the stone stairs.

PhaHks paced, eyes darting everywhere. Veexow thought that he was looking for

something but what she did not know.

"PhaHks, there was nothing more you could have done. Or any of us."

"I could have saved her. If he'd released me, if ANY of you had helped!, she'd

be alive right now."

"You do not know that. In fact,.." she went to him and stood in front to stop

his restless movements.

"..in fact, it is doubtful what you were attempting would have benefitted her.

She was...different than you."

He swallowed. Nodded. She seemed to have distracted him.

"But," she continued, "neither would it have hurt."

In her own way, she was thanking him for trying.

"You should rest now."

He nodded but made no move toward his bed. She, instead, moved to exit.

"PhaHks."

"Yeah?" He sounded spent.

"Why do you distress yourself so over her? She was just a servant girl."

Cold, heartless female.

"You mean easily replaceable? Expendable? Cheap property? Like the one you had

murdered?!" Bitch!

"Be careful, PhaHks."

"Why? Or you'll kill me too?"

"Don't be so dramatic. Things, people die every day. The

rest of us have to go on."

"How enlightened. Maybe some of us don't want to."

"I don't believe that and neither do you. You are no killer, not even of

yourself. I knew it then."

She seemed to be waiting for some response.

"Is that what you thought?" he asked dully. Too tired to keep up the fighting

words.

"Yes." She turned back to him. Considered. "If you had the opportunity to leave,

to really escape,.."

She was absentmindedly rubbing her hands together, her face wanting truth.

"...would you have killed me to take it?"

She saw his eyes flick from side to side, then at her.

He always looked at her directly now. Gaze to gaze, having somewhere along the

line conveniently forgotten her rule of never doing so. A rule she had quickly

discarded.

"In the beginning, yeah." Fuckin' Aye!

She carefully controlled the odd sensations those words incited in her chest.

"And now?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because,...because here,...now, you're all I have." He rubbed his tired face.

"That isn't saying a hell of a lot about my life, is it?"

She nodded, one of understanding if not agreement, but since she had no reply

for him, didn't answer.

No words would change the reality of his world as he saw it.

"Goodnight, PhaHks."

He had free run of her mansion now, including the extensive courtyards and,

provided he told her in advance, was allowed access to outside for hours at a

time.

In between excursions to the top gardens (to be alone), to the Great Hall (to

run), to outside (to be alone, explore or run) and to the pool, PhaHks kept to

his rooms.

He idled.

Slept (whenever the nightmares cooperated and left him alone), ate the boring

food when he got hungry and coped with the periodic bouts of overwhelming

depression.

And every day or so she would come to him and they would have sex.

Quick sex. Slow sex. Sometimes great sex.

He welcomed it. He had instigated it.

Not long ago in fact by an evening visit to her chamber. So powerful was the

need, he'd been unable to get it out of his head.

All day. He thought he might go insane. And there was no one else so he'd payed

Hellbitch a visit one evening and just plain offered himself up to her.

He'd read her right, she hadn't refused.

In fact, she'd nearly injured him. But she owned the complementary plumbing and

his pussy choices consisted of one.

It had been so long since he'd experienced that kind of physical connection to

someone; the give and take; the exchange of body fluids; the stresses and urges

slaked in the taking of flesh.

She showed him things he didn't think his body could do. He even taught her a

few tricks.

It made him feel good for a little while. Almost like being needed, in a way,

again. He hadn't felt like that since...well...since before he could remember

anything else.

Shit, he was pretty sure he must have fucked a vampire somewhere along the line

(lots of former things having faded before this constructed reality), because

looking down - or more often - looking up at Veexow's Dracula face didn't feel

so freaky anymore.

Her yellow pallor, pointed ears, upswept eyebrows...

...Love in the Twilight Zone.

His groin had rediscovered sex and when his stomach found out it was through

"Hellbitch", it quit heaving. Gave up.

Now, when her hot hands raked over his back or kneaded his naked sides, there

was no fear. His dick was literally jumping for joy at every opportunity.

She'd show up, make her intent crystal clear by telling him to get undressed

whether he felt like it or not. It never occurred to her to ask.

But usually he felt like it.

Somewhere in the caverns of his feelings, he still hated her, but the sex made

him forget that for a while.

Her sexual appetites were frequent and often rough, but, occasionally, when she

appeared, she bore an offering of gentleness.

It was the gentleness part he mostly looked forward to. It spun the illusion of

being at the center of someone's universe for a few hours.

And screwing made some of his horribly lonely nights, or days as the case often

was, disappear. And, after a couple hours of her vigorous bump and grind, he'd

sleep like a baby.

All he had to fork over, besides his genitalia, were a few healing wounds where

she sometimes lost control and bit him.

But what's a few tooth marks between friends?

It was a prize deal.

Other than a good run, a good fuck was the thing he did second most often these

days.

Sex and him had always been pals. That is, his dick and his right hand. Now he

had the ongoing real thing for a change. As much milking as he wanted and real

bondage too.

But he would give it up if it meant getting out of there.

He would give up seeing and speaking.

If it meant going home, he would cut off his own penis.

"What are you thinking?"

"Nothing."

"You are constantly closed to me."

"Spelunking."

"What?"

"Spelunking, that's what I was thinking about."

"And what does "spul-un-king" mean?"

"Once I went on vacation to Peru and went cave exploring - spelunking."

"Why?"

Phahks frowned, it seemed a retarded question. "Because I'd never done it

before."

"And what did you find in these caves?"

"Guano mostly. Bat shit. It reeks like you wouldn't believe. Everything was

coated in it."

"So you went on a retreat to view foul-smelling dung?" She was pleased to see

her attempt at humor (a human characteristic with which she still had

difficulties, either using or understanding), spark a small smile from him.

"I went because I wanted to learn something new. I wanted to see something I'd

never seen before."

"Did you?"

"Nothing I couldn't have read about in a book I guess, except for the smell."

Veexow touched his face as they lay on their sides facing each other.

Phahks did not return the gesture but left his hands tucked beneath the pillow.

The sex had been, as usual, insisted upon by her, and ardent and fatiguing. But

he hadn't refused it on that account.

As much as he thought he hated her, his mouth had slid across hers. As much as

he thought he wanted her to die, his hands had groped and clutched.

Even as his mind remembered her cruelties, he had pumped her furiously, wanting

to drive his cock straight through her like a stake.

Nail her to the floor.

Now he just wanted to pass out.

But she wanted to "talk", so of course...

PhaHks kept his jaw clenched and spoke through his teeth. He wanted to keep it

together. Wanted control. Control!

He was tired, and long, thought-free sleep was all he craved. That was all.

Jesus, that was all! For fuck sakes, was it too goddamn much to ask?!

If he shouted, Veexow would strike and he really didn't feel like losing a back

tooth tonight.

Didn't much fancy the notion of Doctor mother fucking "Rheng-ele" standing over

him with his metal tray of Nazi-probes!

"Is that what you feel? PhaHks? Is this a cave of awful things you would have

preferred seeing only in a book?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want to know your feelings, I want to understand you."

"No, you don't."

She sighed at his customary sidestepping. "You share nothing with me, PhaHks-"

"Is that a fact? I seem to remember just sharing my dick with you."

Veexow pursed her lips. He often did this post sex. Trying, through words, to

turn their lovemaking into something ugly.

"But nothing else. We make love and then you-"

"Is that what we've been doing?? I thought we were fucking. But, shit, if you

say it's something else, then it's not my place to argue, is it?"

"PhaHks-"

"So, let me get this straight: draining me of semen gives you the right to suck

out everything else. Do I pass?"

He watched her face. Had calculated his words to incite her anger and pride and

sense of ownership.

"Don't cross the line, PhaHks."

Bingo!

"You want to hit me, don't you?" He said.

She stared, knew most of his games and how he protected himself. This thrust and

parry was just one.

He continued, ""Express my feelings"?, "Tell you what I think"?"...

Crossed him arms and shifted restlessly, shimming back a foot. Widened the gap.

"...you want the truth, and when I fucking hand it over and you beat me for it."

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

Veexow tried to grasp his hand but he wouldn't untuck it from the crook of his

elbow.

"I don't want to do that. But you must start accepting things as they are,

PhaHks. You must try and accept your life here."

His face flushed. From observation, Veexow knew it meant reined-in anger.

"No, I don't." He answered succinctly. "This isn't a life, it's a sentence. A

home doesn't have bars behind the curtains or a Warden who fucks the prisoner

when the lights go out..."

The anger found release in his voice.

"...I don't care if you beat me or break my neck, I don't HAVE to accept

anything."

He turned his back to her and went to sleep.

Veexow received the communication into her hand. Read it. Retrieving something

out of her cabinet, she gripped it in her fist and went directly to PhaHks'

rooms.

"Take this."

PhaHks looked at the orange pill she held out imploringly. Registered the

anxiety on her face and in her posture.

Without moving to accept the pill, "What's going on?"

Veexow stood ridged, arm outstretched. Her eyes were frightened. "We have to

leave." was all she offered.

Not enough for him. "What are you talking about?"

He stood with his hands on his hips, an attitude he adopted frequently. When he

sensed he was being lied to. When his instincts told him to question everything.

He did it when he became the interrogator.

Veexow came forward, pressed the mystery pill into his palm and closed his hand

over it. The uncharacteristic gesture and the alarm behind her eyes startled

him.

"What is it? Tell me?" It was a demand.

"Please! Can't you just once do ask I ask without questioning it? We have to

leave as soon as possible. Immediately."

PhaHks took her elbow in his other hand.

It was a rare occurrence. He never voluntarily touched her unless it was in the

rush of sex. "Just tell me what is happening and I'll swallow the goddamn pill."

In trusting her, she realized it was as far as he would go.

"There is a small force on its way here, to take me to the Capital. And you."

PhaHks knew that was not a good thing without really knowing all the reasons

why. Exactly.

But if it scared her this much, and she was trying to protect him, then he'd

take fucking drug. "What's it going to do to me?"

"Just put you into a deep sleep. It will..."

Veexow looked at his rainbow irises and pink flush. Chin stubble. Caught his

scent. "...keep you safe."

He moved to swallow the pill but a thought stopped him. "Are you...letting me

go?" A tiny hope.

Veexow closed her eyes and then opened them again, looking at him miserably. "I

am taking you somewhere where you'll be safe. Where we won't have to worry

anymore. Where we can live peacefully."

She could see PhaHks expression harden at her word usage. The idea of "living

peacefully" anywhere in her world seemed to be beyond the human's grasp. But it

was his destiny. Perhaps he knew that.

If so, he hated her for it.

He swallowed the pill.