When the dream decided to play itself out, it always seemed to happen the exact same way, with stunning clarity, as if it had been recorded. The mind it chose to haunt slept deeply as it recalled every single detail of the day everything had changed.
Much younger then, she ran through the freezing rain, ignoring the fact that the snow came up to her shins. This was Russia; anyone who couldn't make their way through a decent snowfall was ultimately doomed to failure of an epic degree. Katalina had a bit of an advantage over her pursuers, though, since she'd been relying on her knowledge of the streets for so long, she knew exactly where to go to escape.
That was good. Very good. If they caught her, she knew they'd kill her. It didn't particularly matter if she was a kid.
There were caves outside the town, which she'd spent the last summer mapping out in her mind. They weren't particularly complicated, but there were enough places in them to hide where she wouldn't be bothered. Of course, one detail stuck out in the back of her mind, one little persistent thought - that the thugs who were chasing her might just know the layout of these caves, too. It would be her luck.
Still, she reached the old, dead elm, turned directly left, fled a few more steps, and then started digging through the snow as if her life depended on it.
Stupid. Stupid. They'd see her tracks!
Too late to give up now.
Eventually, she found what she'd been looking for and wiggled through the opening. On the other side, there was a small drop, which she always found disorienting but painless. Righting herself and taking a moment to appreciate the relative warmth of the location compared with the gusty near-zero temperatures outside, she continued to run.
The dream always got a little fuzzy here, but it made sense. Enclosed and chased, Katalina only felt an all-encompassing sense of dread and panic. Somehow, she made it through the cave's natural passageways and hid herself in a hole. She didn't care that it was full of runoff from last week's melt, or that the water that came up to her ankles was causing her toes to go numb. As long as she stayed quiet, they couldn't possibly find her here. It was too far off the main chamber and they'd be in too much of a hurry. Plus, they wouldn't have lights, and it was awfully dark over here. So dark, that she couldn't see her hand in front of her eyes.
"Hey, you really should knock before barging into someone's home."
The fact that she couldn't tell if the voice was male or female made her uneasy. As well, it was in English, which was only secondary to her own Russian. Some of the more complicated words stumped her.
"Barged?" she asked.
"You runnin' from something, kid?"
She nodded. "Stole from them. I had to. Was no other way. You must keep quiet, or they'll find me."
"You want to escape?"
She heard the echoes of footsteps, far away at the moment. But they'd come closer, and if she was still talking, they'd surely hear her. "You must keep quiet!" she hissed. Peering out from the hole, she looked for an escape - some other place to hide, away from the irritation who'd already claimed her best hope. "If only I were someone else."
"Someone else! Hah."
Finding no other place to go, she drew back into the turtle shell-like depression, glaring in the direction of the chatterbox. "A different look. To be someone else. I could walk out of here and they'd never know it was me."
"You wish it?"
"With all of heart."
"Granted."
Suddenly, she felt strange, her whole body warming to nearly unbearable levels. Suddenly glad for the frigid water at her feet, she splashed it on herself, but it did nothing to relieve the feeling, which radiated from her chest, to her limbs and her face. Very subtle changes followed, which were not completely uncomfortable, except in one particular location. Clutching her abdomen just below her stomach, she gritted her teeth, fighting to keep from crying out. Somehow, she managed to remain silent as something inside her twisted and shifted in a most painful fashion.
She could feel her clothes changing, too. The heavy wool she'd been wearing became some sort of short-sleeved shirt and light pants ensemble, just as the warmth dissipated. Suddenly freezing, she shivered uncontrollably, accidentally splashing in the water that was now surrounding sandaled feet.
"Over here!" a voice said in Russian.
No, no, no…
A face appeared at the hole, and a moment later, the man it belonged to shined a flashlight directly into her face. A burly hand reached in, grabbed her by the collar, and hauled her out. Katalina expected to be immediately dispatched, only hoping that the deed was done quickly and mercifully. Instinctively, she threw one arm over her head, tightly closing her eyes with the dismal anticipation of her own end, hoping that her family wouldn't worry too much when she never came home.
"Boss, it's just some kid," the man said.
Daring a glance, Kat opened her eyes, gazing directly into the barrel of a gun. Beyond that, the confused, ice-blue eyes of one of the thugs who'd been chasing her stared downward warily. Could her wish have been granted? Did she really look unrecognizable to them? She chanced a weak smile.
A moment later, another man joined the first. He was large, intimidating; dark brown eyes met hers and softened into something much less threatening. "What are you doing hiding here, you little baby-face?" he asked, crouching down and removing the coat from his shoulders. He covered her with it, and her smile came stronger. When she muttered her thanks, she could tell that her voice was different. Something about it seemed disturbing to her, though.
The large man asked her another question. "Did you see a girl run by? About your age? She was pretty bundled up."
Taking the opportunity, she nodded and gestured further into the cave. Her hand definitely looked different.
"Find her," the man said, and the first thug who'd pulled her out of the hole immediately took off.
"Let's get you somewhere dry." He helped her up, which caused her to notice there was something a bit off about herself. Something she hadn't been able to explain when she'd been engulfed by pain. "You will call me Uncle Kolya. One day, you will make up this favor to me. Come, son."
She looked back at the hole, desperately searching for the other fugitive, but no one else was there.
—-
Babyface awoke with a start, gritting his teeth and sitting up on the uncomfortable bed. With no windows in his cell, he could never tell if it was day or night, but that didn't matter at the moment. Every time he was sure he'd conquered his anger, the dream would return and remind him of that night, of his stupid decision, of Kolya and the years that followed where he was brought up as the man's son.
It wasn't until very recently that Babyface understood what had happened to him in the cave. Far from simply altering his features, the other person hiding alongside him had taken the appearance of someone else entirely and copied it, right down to gender. As his crime legend grew, he also studied the phenomenon, coming to the conclusion that the creature he'd found in the cave was some sort of lesser demon - a djinn - and following that, Babyface dedicated his life to locating another. By this point, it wasn't even about getting his life back. He'd been this way for years, after all, and had no desire to completely destroy everything he'd worked hard to achieve by taking on his former appearance. This was about revenge.
Since coming face to face with the boy from which he'd been copied, Babyface couldn't help feeling an affection toward him. After all, they'd both been wronged by the demon in a way, even if Micky didn't really understand it at all. After their meeting, his underlings had asked if they should dispose of the lookalike, an offer which Babyface refused. The only one at fault was the djinn, honestly.
Vengeance, however, couldn't be exacted from inside a prison cell. Thankfully, breaking out was Babyface's specialty, and he never did it the same way twice. It was always a challenge, something with which to tease his mind and keep himself sane.
Standing, he approached the mirror over his sink, staring into it for a long time. The dream always did this to him - made him wonder what he'd look like if he did actually grow up as he was born. He imagined he'd be pretty, maybe. Not like this flat-faced man he'd become. Hell, he didn't even like smiling because it always looked so goofy. Still, he appreciated his face, embraced it, even. Saw it as the ultimate disguise, even if it meant he could never see his family again. Maybe they were already dead and buried anyway.
As he stared at himself, someone approached the bars of his cell.
"I don't know how you did it," the officer said, opening the door. "I know it was you, though."
Despite how he hated smiling, Babyface spared one for his own reflection, before turning his attention to the uniformed man. "From prison? Please. Tell me more."
But the officer looked unamused, and unwilling to discuss the finer points of Babyface's release. It didn't matter; villains always had a plan. This one simply involved paying off the right people. Innocence, it turned out, was pretty easy to buy if you knew who to turn to.
"Let's go. Haven't got all night."
Ah, so it was night. Seemed fitting. Maybe this was why he had the dream tonight - release meant that he could continue his search. He simply needed a little inspiration, a little renewal of that old rage that always existed in his heart. If he had a heart. Some people said he didn't. Taking his time, he stepped past the guard, hands in the pocket of his striped prison jumpsuit. "My boys here?"
"Yeah. Outside. Stupid, if you ask me."
"They haven't done nothin'. You go ahead and drag 'em in here, see what happens." Despite himself, he had to smile again. "Go on, then. Lead me to the exit of this dump."
Wordlessly, the guard led on.
—-
"Nice of you to relinquish your command," Babyface said, patting Tony on the cheek. His second didn't seem particularly amused by this turn of events, although he certainly had a hand in making it happen. It was amazing how, despite how much all the underlings despised him, they still went out of their way to free him. Perhaps his ability to instill fear had more influence than he previously thought.
Dressed comfortably now, he stretched out his legs, reclining in Tony's favorite chair. Tony stood nearby, glowering but silent, and just to rub it all in, Babyface closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. Being free sure felt nice.
"So, what's been goin' on? Anything I should know about?" The criminal mastermind opened one eye, folding his hands behind his head.
"Somethin' strange happening the other night is all," Tony replied. "Been keepin' tabs on that kid that looks like you. Don't know why you won't just let us rub him out. It would make things a lot less… complicated."
Suddenly irritated, Babyface sat up, pointing at his second. "'cuz I said so. That's why. You ask me about it again, and you'll find yourself six feet under. Now, what's strange?"
Tony's jaw set. The man had a temper, that was for damn sure. He'd spill his secret when he was ready, though. Boredly, Babyface leaned back in the chair again, repeating his previous ritual of sighing in contentment and closing his eyes. The world could wait at the moment, as far as he was concerned, because he was free of that damn hellhole and he meant to enjoy it.
"They had this chicken with 'em."
"Nothin' weird about a chicken."
"Look, Boss, I'm tryin' to say…" Tony fiddled with the brim of his hat, before nervously rubbing his hands together. Information generally didn't come cheap in this trade, but here was Tony, volunteering it at no charge to the one man he despised more than any other. That was Power, Babyface thought, at Tony collected himself. "They had a chicken with 'em, and I think it was the tall one. The one from Texas."
"The chicken was? Come on, Tony." Despite his dismissive words, Babyface felt his stomach do a flip-flop. Dare he hope?
"We think we found what you was lookin' for, boss. This other kid with them called himself a demon. Said something about granting wishes."
Yawning, Babyface waved one hand. "Good job, Tony. Get the others together."
They had some work to do.
