Chapter XX: Terror Like No Other


AN:

Hey there, Fan-fic-folks!

See previous note - this is a two chapter upload. Also, some stuff in this chapter that's been a long time coming. Let me know what you think!

Thanks for reading and, as always, please review.


I sat limply on the ground and looked up at the hobo dude across from me. My newfound floor-couch was as comfortable as I had always thought the sidewalk would be and stank like the mosh pit at a Firewalk Concert. I wondered if my eyes looked as defeated as I felt. Another dead fucking end. Another creeped out guy that absolutely wasn't the girl I was looking for. "Turns out, lotta fans of Clint Eastwood in Portland."

He nodded. His skin looked like it was full of cobwebs and heroin and not much else. "Yeah man. Right on. Totally right."

"And you didn't tell me that shit?" I tried to keep the aggression and sheer fucking pissed-off-ed-ness out of voice. It turned out how it always did.

He shrugged. The movement creaked, like a spooky old house. So fucking creepy. I internally grinned. So fucking cool. Wait, no, I'm angry at this asshole! "You wanted to find the Stranger."

"Yeah, like the fucking vigilante," I yelled. You failure, Price. "not some sad, middle aged dickbag in a poncho!"

"Wait, you wanted to find the Vigilante?" He paused, then nodded to himself slowly. "Man, that makes so much more sense."

Oh for the love of Axel Rose.

"Yeah, so..." I paused, took a very deep breath. Closed my eyes. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Right. "Can you help me?"

"Totally! Of course! Can do!" He opened his mouth fully. If he'd've had teeth, I'd've called it a smile. My inner horror nerd squee'd in joy at how creepy this fuck was. "You wanna find my man Stan! He knows all about the Stranger. They're totally dope."

Fuckin' A. Finally.


*flashback begins*

The base buzzed like an angry hive. People swept passed by in every direction, so fast even she could only catch snippets of conversation. "-finally taking it to the bastards!"

"The Stranger will keep us safe from the guns!"

"Stranger protect us."

Max stared at each and every last one of them, her composure utterly lost, and the bundle of feathers by her side openly laughed, a high chirping bark. Max turned to her, face open in sheer horror. "What the hell was that?"

"You haven't heard? They started doing it after your... third or fourth successful suicide mission? You know, that one where you single-handedly saved an entire army from Prescott attacks?" Rell's voice was dry, but the amusement still leaked through it. Max growled. The other woman was definitely enjoying this far, far too much.

"We've been gone for three months - they didn't do any of..." She flailed her hands around before gesturing vaguely to the passing offshoots who were still saying that blasted phrase peppered in with their operational concerns for the battle ahead. "-that in the Northern Islands!"

Rell raised an eyebrow. "Considering our little... misadventure up there, I'm quite sure they'll start. Not to mention where we're heading now."

Oh Gods. She was right. Max swore, loudly and inventively.

Rell just laughed. As Max calmed, she leaned in and rested her feathered head against Max's shoulder, as she'd done so many nights on their last assignment. Max grumped wordlessly, but signed and let her stay. The smell of feathers drew her in, some comforting feeling of old, well-worn jumpers warming in front of a roaring fire. "So, do you think we can really finish this?"

Max paused. Rell's question was... big. "I don't know. But I think we need to try."


It's hard to describe, the sound of a battlefield. Poets will often describe the drumming of gunfire, and the melody of marches. Generals and attendants will cite decibels and measurements. Braggarts tell stories of the cheers of victory and the screams of enemies.

If anyone had asked Max, she'd have described it like a storm. Roaring thunder and crackling lightning and the screams of people just holding on as best they can, buffeted by both.

And this battle was one hell of a storm.

The barrels of the Prescott emplacements fired without pause, and the gunfire and screams from the plain below showed exactly how their ragtag rebellion was faring against the Mountain. The Hunter shook at its cage, practically salivated at the sight. Monster.

Valli surveyed it all from her right with a pleased smile. Rell stood to her left, looking... horrified. "We're getting closer!"

"We're getting massacred." Max corrected, giving another shake to the Hunter's cage. It didn't quiet, not even for a moment. The sound of bodies throwing themselves into the grinder was too much for it to resist. The smell too strong.

"For now. But their sacrifices will pay off! We've nearly pushed to the Abattoir, look!" He gestured broadly to the sloping, familiar mound of corpses that she knew hid the entrance to the tunnels below. "You and the infiltration team are ready to take out those defences?"

Max shrugged. "As ready as we'll ever be."

He grinned. "That's the spirit! We'll have this place taken down in no time - and all those people down there will know they've fought for a better world for themselves."

Max didn't outwardly snort, but it was a very close shot. Instead, she stalked away from the fool revolutionary and began rounding up her specially picked troops to get moving. A faint, feathered touch on her shoulder was her only warning before she was suddenly wrapped up in Rell. She froze. The feeling was... alien, but so familiar. Something about it tickled feather-light at the edge of her memory.

After a moment, quick as she'd arrived, Rell withdrew. She looked down at the ground, scraping one foot along the floor in another motion so purely familiar that it almost floored Max. After a moment, the muscles in her neck tensed and the bird-woman looked up, eyes piercing into Max with a force she hadn't had directed at her before. "You will come back. Understood?"

Max blinked. "What?"

"I said-" Rell swept in again, but this time sharp talons held Max's head tight and still so she couldn't avoid Rell's eye. "You will come back. Understood?"

Max nodded, utterly befuddled. After another awkward moment of being held, Rell gave a nod of her own, then released her. She took a breath, then leaned in and kissed Max on the cheek. Said cheek immediately flared redder than the sunset. "Good." Rell said, before flapping off back to Valli.

Max stared. What.

Images flashed through her mind from the last three months. Evenings sat together. Mornings spent working. Meals taken talking.

Oh.

Oh!

Oh. Well then. She'd better come back, hadn't she?


Everything was humid, and both Max and the Hunter could taste the iron in the air. The sheer density of the cause meant the air was acrid with the scent, burning painfully at her nostrils. She climbed onward, trying not to think of what she was climbing up as the Hunter rattled at its cage once again. Her comrades were having less luck with their self-control. Every one of the triplets had already added to the iron smell, spilling rusty vomit over the rotting mounds that made up the Abattoir.

Her handholds... squelched. A messy, pulpy sound.

She shuddered.

After agonising minutes, her eyes sighted, above and to the left. "There!" They all rushed for the entrance, pausing the moment they were out of view of the outside. The Dark pressed in, but it was no obstruction to them.

Max gestured. She'd take point. They'd all stay quiet. They nodded and fell into step behind her.

It took barely a corridor for her to regret everything that'd brought her here. She'd lose half her people just getting in there. The Tunnels would take the rest. But she'd get it done. (The mission came first.) She always did. After another few moments, she gestured again for a stop, and reached down and pulled off her boots. Her feet hit the ground like no time had passed, feeling out the long stretches of cold and still around her.

The triplets took the rear, the other four spreading out to the walls to act like wings to their formation.

There was the briefest change in the air before three shapes launched themselves out of the shadows without a sound. Long, sinewy arms tipped by razor-sharp claws tore through the throats of both of the left wing before either of them could react. Max spun, sword pulled from her sheath in a second as she launched herself toward the Mysters.

Perverse creations, even more so than Ratigan's usual fare. She swept her sword up into the buzzing head of one creature, just in time to prevent the bloated cheeks releasing their gas. Even in full combat mode, she couldn't control the mental shudder at the thought of being under the effects of that stuff again. It was mind manipulation of the worst kind - she should know.

With another twirl and a scream of furious affront from the Hunter, she took off the creature's head and kicked it off into the distance, back up the tunnel they'd come from. They wouldn't be going back for awhile, so there'd be time for the thing to die and dissipate.

She whirled and her blade lunged out, slicing open the squat, thick neck of the second. She turned to face the other, setting her guard to block any strikes - looking up just in time to see it twitch and shudder over the bodies of the two members of the right wing. The bottom dropped out of her stomach. She shoved herself back and covered her mouth with desperate speed. Barely a heartbeat later, the creature exploded into a cloud of gas that rapidly spread out and held in a large, white sphere.

One of the triplets fell from the pale smog, coughing desperately and clawing at himself. His desperate movements got more and more frantic, leaving scratches and marks all over his bare skin, going faster and faster until- He stopped. He stood straight, and looked at her. His eyes were milky white. His pupils were simply gone. Another triplet stepped from the smoke, eyes the same blank white as his brother.

She looked expectantly, waiting for the other to join them. But nobody came.

After a moment, there was a sound from the cloud - a sort of chittering, clicking, textured thing that sent shivers across the skin of all present. Like the ghostly idea of a spider. The two bound blinked and pulled up their swords in smooth, identical motions. They advanced on her. She swore. Loudly.

As they closed the distance, she moved first. She stepped into the first triplet's guard, swerving her body around the creature's first attacks. Left. Right. Left. Left again.

It was quiet, familiar. The pulse of the fight.

The hunter was quiet, familiar. The pulse of the hunt.

The moment she was in reach of his unarmoured sides, she struck - a sharp, swift jab to the kidneys. The triplet was unfazed, but the smoke squealed. She grinned, wolf-sharp. The link was strong. These creatures must be newly made. Excellent.

Ratigan would be far angrier if she destroyed them.

She brought up her sword, then let out a sigh. She dropped the blade. It landed on the ground with an echoing clatter. The chittering from the cloud grew louder and more... excited. The two triplets did not drop their blades.

She blew forward; the triplets answered her charge with their own, taking long and loping steps toward her. At the same moment, both of them struck. The Hunter's Cage snapped open.

The Hunter flashed to the left, and she could feel the air sliced by the edge of the blade as it slid past her side. Another dodge, back out of reach, took her away from the other triplet's strike. As she'd retreated from the cloud, the two slid a foot back and set their stance in a solid, strong guard position. They were going to wait for her to strike this time.

She'd quite happily indulge them. She leapt forward, calling on a bit of her Prescott Gifts and grinning as she felt her heart rate increase, her muscles tense, and her body ready itself. The first twin dodged forward, sliding past her.

The other took advantage of her misstep and stabbed forward. Not that she saw the strike, only felt the blade as it slid greedily into her flesh. She let out a gasp, and the two triplets grinned. In a flash, her hand was down and clamped on the hilt of the blade buried in her belly and holding tight. The triplet tried to wrench the blade free - no luck.

She grinned, and it was almost as bloodied as her wound. She twisted her torso back and the Triplet's grip slipped. She left the sword in her stomach. She picked up her own. Her eyes glinted with satisfaction. Pride. Hunger.

She returned the first triplet's strike with a belly-blow of her own and it fell to the ground as the cloud screamed and chittered. The second fell equally quickly, a new smile across their throat to match the old that had always, always annoyed the Hunter. In her anger, she wrenched free the sword from her belly and stepped forward. The taste of freedom mingled with the taste of the blood and the Hunter launched herself into the cloud, both swords extended with the points forward.

As the gas leaked into her mouth and pores and every other vulnerability it could, the Hunter screamed and screamed and the voices slowly leaking into her head had to fight to be heard. Surrender, they said. Give up, they crooned. Just obey, they begged. Don't. Please. No.

And the voices stopped. The screams trailed off. Max looked up into the cold, black eyes of the creature, wide with shock, then she looked slowly down to the two blades buried to the hilt in the Myster's abdomen. Her mouth split into a wide, pleased grin.

She managed two steps before her legs gave out.

The last thing she saw before she blacked out was a familiar logo on an unfamiliar form, throwing the body of the final triplet at her feet. "Max? My. Dr Moreau will be so very pleased to have you back."

Dimly, she felt a hand wrap around her foot and slowly begin to drag her away.

*flashback ends*


I stepped off the bus and walked toward the beach, feeling just... unbridled confusion. The sun was high in the sky, but just starting to set, and the beach was hotter than I'd been in a while.

I looked back down at the phone in my hand, trying to work out where on Earth 'the eastmost bit of the middle of north-west South Bay' actually is. I found South Bay quickly enough - turned out to be named after Franklin South, not after its location, which was North of Arcadia Bay. Who comes up with these things?

I had no warning as a lanky cali-girl slammed into me, wrapping her arms around me with a quiet shriek of joy. "Max! you came!"

"Of course I did. How could I not, with such clear directions." I muttered into the shoulder my face was now trapped in. Not that I couldn't push her off. It's just... Shut up.

She laughed, high and delighted and ever so slightly manic in a way that managed to actually unsettle me. Was something wrong? "Are you... okay?"

She paused, looked at me with a terrifyingly large smile. "Okay? I'm great! Just... come on over here! I set up a spot for us." She didn't wait for me to follow, just grabbed my hand and I let myself be dragged over. I could feel her skin beneath my hand. She was slightly sweaty, and I think she'd used too much of some kind of handwash because her hand was ever so slightly scented with something that tickled my nose. Honestly, it was kind of gross.

But, I guess it was nice too. I could feel the life in her, beating beneath the skin. She was just so... vibrant. It's nice, being close to people. When you're not on a tropical island acting as some rich guy's personal fiefdom, anyway.

Rachel squeezed my hand.

"So, what do you think?" She asked, her voice wavering ever-so-slightly.

"Wowzer."

I just stared openly at her little set-up, a couple of blankets laid over each other on the sand to give a decent amount of space to sit, a little basket beside them and a small mound of sticks in front. My attention was drawn back to the baffling girl next to me as she openly squeezed my bicep (with her hand that wasn't in mine - she was still holding my hand!) and beamed. Good. She was pleased with my... random outburst.

She flashed me another scandalously salacious wink blazing with something I hadn't thought about in... forever. "I will never not be surprised how muscle-ey you are, Cutie."

I blinked. "I climbed a lot of trees on the Island." I offered. That wasn't the real reason - a flash of steel and glass and a wicked-white-smile - but that was the best reason I could tell her. Maybe someday I'd tell her the other one too.

Rachel winked. "I'd like to climb you like a tree."

"What?" I stared at her in confusion. "But I'm barely five feet! There'd be barely any time to climb." A few people had tried to climb Jane at one point - she hadn't appreciated it. There'd been a small craze after that, but I'd never joined in. People-climbing was completely useless, as far as training went.

"Oh, I'm sure you'd last longer the second time." An even more emphatic wink.

I just... what? "I don't get it."

"Oh contraire, Maxie. From what I see, you can definitely get it any time you like."

This time, an eyebrow waggle and a meaningful look and- Light dawns. Oh, I realise. She's making sex jokes.

She laughed.

"Oh. I said that out loud, didn't I?"

She nodded slightly frantically through her rollicking giggles. I began to slowly smile back. I could see her shoulders relaxing as we bantered (was I bantering? this was weird) back and forth for a few minutes - my face got redder and redder with each new sentence she let out. She suddenly braced herself, and led me over to sit down on the blanket.

In a flash, I had an actual glass in my hand filled with a pale liquid. I gave Rachel a glance, and start to say something, but she cuts me off with a smile. "It's not alcohol. I know you don't drink, so I got something apple-ish?" She looked down at the bottle. "Apple and pear flavour, apparently."

Huh. That's... I feel a warmth in my chest. "Sweet."

"Quite tart, actually. Wow. That will certainly clear anyone's sinuses, jesus christ." She coughed a little, and put her glass back down. We both went quiet for a second, the only sound being the light breeze blowing through the trees. It sounded like a whisper. I couldn't help the shudder of recollection.

Rachel noticed immediately. She perked up and shuffled forward toward the pile of sticks. "It's cold out, isn't it? Give me a second, I'll light the fire and we can snuggle." She pulled a lighter from her pocket, smoothly flicking it open as she leant down to the stick pile.

The stick pile that was lopsided, not surrounded by rocks, and generally looked like it would blow away at any moment.

I quickly took the lighter from her hands and set myself down in front of the twigs, picking out a couple of suitable candidates and breaking them into smaller sections. Making a circle of pebbles to contain it was a matter of moments and I'd started assembling the fire. I quickly jogged back over to the treeline and found a few bigger candidates, and gathered some of the drier leaves and bark-bits from the ground and brought them back to the main pile.

Rachel plonked herself down next to me and pouted. "But I was going to be smooth and light a fire for us to sit in front of-"

I laid my hand gently over hers and she stopped talking immediately. "I appreciate it, but I think we'd both enjoy this more if it didn't end in a forest fire." Her face creased in an expression I totally didn't get, but very much noted down for later because I was fairly certain there was a story there. "Besides, it's been awhile since I lit a fire - the opportunity to do it again is a definite plus."

"Really?"

"Really. Now shush, watch me work." I could already feel the air around the fire heating up. I leaned in, taking a deep breath, then letting out it out into the fire. The fire crackled and popped - the wood must've been less dry than I thought.

But it lit.

I shuffled back from the fire, letting it spit and burn, and went back to sit next to Rachel.

"So, you um... wanted to talk to me?"

She took a deep breath, and even I picked up on the confidence she was drawing into herself as she build up to saying something. "Max, I... I really like you. I can be myself around you - my real self, not the... performance I put on for most people. Those quiet nights, when we were sat out under the stars chatting? I just..." Her cheeks were red, but her jaw was firm and she was maintaining a steady eye contact with me. I couldn't look away. "I could get used to doing this... more. If you wanted?"

I stayed quiet. What could I say? What should I say?

She looked away, out onto the horizon. I could see her curling in on herself more and more with every second of silence. Finally, she broke it. "Say something? Please?"

She looked back.

I was gone.


*flashback begins*

"Wakey wakey, Max!" She came to in a panic - she tried to scream, but the sound was muffled by the tube down her throat and the gag over her mouth. Her eyes flew about her, trying to take in everything she could.

She couldn't describe the feeling when her eyes met those of the person speaking. They were wearing a thick white overcoat, faintly stained with specks of red. It was blood - she could smell it. The smock was strapped tightly around the thighs and biceps, where bandoliers of blades and equipment were secured.

Thin lips under a thin moustache smiled. "Welcome back, my most supreme creation! Though I was hard-pressed to recognise you! You've certainly let yourself go, in the months since your little 'jailbreak'." His fingers ran gracefully across her sides and up to cradle her face. "Though I have added some upgrades, which should more than make up for the barbarism of those pathetic organisms outside this mountain."

Max growled and tried to launch herself at the bastard. To bite at his hands. But the bindings were too tight, and the throat tube was very secure. Ratigan always had been thorough.

He gently patted her cheek, even as she struggled and swore. "Now now, my dear. No need to thank me. We'll get you re-paired with your Myster Unit and everything will be alright again. Wouldn't it be nice to be at peace? No more worries, no more doubts - just the certainty of a goal and the route to complete it."

He turned and strode from the room. She worked at her throat and mouth, trying to bring up enough saliva to spit at him. She couldn't, but she felt something in her stomach move. Dog. Had he..? No. He wouldn't need to. The realisation brought no small relief. But it begged the question. What had he done to her this time?

The sheer panic had her activating her powers on pure instinct - her muscles began to stretch and her body started to morph to the familiar fast, lean form. At the last moment, everything cramped and she screamed enough that she choked on the tube.

Her stomach pulsed emptily. The familiar pang of starvation. Her gifts would be near-impossible to draw on, at this stage. She cursed the Prescotts in every way she could think of. The worst thing about going up against the people who'd designed her, she supposed. Not that it would make her stop fighting, of course - the day she'd escaped, she'd made a vow that she wouldn't ever break.

But for the moment, there was nothing she could do. She simply had to wait for an opportunity. She let herself fall back, the bindings holding her firm. And then, she slept.


She awoke with a start. She awoke to Ratigan, humming happily as he examined the equipment read-outs around her. "Welcome back from the realm of Morpheus, Max. You will be glad to know that your body is accepting the upgrades fully - no sign of rejection whatsoever!" He laughed freely, clapping his hands together like a small child. "You really are my finest achievement!"

"What upgrades?" She asked - or tried to ask, in reality. The equipment made it impossible to enunciate and it came out as more of a garbled mumbling. Somehow Ratigan knew. He always did. He gave her a small, approving smile at her curiosity. The scientific mind should always be curious and unrestricted, as he was prone to say - and to pontificate on at length.

"Well, as you know - or knew, before your little field trip-" His thin lips curved into a teasing smile, all the more cruel-seeming for its genuine amusement. "-you were designed to be the perfect infiltrator. You move fast, you travel light, and you hit like a scalpel to carve out imperfections!" He ratatat-ed his fingers along his own medical blades with a small laugh. "However, your strength is limited. Without significant energy and after a short time of exertion, you will weaken and be unable to draw on your abilities - I could not allow this oversight to continue! I added several glands to your arms that will store kinetic energy and allow you to use it to fuel some of your more demanding abilities." He ran his hands along her arms, tapping lightly at certain points that she assumed the glands sat in.

"Now, I know what you're thinking - why would I make you even stronger with the possibility of you 'going walkabout' once again?" He gave me an almost chiding look. "I am willing to forgive your trespasses, Max, but I have to be sure of your dedication to our scientific venture together. In this, I took some inspiration from our mutual acquaintance, Ms Waller." He clapped his hands together, the sound echoing through the cold, clinical space. Max didn't jump. "An incompetent fool, but she certainly has some interesting ideas. So, you now have several small... 'storage pockets' scattered throughout your body that I have filled with explosive or toxic elements."

"Look at me, monologuing like this." His tone filled with wry disgust. "I apologise for dumping all this exposition on you like this - I do remember your preference for the practical, Max." He singsonged his last addition, that playful remark. She squirmed under the reminder of who this man was to her.

He gave her sides another caress, and it felt like spiders running over her skin. Ratigan was a foul bastard. "You will need to be tested, of course - I would hardly like to send a new prototype out into the world without satisfactory measures being taken to ensure its survival. Ms Waller will not be taking your training this time - I will see to it personally."

She smiled. Training meant a release from her bindings, and release meant opportunity. Her vow did not preclude her from patience, after all.

*flashback ends*


"-oof! What the hell?!"

I left the guy on the ground and kept walking. It just kept playing over and over in my head. Had been for hours now. Rachel's voice, gentle and sweet and salaciously amused, taunted me again and again.

What she said... did she mean it? Could she mean it? And if she did, if she could? What would that mean? Wowzer.

Oh, I'm here. I can stop thinking about this.

The familiar logo towered over the row of glass doors, open-front to the reception inside. I looked up at it for a few long minutes. A few people exited, flowing around me without even looking at me. It looked like the reception area was empty. Time to get to work.

I turned and started sprinting down a side alley, calling on some of my power to leap up to the fire-escape and scramble in through the window. I looked left and right down the placid corporate corridor. Clear of people, though I could hear some moving about down the hall. Night shift, maybe?

I set off at a jog - today, I would unravel another thread of secrets in the Prescott web.