To those of you that are reading:

... Awake ... so ... late ... O.O

Must... sleep...

... Want to write ...

So tired ... but ... I love you guys so much ... ..

... thank you for reading ... ... ...

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It snows. There's group bonding. Kitty finally begins to understand some things, and wonders: What really makes a monster?

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Between Dream and Reality
Zwischen Traum und Wirklichkeit

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Finding Monsters
Suche nach Monstern

The snow was heavy that day, slowing down the dead.

Only a few managed to make it into the building. The rest were caught in snowdrifts, their legs frozen solid. If he looked outside, Tank could see them dotting the streets, petrified into repulsive statues. Even their screams faded after a while.

The crew lit a fire in the middle of the stage that day, against Richtofen's wishes. It was simply too cold not to. Between the deterioration of the building and the lack of proper heating equipment, the fire was a literal lifesaver. They spent the day alternating shifts, like they would at night, coming back to the fire to thaw out. And when the night came, they gathered their supplies onto the stage, banding together for warmth.

Kitty and Tank huddled under the big wool blanket. Nikolai was wrapped in a giant swastika banner, which he'd ripped off of a balustrade. Takeo wore three different coats from the costume closet. The 18th century frock was the most striking part of his ensemble, with sleeves so big he seemed to be shrinking.

Of course, the doctor refused to be a part of this. No one knew where he was.

It was dead silent aside from the crackling fire, and Nikolai's splashing vodka. Snow did that somehow. It muffled everything, making the silence even quieter. Even stranger was the lack of screaming zombies. It was oddly unsettling, putting everyone on edge.

"Anyone else feel weird without the maggots around?" Tank finally asked.

Nikolai chuckled. "Never thought I would say this, but… I miss the hellpigs."

Takeo was quiet, watching the fire. "Security is the greatest enemy," he murmured. "We must be ever watchful."

"Amen to that," agreed Tank. "Who knows… They might mutate or something." He shuddered.

Kitty nudged him with her shoulder. "Don't worry," she teased. "I'll protect you."

"My hero," Tank said, fluttering his eyelashes. She smacked him in the arm.

"Stop making me jealous," growled Nikolai. "I have only my vodka to hold."

Tank chuckled, leaning toward him. "She won't let me hold much," he said in a loud whisper.

"Oh my god," groaned Kitty, elbowing him in the rib.

Nikolai was belly-laughing, his face red from the vodka. "Tank gets the girl, but not really!"

Kitty scowled at both of them, huddling deeper into her blanket. "You two are unbelievable."

"What?" bellowed Nikolai. "I need to think of something to stay warm at night. Is cold in here."

She was shaking her head, her cheeks bright pink.

"Awww," Tank rumbled, wrapping his arms around her. "Don't worry, Kitty. Your honor's safe with me."

Takeo grunted at that. "Without honor, we are nothing."

Nikolai snorted. "No one wants your honor," he grumbled.

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I couldn't sleep.

It wasn't because I was cold. I was toasty under the blanket with Tank, buttoned up in my coat, warmed by his body heat. But I lay there wide-eyed, my mind racing with thoughts I couldn't decipher. They made no sense in my head; just mixed-up jumbles of words and pictures that meant nothing.

Only sleeplessness.

I sighed.

Tank stirred at the sound, making a growly noise. "You okay?" he asked, still mostly asleep.

I closed my eyes. "Yeah," I whispered.

He moved closer to me, wrapping me in his arms.

I stared out at the theater, frustrated. All I wanted was to drift off, get some shut-eye. Of course the one night this was actually an option, I was stuck with these racing thoughts. No zombies, no sleep. Go figure.

When Tank was snoring softly, I wriggled free of his arms, slipping out from under the blanket. I wrapped my little blanket around my shoulders, poking the fire a bit. Then I walked to the edge of the stage and sat down, dangling my legs off the side.

It was cold. My breath clouded in front of me, thick and white. I closed my eyes, smelling the smoke of the fire, the chill of the snow.

The silence was heavy. Still. So quiet I could almost feel it.

I smiled to myself. "Silent night," I breathed, so soft that I could barely hear it.

"Stille nacht," whispered a voice below me.

I jerked in terror, breaking out into a cold sweat. "Richtofen?" I hissed, squinting down off the stage.

There he was, sitting close by my right foot.

He didn't look up at me. He just kept staring out at the theater, completely quiet.

My heart was pounding. I tried to calm myself down. Jesus Christ… Now I'd never get to sleep.

"Unable to shleep?" he asked, right on cue.

I closed my eyes. "Doesn't look like you're doing any better," I murmured, my heart still pumping adrenaline.

He was quiet. "Is Dempshey an inadequate…" he paused, amused. "… Heat source?"

I pressed a hand to my forehead, speechless. Seriously? Was this the topic of the evening or something?

"I just can't sleep," I mumbled.

"Ah, pity," he murmured. "Ze minions are quiet tonight." He sighed. "I miss zhem."

I knew he meant it. "I don't," I said, and I meant it too.

"Do you not find glory in zheir pain?" he asked softly.

I shook my head. "I kill them because I don't want to die."

"Und you never enjoy zheir deaths?"

I frowned. "No. I mean, I guess sometimes. But that's because they're disgusting."

"So disgusting zhings deserve death," he whispered.

"No," I said quickly. "That's not what I meant."

"Zhen vhy are you sometimes happy to see zhem die?"

I thought about it for a moment. "I don't know," I said quietly. "I just… am. I guess I'm relieved that they're gone, that they can't keep coming to get me." I bit my lip.

"Und vhen you kill many of zhem at once… Zhat does not please you?"

I closed my eyes.

Yes. It did please me. He knew it, too.

"I guess I'm just happy to kill them sometimes," I whispered.

"Ah," he sighed. "... So you do rejoice in zheir deaths." He paused.

When he spoke again, he was breathless. "Und does zhis knowledge disturb you?" he whispered.

I frowned, squeezing my eyes shut tighter.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Because you worry zhat you may seem monstrous," he murmured.

"Yes," I breathed. My heart hurt. "But I'm not a monster."

I heard him breathe, deep and calm.

Then he was quiet.

The silence overwhelmed us for a long moment, thick and enveloping.

Finally, he spoke. "Do you understand now?" he asked, his voice low and soft.

I shivered. "I think I'm starting to," I whispered.

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It snowed for the next few days.

The dead were frozen solid in the streets, unable to attack, so the group decided to make themselves useful by doing other things. Handy with a hammer, Tank boarded up cracks around the theater, trying to keep out a little more of the cold. Takeo cleaned up all the remaining corpses, tossing them out into the snowy street. Kitty went into town to scrounge for supplies, returning with parcel upon parcel of food, tools, and blankets. Nikolai looked for more vodka.

Richtofen was absorbed in his work on the teleporter. He'd lock himself up in the projector room for hours, coding equations, emerging only to test them on the teleporter itself. When he wasn't doing that, he was lurking in various parts of the building, collecting papers. He was always reading these papers. He brought a pile of them everywhere he went.

"I think Richtofen needs to relax," Nikolai grumbled, watching him pace around the stage.

"Good luck with that," chuckled Tank.

All things considered, the doctor seemed to be making progress. No one else really knew what he was doing, but the teleporter was definitely changing. When Richtofen turned it on, it no longer zapped with erratic energy. Now, the flow was stable, and significantly quieter.

It was the fourth day of the snow, and the group was sitting onstage around the fire. Tank was trying to teach everyone how to play rummy. It was an incredibly frustrating process.

"No, Nikolai, Jesus fuck," he groaned. "Listen to me this time. Look, Tak gets it."

Kitty was opening cans of food, passing them out to the guys. They were so involved in the cards, they barely noticed.

She frowned, opening a fourth can. "Has anyone seen the doctor today?" she asked.

Tank shook his head. "Hell if I know. Probably locked up in his chambers."

"I think he went upstairs," Nikolai suggested, squinting at a hand of cards. "Maybe to find books."

Kitty grabbed the can of food, sticking a spoon in it. Then she got to her feet, brushing off her butt.

Tank frowned. "Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna find him. I haven't seen him eat anything lately."

"Why?" Tank asked, scoffing. "He's a grown man, he can feed himself."

Somehow, she doubted that. "I'm gonna find him," she repeated, determined.

Tank was staring at her now, abandoning the rummy instruction. He looked disturbed. "Kitty… I feel like you're forgetting who you're dealing with here. I mean, this is Richtofen we're talking about. He'd sooner stab you with that spoon than eat off of it."

"I really don't think that's true," she said softly, looking into his eyes.

Tank shook his head. "I'm not comfortable with this," he said, frowning.

Kitty frowned back. "Well that's too bad."

He stared at her, stunned. "So you're just gonna go?"

"Yeah, I am," she said, utterly serious.

Tank was quiet for a moment, looking at her like she'd grown a second head. He blinked, running a hand through his short-cropped hair. "I just… I thought you hated the guy as much as I did," he murmured, confused.

She sighed. "Look, Tank, don't worry about it. So I'm bringing food to Richtofen. So what? We all need to eat." She touched his shoulder, rubbing gently. "It's no big deal," she said, sliding her hand down to squeeze his.

He shook his head, pulling away. "I don't trust him," he muttered. "I don't like you going to find him, and I'm not gonna be okay with it, no matter what you say."

"Okay," she said, a little bit hurt, but completely understanding. She took a breath. "That's your opinion, and I respect it."

For some reason, that made him furious.

"He's fucking insane!" Tank yelled. "I can't believe you want to go take care of that … freak," he spat. He exhaled sharply. "Damn it, Kitty," he said, closing his eyes, trying to calm down. "I mean, he's a fucking monster. He deserves to starve."

Unbidden, she flashed back to the night in the dressing room.

There was Richtofen, sobbing on the floor. Reaching out to her. Blinking blindly in the moonlight, lost in the twisted labyrinth of his own mind.

Tears came to her eyes. She could barely speak.

"No one deserves that," she said, her voice low. "No one."

Then she turned on her heel and left.

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