Wow, sorry it took so long! I did plan to update on the promised Monday, but there was blood pooling in the bottom of my foot, and my overly-spastic mom thought I had torn open a vein, so she wouldn't let me put it down—thus no computer. After that… well, I've had exams. Sorry. And then my spastic mom's thyroid gland started acting up again, so I had to be on my toes and off the computer a lot. Finally, my stupid computer deleted all my files from my movie maker, so I have to re-upload them if I want to keep making my AMVs. 103 episodes to re-upload… but nonetheless, I have painted a target on my forehead for the rotten oranges.

To Darkfire: You aren't pestering me! I am deeply honored that you like my fan fiction enough to review so may times… I apologize, actually. Does a lazy authoress like me deserve such a dedicated reader?

Uber-long author's note. Again. I've gotta learn how to cut those explanations (excuses) down…

Disclaimer: I don't own Tokyo Mew Mew, it belongs to Mia Ikumi and Reiko Yoshida, and if I were to someday come to own it, the first thing I would do would be commission a sequel where Masaya gets killed with… er… rotten oranges, and Kish is the main character. Capiche? Who wants me to own it now? XD

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

(Re-cap of the last torture scene, and then a continuation. If you don't like torture scenes, do not read the sections in italics. You have been warned.)

Pudding somehow doubted that this time she would be lucky enough to be spared any true pain. The monkey mew shuddered as she stepped through the door of the torture chamber, her eyes closed, her nose wrinkled against the smell of blood that permeated the room. The mew mew didn't see the need to open her eyes—Pai was guiding her anyways, so why did she need to look where she was going?

Pai stopped suddenly, and Pudding slammed into him. Her eyes flew open automatically, and she backed up instinctively, frightened beyond belief. In front of her face was a modernized—or rather, far more advanced than modern human technology—looking version of a medieval stretch rack—which looked as though is could stretch someone much farther than her four-foot-seven frame could handle. The monkey tried to turn, only to be caught by Pai's strong grip, which seemed forceful enough to snap her bones.

"Don't make this harder on yourself than it has to be," the alien advised, strapping her limbs to the rack. "And please don't think that I'm enjoying this. Torture is more of something that humans would resort to than our people. I wouldn't be doing this if it weren't for what your friends did to Kish. Don't try and think that you shouldn't share the blame."

Pudding gazed in fear at the alien. The bonds let her limbs hang slack now, yet the monkey mew doubted that it would last. The blond girl cringed as Pai headed over to a counter and picked up a small, streamlined remote. The purple haired alien his a button and set the remote down to observe.

At first the pain wasn't so much. Pudding felt the rack move and felt her limbs being slowly pulled apart, but the pain wasn't so great for almost a minute in. The discomfort started eventually, escalating into true pain. "AH!" the girl cried out at the straps around her wrists and ankles pinched the skin, as the skin itself began to tear, reaching its limit of elasticity. Both of her shoulders popped out of their sockets, dislocated; she could feel the tendons and veins in her limbs weakening. Dangling put pressure on the yellow monkey girl's wildly beating heart, making breathing painful "AIII! STOP!"

Pai shrugged and pressed another button on the remote. The machine slowly ground to a halt, leaving Pudding gasping, staring at the torn, mangled skin covered in irregular tears. She realized that tears were streaming down her face and allowed a mangled sob to escape her throat. She knew that this would continue until Tar-tar came back…

Pai un-strapped her limbs and hooked an arm under her armpits, holding her more than an inch off of the ground as he scanned the room, deciding what instruments to use next. Pudding dangled limply, trying to conserve her energy, taking in short, painful gasps of oxygen. She knew that even if she was in a condition to run, Pai's abilities of flight and teleportation would make escape absolutely hopeless. A part of her mind wanted Tart to hurry up and bring Aoyama-oniichan to take her place, but the small monkey girl instantly felt guilty for such thoughts.

Pai nodded and walked towards what seemed to be a small, innocent looking closet-type-thing. Pudding felt nauseous as Pai opened up the doors to the box. The door was covered with thick, long spikes, and there were metal cuffs positioned on the back, undoubtedly to hold one's arms and legs still, to prevent the victim from trying to dodge the spikes. With a flash on uncharacteristic cynicism, Pudding wondered if Pai was just lying about not being a sadist, about his people rarely resorting to torture. Who else would keep a device that so resembled The Iron Maiden on board their ship?

The yellow monkey mew couldn't hold back a whimper of fright as Pai pulled open the door fully and secured her wrists and ankles. The device was built for someone of an adult size, so Pudding's arms ended up above her head and stretched out to the side rather than simply out to the side. As Pai stepped back from trapping her limbs, one of the sharp, clean spikes grazed his arm, breaking the skin. "Sh…" the alien hissed, biting back curses as blood dripped from the piece of iron and onto the floor.

Pudding's breath came in ragged bursts as Pai managed to extricate himself from the small container and stepped back, his hand on the door. The girl's honey-colored eyes were as wide as saucers as his hand came to rest on the door. Slowly, torturously, the door closed. Pudding's gasps turned into screams as the door inched ever more shut, the spikes imbedding themselves deep within her skin, their strategic placement causing them to just miss all of her vital organs, sparing her what she felt now would be the welcome release from all of this torment. Blood oozed onto the spikes and dripped down a drain in the floor of the mew's iron prison. The monkey girl's throat was becoming raw with screaming, intensifying the pain. The screams finally settled into dull sobs as Pudding's vocal chords refused to endure the abuse that loud noises put them through. The mew mew didn't know how long she drifted in and out of consciousness as her blood trickled away, but she was sure it was at least an hour before Pai opened the door. The alien carelessly doused the girl in a tub of disinfectant. Pudding released a raspy cry, all that her throat would produce, and collapsed limply against the alien as he lifted her out and carried her over to where, at long last, Tart waited for her.

(End of torture scene! I can only hope that the information I had about the iron maiden was all fairly accurate…)

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Pai's eyes showed no emotion as he watched the younger alien vomit onto the bloodstained floor of the ship's formerly pristine torture chamber. "Clean that up," he ordered Tart. "After that, you may take this human and get her healed." The purple haired man knelt down and hefted Masaya off the ground, net and all.

Masaya thrashed around seeking escape from the net. The boy's black hair stuck to his face, slick with sweat from the exertion of struggling so futilely, twisted with mild nausea. Apparently, he had seen the tortured Pudding, and knew it was his turn next…

Tart couldn't say that he cared much what happened to the boy. He would be lying if he said that he felt any sympathy whatsoever for the human. His one and only concern at the moment was with getting Pudding to the ships healing station before she died of blood loss.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

For some reason, this chapter was really hard to write… not sure why. Maybe because my mom wouldn't shut up and was dragging me downstairs to pack for work camp every 5 minutes? I shall never know…

Speaking of which, please wait two weeks before getting on me about updating. From this Saturday to next Saturday, I have work camp for my youth group. No internet—I just found out I won't even be allowed to sketch! WHY?! Is there a point? None that I can see. GR… I was sort of looking forward to it until I found out we aren't even allowed to bring books… So please, in two weeks (today is Tuesday, so you all know :D) you may yell at me to update.