Whoo! Finally got the next chapter out! It has been a while! Hope you all get a good laugh! ;)

Madeleine gripped the furry, cheetah-print cover on her steering wheel as she eyed the building in front of her suspiciously. A small part of her was afraid to enter after her 'experience' last night. The fear relieved her, however. It meant there was still part of her that could be considered 'sane'. Despite Dr. Sigmund's assurances that she was ready to take on the big, bad world outside, Madeleine always worried that it was too soon. Worse, that she'd never be ready.

Entering the world had meant foster care and, she shuddered here, high school, and that reality had been difficult enough. Now, she had hallucinations to contend with – large, hulking hallucinations of murderous robotic rabbits with rotten fur that smelled of death and decay. Maddie scoffed, shaking her head. She was being ridiculous. There had to be an explanation for what she saw the previous night and her new meds were very likely it. It certainly wouldn't be the first time, after all.

Madeleine pursed her lips, shoving those memories back down into the dungeon where she stashed every ugly memory she didn't want to deal with. Memories that she refused to share, even with Dr. Sigmund.

No, her meds had to be the culprit, and her altered brain chemistry and the stress of this renovation had her mind deciding to produce delusions upon seeing that broken-down animatronic rabbit in the safe room. Obviously, somewhere in her subconscious she was afraid of taking on such a big project, and it was tormenting her by creating a hallucination that would prevent her from completing her goal.

Well, it wouldn't work. Maddie wouldn't let it. She was stronger than this. I am woman; hear me roar . . . Of course, she could handle this, she told herself, and anything else life threw at her. She wasn't a little girl anymore. No victims here. No siree, Bob!

Sighing, Maddie slumped back against her cheetah-print seat covers, glancing over at her purse. Dr. Sigmund was just a phone call away. She could talk to him and he could write her a different prescription . . . Only, it wouldn't actually work out that way. If she admitted to seeing a giant rabbit that chased her with murderous intent, he would insist she return for a few weeks, weeks she could ill afford being away from her project.

No, she could handle this on her own. She already figured out what the problem was and that was the hard part. She would probably be nervous about her new business venture until she got the place up and running, so the hallucinations would continue, but that didn't mean that she couldn't just ignore them.

Oh, who am I kidding? Madeleine asked herself. I've never been able to ignore any hallucination.

She frowned as she considered the trouble. Maybe she didn't have to ignore it. She had all kinds of experience taking over her dreams. Therapy sessions had taught her that much, giving her a certain amount of relief from nightmares. Maybe now, those lessons could help her take control of the 'waking dreams' brought on by her 'Don't-Be-Crazy' medication.

Perhaps later, when she had most of the renovations completed and the building was livable, she would give Dr. Sigmund a call. Just not right now when she couldn't spare the time.

Maddie jumped when her cell phone buzzed in her purse. She leaned over the armrest to rummage through her bag, bypassing the bricks she hadn't bothered to remove from the other night, retrieving her phone from the hidden inner pocket. Reading the text, she rolled her eyes. It was just another complaint text from Roger. Supposedly, she had left a wet spot in the bathroom when she took her shower this morning and he'd slipped on it, "nearly busting my head on the sink," he whined.

Well I nearly got strangled by a deranged, blood-thirsty rabbit. Top that, you big wimp! She nearly replied. Madeleine snorted, tossing her phone back into her purse.

She hadn't uttered a single word to Roger about what happened to her the previous night. Despite what her psychiatric profile said, Maddie wasn't crazy. She knew, without a doubt, he wouldn't have taken it well. The man was the most closed-minded, straight-laced person she ever met. He would have likely insisted she finish the demolition project and demand to sell the lot, then, he would shove her medications in her face and call Dr. Sigmund himself.

Determination filling her, Madeleine yanked her keys from the ignition and slid out of her car, picking up her purse with her 'secret weapon' inside from the passenger seat.

Putting the whole "creepy rabbit didn't exist" decision, out of her head, Madeleine was pragmatic, preferring to err on the side of caution. Just in case her hallucinations weren't really hallucinations after all . . . Maddie patted the bulge in her handbag confidently, smiling. She came prepared.

Closing the car door with a bump of her hip, Maddie locked it up, and made her way to the back entrance. Spotting four cars parked on the other side of the lot, telling her that seven of her construction workers were already here. Drat, they were here earlier than she had expected. Madeleine hoped Turtle wouldn't spook them. Already she had lost a couple of inspectors that had caught sight of him just lying around in the hallways. He had already freaked out the city's building inspector.

She needed to be smart about this. She needed to be stealthy. She had no idea if Turtle had killed her crew and was lying in wait for her to get here. Maddie shook her head. No . . . He was a hallucination. She was almost sure of it.

Despite this, Madeleine leaned her ear to the old metal door, listening for any sounds of chaos. To her relief, there was none. She pressed her back against the brick wall, reaching out with one hand to push open the door then palmed her weapon.

She couldn't hear the sounds of construction from here. Did that mean that the rabbit had succeeded in killing everyone? Or was everyone working in the lobby? She might not be able to hear them from here. Better to be cautious. The blasted bunny had been intent on her demise last night. He would learn she was no easy victim. She had come prepared.

She slipped silently through the back door and made her way to the safe room door. A quick glance in told her that the mechanized rabbit wasn't back in his usual spot.

Was he still in the room with the tables and chairs? Could he still be stuck on his back even now, hours later? Madeleine's lips twitched in amusement at the memory of psycho-rabbit's impersonation of a turtle last night. Her smile faded when she considered the possibility that he could be up and actively hunting/murdering her construction crew, however.

Clinging to the wall, Maddie peered into rooms as she made her way toward the sounds of construction. It could be the crew working on the lobby, but . . . what if the sounds she heard were actually the rabbit pounding skulls or dismembering the crew with their own power tools?

Would he eat them?

Nah, she decided, immediately tossing that idea aside. He was a machine. Machines don't eat. Although, she thought, it would explain the smell of death that seemed to follow him around.

The workers were scheduled to open up the ceiling in the new lobby to create the grand entry and concession area that she adored, just like the ones in the grand theaters of the Hollywood era. Her plans, however, would include a game room as well, so kids could have a place to hang out after school and between movie showings. Maddie was anxious to see the progress made, but a part of her was afraid she would be walking into a massacre.

The fear brought unwelcome memories and Maddie quickly squashed them back in the box in the back of her mind. She didn't go there – ever! This was different, she told herself. She was different, no longer a child, no longer helpless. She cocked her weapon, ready for anything.

Peering around the doorframe, Maddie discovered that her tormentor was missing from here as well. So, he had managed to get himself up off his back after all. That meant he could be anywhere in the building. Her nose crinkled. It smelled even worse in here than it had last night, like vomit. Ugh! Would that smell ever go away?

Ignoring the odor as best she could, Maddie tried to think of where an animatronic that large could hide. Not many places now that so many walls had been pulled down and most of the demolished material had been discarded.

A loud bang interrupted her thoughts, followed by a shrill masculine scream.

The rabbit! She knew it! Without her around to distract the robot, he was attacking her construction crew.

Maddie crossed the room, zig-zagging around all the fallen tables and chairs as fast as she could to reach the door that she had escaped through the night before. Kicking the door open, Maddie entered the room with a yell, squeezing rounds of water from her Super-Soaker water gun in every direction.

The chattering from her workers ceased what they were doing, turning to stare at her in question. Madeleine spun around, searching for the enemy, slowing only when it was obvious the animatronic wasn't there. She noted one of the men was standing over the cooler holding ice on his thumb.

"Uhm, Ms. Ward? Are you alright? Can I help you find something?" The worker named Tom asked her.

Maddie sighed, lowering her water gun. "I – um, I heard a scream," she muttered lamely. "I thought that . . . Oh, never mind."

Tom nodded. "That would have been Jerry. He hit his thumb with his hammer. Just a minor accident, nothing to worry about," he assured her.

"Oh, okay," she smiled, "That's good to know." She waved at the injured Jerry. "How's your thumb?"

Jerry returned the smile uncertainly as he watched the client tuck the water gun back into her bag. "I'll live. Thanks."

"Ms. Ward? Can I help you?" Tom asked politely.

"Well, as a matter of fact," she said, "I'm looking for Turtle. I haven't been able to find him anywhere."

Tom's bushy brown eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "A . . . turtle?" He glanced around the room as if he might spot the errant reptile. "Uh, no ma'am. I haven't seen any turtles about. How 'bout you fellas? See any turtles?"

A chorus of 'no's' sounded out from around the room.

Suddenly, Maddie laughed. "Oh, sorry. He's not a real turtle. That's just the name I gave him. What I meant was that I'm looking for the animatronic that we found in the safe room the other day. He's not there anymore."

The man's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "The animatronic . . .?"

"Yes. He stands about so tall," Madeleine told him, standing on her tiptoes and holding her hand up as high as she could reach. "Kind of a yellowish-green with holes all over the place. Half of one of his ears is missing and he has an eye hanging out of its socket. Smells like a dead squirrel. I had planned to fix him up and make him into a kind of mascot for the place, but I can't seem to find him anywhere." A lock of dark-golden hair slipped out of the messy bun she wore, falling into her eyes. Maddie blew it out of her eyes as she waited for Tom to respond.

"Ooooh?" Tom's eyes widened and he glanced nervously at one of the men Maddie knew was named Brian.

"You wouldn't happen to have seen him anywhere, would you? He's kind of hard to miss."

Tom shrugged a shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I, um . . . might have seen him."

Her eyes widened. "You did? Did you see which way he went?"

Tom's face scrunched in confusion. "What? Oh, he had a little help . . . Going, I mean."

"So, it was you who helped him up." Madeleine determined. That made sense. He couldn't get up on his own when she left him last night.

"You could say that," Tom cleared his throat.

Maddie grinned at him. "I just did."

"What?" he looked at her, confused.

"Say that," she clarified.

He snorted, amused despite the surreal feeling to this conversation. "Well, come on, then. Follow me if you want to see where your rabbit robot went."

He led the way back outside to the dumpster where he and Brian had thrown the rabbit. Tom glanced at Maddie, trying to judge her reaction from her expression, but she just stared at the rusted green dumpster looking more confused than he felt.

". . . I don't get it," she said after a long moment of silence.

"Yeah, well, you see . . ." he began.

"No, not really." Madeleine blurted.

Chuckling, Tom took off his helmet, running a hand over his bald head. "One of the crew members and I stumbled upon it when we got here and well, it was just so beat up . . ." he shrugged, feeling awkward under her gaze. "We just kind of assumed it was just part of the trash," he admitted, then burst out, "If we had known you'd wanted the thing, I swear, we wouldn't have touched it."

"He." Madeleine corrected.

"Excuse me?"

"He's not an 'it.' He's a 'he'," she explained.

Tom peered over the edge of the dumpster at the scrap of metal in question. "Huh. So, how can you tell?"

It was Maddie's turn to snort as she rolled her eyes. "I looked at his little robot bits."

Tom frowned. "Really?" He couldn't help looking. "I don't recall seeing any of those."

She laughed at him. "I was kidding. Now, do you think you can help me get him out of there?"

"Oh, yeah," he chuckled along with her hesitantly. "It's . . . Um, I mean, he's a bit heavy. I'm going to need to get a couple of the guys to help me."

"Well, don't just stand there. Go grab someone!" Madeleine shooed him towards the door.

Although, he didn't exactly run, Tom hurried away with enough speed to satisfy her. As soon as he disappeared through the door, Maddie turned back to the dumpster and set her bag on the ground. She was too short to see without climbing the side of the dumpster and she really wanted to see for herself.

It took a bit more upper body strength than she realized she would need. Madeleine grunted as she gripped the lip of the metal bin, her pink work boots scrambling along the sides, marking up the green paint with streaks of dirt and dust from the site. I'm bottom heavy, she thought disgustedly as she hauled her upper body over the edge. Time to diet.

The smell hit her first even before her eyes spotted bits and pieces that was her animatronic rabbit. It did tend to make one's eyes water, she decided, blinking the tears away. She spotted two metal arms and a rusted metal leg peeking out from beneath layers of old drywall, chunks of plaster, and rotting insulation. Apparently, the building hadn't been in much better shape than robo-bunny. An empty bucket of spackle covered most of his head with only the broken eye and good ear in view.

"So, there you are," Maddie said, removing the bucket and tossing it aside. Gypsum powder coated his dingy, mottled fur and was caked in his empty eye socket. Cleanup was going to be a real bother, she thought with a sigh.

"Still in one piece, are you?" she muttered, assessing the damage. "Although, just barely. If I had any brains, I'd leave you here. You'd better appreciate all the trouble you're putting me through. You hardly deserve being rescued, though, after the hard time you gave me last night."

Huh? No answer. Was he being stubborn, or had she hallucinated the conversation they'd had yesterday? Some conversation . . . The dumb bunny had done nothing but issue threats.

"Are you pouting, or can you really not talk?" she asked.

The lights in his eyes were out, she noted. He must have shut down at some point. Glancing at the empty doorway first – she didn't want the crew to overhear this – Maddie leaned closer. She used his ear to turn the rabbit's head to face her.

"Okay, let's make this clear, you know? Just so you understand . . . This was so not my fault!" she told him firmly. "So, don't go blaming me later."

She dropped back down to the ground just as help arrived. Tom pushed open the back door, Dale and Mac in tow. Dale ran his eyes over her appreciatively, making Maddie feel the urge to shower. She ignored him as Mac stepped up beside her, frowning.

"Having a bad day?" she asked lightly.

"Not yet," he commented. "But, I must say that I was kind of hoping you had come to your senses and decided to finally get rid of that thing," he commented. He rocked back on his heels, his thumbs hooked on his toolbelt casually as he assessed the situation.

Maddie smiled serenely. "You know better than that."

Mac snorted with laughter, shaking his head. "I do now, ma'am. Now then, let's see if we can't haul that rusted hunk of bolts back out of there for you."

Dale grinned, winking at her as he stepped up to the dumpster. "Always happy to help, little lady," he said, hoisting himself up and over the edge. When he dropped into the bin, it was with a gasp.

"Holy hell in a handbasket!" Dale yelped. He leaned over the side of the dumpster and heaved. It was followed by the sound of his breakfast splattering as it hit the pavement. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Language!" Maddie and Mac snapped simultaneously.

Dale's flirty attitude was nowhere to be seen anymore. "Are you serious about dragging this rotting corpse back into the building?"

Mac frowned. "It's not a rotting corpse. It's a mechanical rabbit. Although, by the smell of it, I'd say he might have a number of critters decomposing inside its torso."

Tom cleared his throat. "Him."

Mac glared at him. "What?"

Tom glanced at Madeleine, then shrugged. "It's a him. Leastwise, that's according to the boss lady."

Madeleine sniffed the air daintily. "It's a little rank, but it's not that bad. I would have thought, being in this business, you'd have smelled a lot worse."

Dale stared at her in disbelief. "Not that bad?"

She shrugged. "It's fixable. I'll take care of it later. Now, can you please get him out of there?"

Mac tilted his hardhat back on his head and shoved his hands into some heavy-duty gloves. "You heard the lady. Get moving. We've got a sh- oh, um, I mean, truckload of stuff to get done today," he told them. Then, in one smooth move, Mac grabbed the rim of the dumpster and swung himself over. The sound of coughing floated out.

"It does tend to make your eyes water, doesn't it?" he remarked, repeating Maddie's thoughts from earlier.

She laughed. "You'll get used to it," she promised.

Tom groaned as he climbed in and positioned himself next. "It smells worse now than it did earlier when we hauled it out here."

"That's because the temperature's rising," Mac told him as he tossed the last of the trash to the side and grabbed an arm. "The heat makes the smell worse."

Dale turned his head and heaved, but there was nothing left in his stomach. Wiping his mouth, he leaned down to grip the animatronic's side. "Can we just hurry. Feeling a little lightheaded here."

"On the count of three," he called out. "One . . . Two . . . Three!"

There was a squeal as metal scraped upon metal, then Turtle appeared to hover a few seconds before he fell to the pavement with a crash. Maddie leapt out of the way with a yelp as the trio of men climbed out afterwards.

"Sorry about that, ma'am," Mac apologized. "I should have brought another couple of my men out to help. Didn't realize how heavy this thing . . . um, he was. Gotta be a good four hundred – five hundred pounds or so." He looked at Madeleine. "You didn't get hurt when it fell, did you?"

"No. You missed me," she said as she kneeled beside the rabbit to check for damage. "I hope you guys didn't break anything."

Dale stretched his back. "Nah. I'm good."

Madeleine looked at him strangely. "I was talking about Turtle," she corrected him.

Mac looked confused. "Turtle?"

"The rabbit," she clarified as if he should have figured that out himself.

"You named the rabbit . . . Turtle?" Dale gaped at her, stopping only when Tom elbowed him in the side. "Ow . . . What? It's a fu- . . . ah, freaking bunny rabbit! Now, skunk, I could understand."

"Shut up and grab a limb," Tom muttered.

Maddie ran ahead to hold the door for them as the three men groaned about the weight.

"Where do you want this thing?" Mac grunted as they passed by.

"Back to the safe room," Madeleine told them.

She slipped past them to lead the way, moving anything in their path out of the way and finally opening the safe room door for them.

"In here. You can prop him against that wall over there," she instructed, pointing to a spot that didn't block her access to the shelves that lined the walls or the door.

Last thing she needed was to trip over him every time she needed in here. Maddie didn't think Turtle would be so helpful as to move himself out of the way for her. She smirked. It was more than likely the rotten rabbit would do his best to make life difficult for her.

She hesitated, wondering if things would be easier if she just allowed Mac and the others to toss him out. She watched them stretch and moan after setting the heavy weight where she had indicated and decided that maybe now wouldn't be a good time to change her mind. Turtle would just have to learn how to behave himself. They had several months of construction ahead of them yet. She could always give him the old heave-ho if he continued to be a nuisance.

And, nothing was a bigger nuisance than when it was trying to kill you.

"So, what do you want us to do with him when we get in here?" Tom asked.

"Work around him." Maddie smiled. Thanking them for their time, she waited patiently until they left the room. As soon as the door closed behind them, she turned back toward Turtle.

He sat there unmoving, sagging against the wall, head hanging at an angle, jaw slack. Much as he had been when she had first found him. Just an inanimate object, a broken toy.

A smelly, broken toy . . . she allowed, wrinkling her nose. Ah, well. Like she told the others, that was fixable. It would probably be the easiest fix to manage, all considering. She pursed her lips as she eyed the metal rabbit for a long moment. After a while, Madeleine kicked his leg.

"So . . . You just going to sit there like a bump on a log or what?"

Nothing. No reaction.

She squatted next to him. "Really? This is the way you want to play it, huh? The silent treatment?"

Maddie waved a hand in front of Turtle's good eye.

"Hey! I'm right here," she snapped. "I'm in reach." Madeleine picked up his hand and placed it on her shoulder. As soon as she let go, it slipped off, clattering as it fell to the concrete floor at her feet. "Gah! You could have strangled me right then and you blew it!"

She tensed, waiting for the light to return to his eye, preparing to throw herself towards safety the moment it moved . . . When nothing happened, she sighed.

"Look. It wasn't my fault. I didn't throw you out. As a matter of fact, I just saved your rusted butt from being crushed and sold for scrap metal. If anything, you owe me!" she told him, grumpy that he was taking this so hard. "It was an accident! I swear, I wouldn't have let them do it. There's no reason for you to pout about it . . ."

Maybe, last night really was a hallucination, after all?

Switching position because squatting was making her thighs burn, Madeleine swiveled around and sat on Turtle's leg. Silly rabbit might as well make himself useful . . . She scowled as she examined his eyeball where it dangled from its wires. Maddie reached up, brushing free the gypsum powder in the socket and studied the problem.

"Okay," she murmured. "I see how this works."

Threading the wires back through the space in the socket, Madeleine popped the eye back into place with a click. She jiggled it, checking to see if the eye fit properly. It was a little loose, she thought. Could fall out again with a bit of prodding. She could see a dent along the edge of the socket that was contributing to the poor fit. If she smoothed that dent out, that would make the eye fit more securely.

"There you go. Better now?" she asked softly. "It's not permanent," she explained, "but I can bring some of my tools from home and make so it is."

Standing up, Maddie dusted the gypsum dust and dirt from her clothes. "No need to thank me," she smirked. "No, really. I mean it. You don't have to say anything."

He didn't.

Biting her lip, Maddie stepped back and considered the animatronic. Just this morning she had been worried about him, wondering if he were going to go on some kind of murderous rampage and kill her and the crew. Now, however . . . The place seemed kind of quiet without the rabbit's angry bellowing. Was she disappointed that he wasn't actually alive?

Maybe a little, she found herself admitting silently.

"I've got to leave now and go back to work. We're going to be opening up the ceiling in the lobby all the way to the roofline tomorrow. It's going to be amazing and very grand when it's done. If you give it half a chance, I think you'll like what I'm doing here," she told him as she backed towards the door. "As for the eye . . ." she began, her voice taking on a warning tone, "Try to kill me again, and next time it comes out, it's staying out. So, you think about that while you sit here, sulking."

She opened the door. "See you later. Try to stay out of the dumpsters in the meantime. Next time, I might not be here to save you."

She winked at him as she left.