What's this! Updating earlier than usual! I must be going mad! Actually, I just ended my last day of high school. More time for me to do stuff. Woo! Let's get this Part Two started. It follows the SING format, but it's still a little different. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Me? Own things! Well, I never.


"Cat and mouse…"

"Get the girl…"

"Just a game…"

"He's waking up…"

Party Poison's eyes flickered open, vision blurry and shifting. They focused slowly on the gun pointing down at him and the man behind the trigger.

Korse stared down at him, teeth bared, eyes wild with insanity. "Keep running."

Directly beside him, Curly struggled against the powerful arms of a Draculoid. Another one held the radio, flipped it over in his hands, and inspected it as though he were unfamiliar with it.

Poison tried with all his strength to get up, to keep his heavy eyes open. Nothing worked. His eyes shut once more and his head hit the dirt. Only two words drifted in and out of his mind.

Keep running. Keep. Running.

Keep. Running.

Keep…

Running…


He rolled over, uneasily. Keep running.

"Fuck."

They had Curly. What was he going to tell Jet? Keep running.

What was it those bastards shot at them? Damn sure wasn't lasers.

Poison tried to sit up, but his arms faltered under him and gave out. He hit his head hard on the ground. "Mother… Fuck!"

Poison kicked into the air. He knew what the problem was. He pulled up his jacket sleeve, slowly and with trouble, revealing the brand new scar there. The Better Living Industries Logo. Fan-fucking-tastic. Now he had two of them.

What they shot was a sleep-inducing drug. A dissolving dart. Once it was shot at someone, it clung to them and sunk into their skin. And it was all topped off with the Better Living Industries Touch. He groaned, pushing himself off the ground again.

He turned to Jet, lain across the desert floor and shook him. "Jet… Jet, get up." Jet stirred. "Get up," Poison repeated.

Jet opened his eyes, his pupils converting from dilation. "I can't see…" he mumbled.

"Yeah, it'll do that. It's a side effect from the drug that they shot at us. Just wait a minute. It should come back." Poison sighed. He wasn't completely sure. Being an intern for Better Living Industries didn't teach you much. Only to be a good little sheep, take your meds, let them use you as a test rat, and don't get in their way.

"Drug…?" Jet mumbled, confused.

"What drug?" This was Kobra, sitting up in the dirt, completely unharmed. He scratched the back of his head and squinted at the setting sun. "What the fuck happened?"

Poison stood, wobbling slightly. Ghoul was still out cold, but he should be alive. He worried about Ghoul. The shot could have easily killed him. His lungs weren't the strongest. Ghoul was tough, though… He'd probably be fine.

"They didn't shoot bullets at us. It was a dart. A tranquilizer, basically. Once it makes physical contact with someone, it hangs on and dissolves into your blood stream. There's no telling how long we've been asleep. Check your bodies. Arms, legs, stomachs. You've got a mark somewhere. Kobra, wake up Ghoul. We've got to go."

Poison's voice was calm, but his mind was in a fury. He was angry, scared, upset, all in one. But he had to be a leader right now. He couldn't let them know. He couldn't let anyone know. He was Poison. He only knew two emotions. Apathy and annoyance. He was the leader. He had to lead.

Jet sat up. "My eye…" he mumbled. "I can't see out of my right eye." Suddenly, something clicked and both his eyes flashed. "Where's Curly?"

"Ghoul's not waking up," Kobra said, urgency in his tone.

Shit… This is where being a leader was difficult. When everything was going wrong.

"They got her, Jet," Poison said, walking over to Kobra and Ghoul. "Is he breathing? Does it sound like he's having any problems?"

Kobra put an ear to Ghoul's chest and listened. "A little," he mumbled. "It's kind of broken up. Like when he runs for a long time."

"He should be fine. But don't try to wake him up anyone. We'll have to carry him."

"Who is they, Poison?" Jet was on his feet now, stumbling towards them. "I swear if those mother fuckers got their hands on her…"

"They did," Poison said. He turned towards Jet. "Now, here's what we're gonna do. We're going to Battery City and we're going to get her. Simple as that." It wasn't as simple as that… God, he knew that too well.

"Then let's go. There's no use in us waiting around here. That's not getting Curly back any quicker."

Jet turned and started off, quickly, tripping himself as he tried to move along.

"Jet, we're going to go. But you have to slow down. The effects haven't worn off of any of us, except Kobra. And that's only because he's a fast healer. We've got to move slow." Poison crossed his arms over his chest. This was a delicate time and he understood completely. But, Jet was going to have to listen to him, or he was going to snap.

"No time. We have to go."

"Jet, you can't even see out of one of your eyes! What are you going to do without backup? We're not going yet. You're the only one." Poison rolled his eyes, walking steadily towards him.

Jet spun around and faced him. "We have to go! They've got Curly! I promised I'd never let that happen! I have to go!"

The fiery gaze in Jet's eyes glistened with tears he refused to cry. He was completely anguished. Poison had to choose his words carefully.

"Curly is a part of this family," Poison said. "We're going to get her. But we've got to be tactful…"

"Fuck tact, Malikai!"

Jet may have said something else after that, but Poison didn't hear it. That name deafened his hearing and blinded his good judgment. He gained on him quicker than his legs moved and took him by the collar. He raised a first, ready to smash it into his face.

His fist didn't make it, though. It didn't go spiraling down and smashing into his teeth like he'd planned it to. Jet caught it in his own hand, and they both glared at each other, tension heating. "Don't you ever call me that, Jet. I spent too much time forgetting that name and you will not bring it up again. I don't care what you heard from anyone. It's Party Poison. Understand?"

"Let me go, Poison," Jet growled. "And let's go."

Poison's grip on his collar tightened for a moment and then he released him. The gaze never left. "Kobra," he called. "Get Ghoul. We've got a long walk."


She'd given up struggling. She'd given up being terrified. She'd given up screaming. She was sitting quietly now, in the back seat of a sleek black sports car, in between a Draculoid and the head of Better Living Industries, staring straight ahead.

The tented windows made it look much darker outside than it really was. She never stopped expecting to feel the wind over her face and dancing in her hair like she did in Poison's car. This was so surreal. She hated this.

The dirty desert roads she loved so much eventually ended and a tunnel began. So, they really were headed back. Back to Battery City. The city she hadn't seen in so long that she could barely remember what it was like. She didn't want this. But there was nothing she could do. She was defenseless. Just a little girl with nothing to protect herself with. She'd tried running. It hadn't worked. There was nothing she could do… Except wait.

"Are you afraid, little girl?" Korse asked, looking at her from the side of his eye. The sickly grin he had in his face was one she'd like to punch in.

She shrugged. "A little."

He chuckled softly. "Do you fear for your life?"

She looked at him. "No," she said, shaking her head.

He blinked and stared at her. "What?" he asked. He looked shocked. He'd obviously never gotten that answer before.

"No, I don't," she repeated.

Another soft chuckle, then he reached inside his coat and pulled out a gun. He held it in front of himself, inspecting it. "That's funny, dear child. They always fear for their lives." He pressed the end of the gun into her curls, making sure it touched her head. "Do you fear now, child?"

Curly felt the butterflies in her stomach, but she ignored them. She stood her ground. "No," she said. "You won't do it."

He shook his head in disbelief. "What is wrong with you, child? Why aren't you afraid?"

"They'll come find me. They never leave me alone for long." She smiled.


Ghoul opened his eyes slowly. He hurt. Everything hurt. His lungs felt like they were on fire and his head was pounding. The rest of the pain was minor, but it was everywhere. His fingers, his legs, his nose. It was a constant ache. He groaned.

"Look alive, sunshine," Poison mumbled.

"What happened?" Ghoul asked, shaking his head and sitting up in his seat. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes. The carton was completely empty. "Fuck…"

"We're going back to Battery City," Poison said.

"They got Curly…" Jet muttered from the seat beside him.

"We sent out a flare. We're getting back-up. I don't know when…" Poison stepped down on the gas.

"We're going back?" Ghoul asked. "Really?" He couldn't help the sudden joy that swelled up inside him, but it faded quickly. "They got Curly? Fuck that! How long till we get there?"

"About an hour," Poison said, "We've been on the road for a while now."

Ghoul rubbed his face, trying to rub away the tired agitation and frowned. What was that on his face? He leaned forward between Poison and Kobra and looked into the rearview mirror.

A scarring welt was growing on his right cheek. A deformed, twisted logo from Better Living Industries.


"Why must I watch this child? I am the head of the security department! I am not some kind of babysitter!"

The woman was very business-like, with a black women's suit and skirt set. She was Asian in appearance, standing tall on thick high heels and her hair cut perfectly at her shoulders. She crossed her arms, teeth snarled behind red lipstick.

The head grabbed her cheeks and squeezed. "You're the only one I trust, darling. Take it as an honor. I don't trust many women. I can always pit you in with the other useless women in the kitchen. Or, how about the feeding room?"

Curly saw the fear flash in her eyes. "No, this is very okay. She is just a child. There is not much she can do."

Yup, that was Curly. Just a useless child. She had come to terms with that, watching the dead eyed citizen of Battery City enter their homes as they drove through the vague city streets. That didn't matter, though. She was just waiting for the Killjoys to show up.

"Exactly, my love." He kissed her nose lightly. "Now, I'll be off. I must rest. It's stressful work, taking over the world." With that, he turned on his heels, and was headed towards the door.

"What am I supposed to do with her!" the woman called.

The head threw a hand into the air and shrugged. "I don't know. Keep her occupied. Give her a ball or something."

A ball? What was she, five? She played with robot toys. Not to mention the occasional transmitter and ray gun. God, they did think she was a child. Whatever… Didn't matter. She didn't plan on being here long anyway.

They both stood in the main hall of the Better Living Industries headquarters for quite a while. The woman stared at Curly for some time, making her uncomfortable.

Curly averted her eyes and looked around the corridor. The empty front desk was illuminated in the moonlight and made the sign above it glow.

Better Living Industries

BL/ind

BLIND

"Hello, little girl," the woman said.

"Hi," Curly sad, watching the sign.

"Do you wish to know my name?"

Curly shook her head.

"Oh," the woman said. "Well then, what is yours?"

"Missal Kid," Curly said confidently, her eyes never leaving the sign.

Blind…

They'd blinded an entire city and they were working on the world. The life sucked away from what was once a perfect city. Sure, there was crime and it had its flaws, but… Would you destroy something perfect in order to make it beautiful?

"Missal Kid is not a realistic name, darling. Come along, we will figure out your real name."

The woman took her wrist and pulled her off. She cooperated, no longer finding the point in a struggle. She led her from the corridor into a hallway, lined with offices. Along the opposite wall were posters. Endless posters. The posters she'd seen even in the desert. One of Party Poison. One of Kobra Kid. One of Fun Ghoul. One of Jet Star.

Exterminate. Exterminate. Exterminate. Exterminate.

She'd always know that the Killjoys were out to be killed, but this was the first time it ever really hit her.

The Killjoys were the lights that helped the world see in Better Living Industries blinded world. And they wanted them dead.

Her stomach sunk and she suddenly had the overwhelming urge to vomit where she stood.

The woman pulled her on, and pointed at a Drac. "You. Get the child a toy. A BLI brand kickball."

Then, she stepped towards an elevator and pressed its 'UP' button.

The end of the hall stopped the repetition of the posters. There was only one face there eventually, the posters thrown up any way they could fit. Poison's face. One after the other, after the other, after the other. The woman pulled her into the elevator. Her stomach still turned and her heart beat fast. She didn't like this. She didn't like this one bit.


The quiet stretched on for an unbelievable amount of time. He hated patrolling the tunnels. He rarely had to, but for some reason, they needed extra patrols tonight. So he was stuck with the tunnel weirdo, wearing the 'human' cloth BLI mask who never even spoke.

He groaned. He was a guard! He should be at headquarters, surveying, or out in the desert, taking down some damn zone runners! But, here he was, spending his night here, watching the tunnels with a guy he couldn't even have a conversation with!

He was terribly bored… Another flip through this nudie magazine in his lap was not going to help. SHINEY was not a good skin magazine. There wasn't any skin! Only metallic asses and metal tits. And somehow, there he was again, flipping through it. He stared down at the chrome and sighed.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the window. He looked up. His dumbass, silent companion that had sat outside the booth with his gun in his lap, staring straight ahead was now pointing frantically down the tunnel.

His head shot up and his eyes down the tunnel. Headlights. And they were gaining fast. He stood quickly and grabbed his ray gun. He ran from the booth and they stood in front of the drop-down gate, poising their guns, nervously. A car that fast was only trouble.

They wouldn't hit them, would they? No… Cars entering Battery City were always kind and courteous to their methods. Then why wasn't this car slowing down…?


Curly's stomach growled. "Are you hungry, little girl?" the woman asked.

Curly looked up at her. Yes, very much. "No."

"Nonsense. I heard your tiny little stomach growl. We all did. Didn't we?" A group of Draculoids, surveying cameras with pictures of the Battery City streets and the desert outskirts infront of a giant transmitter, all mumbled agreements. "We will go get you food. Come along." The woman grabbed her arm and pulled on it, forcing her to stand.

It had been at least three days since she had eaten. She couldn't remember, really. It was taking a toll on her, however. There was a constant pain in the back of her head and the vacant space in her stomach couldn't be ignored. But, how could she eat here? How could she eat their food?

She wouldn't. She simply wouldn't. "I'm not hungry," she said, but her stomach gave away her lie. The woman pulled her along, all the way into a large cafeteria. She shoved her towards a table where a couple of Draculoids sat, playing cards and ordered her to sit.

She shook her head. "I'll stand."

The woman shrugged. "As you wish. Watch the child," she said to one of the masked vampires.

"Whatever," the other replied, waving her away.

Curly stood awkwardly, the two Draculoids staring her up and down. "Why is he keeping her?" one asked.

"I don't know. The kid looks pretty useless. Probably wouldn't even be filling."

Curly grimaced and looked away from them to the television show being projected on the large window directly across. So anyone inside could see it and anyone outside could see it.

"Welcome to Fact New. The Only News."

The man on the screen was overwhelmingly plain, thick glasses and blonde hair slicked back. He swiveled around in a chair and tried for his best intense stare. It didn't work.

"Millions of artificial flies will be released into the atmosphere tomorrow morning as a part of Battery City's new surveillance system. Citizens are urged to no longer smash the insects, because you might be destroying government property, which could result in a one million dollar fine or a thirty year sentence in prison. Now, time for Though Adjustment."

The screen turned a blinding white and an empty black circle appeared in the middle. Above it was written Thought Adjustment and below it was 'BL/ind.'

Inside the circle, many other circles formed a new circle. In the middle of that one, a lone one. Each one began to spin in different directions, making a dizzying image, all except the center one that didn't budge.

A woman's voice began to speak, like a movie phone voice. Pleasant and annoying.

"Please stare into the center of the moving shape."

Curly immediately found herself looking away, down towards the floor. No… She wouldn't be like the rest of them, all those dead eyed people she saw heading into their homes after a long day of being a good little sheep. She wouldn't be blinded.

"Little girl, you must watch the Thought Adjustment." Curly jumped from her skin. She shook her head, glancing at the packaged sandwich in the woman's hand. She sat the sandwich down, along with a small juice box. Both marked with the BLI logo.

"Yes, little girl. It is customary after each news segment."

"I don't want to."

The woman took Curly's head in her hands. Curly fought her, but she forced her face towards the screen. It all disappeared then. There was only the voice… The voice and the shape.

I'm so happy to be alive.

Everything is going to be fine.

Did I take my medication today?

Keep working hard to stay alive.

Goodbye.

The shape disappeared and was replaced by a quickly fading image of the Better Living logo.

Mmm… Food. That would be nice. Bailey sat at the table with the two mean and ate.