Epilogue: From Her Eyes

Kline's POV:

My arms ached as I rubbed the rope that bound them against a splintered section of the chair I was strapped in. I heard footsteps go by my door swiftly, a few chuckles when the feet paused, and those perverted conversations that I never realized most criminals had. I was beginning to wonder if anybody in the creepy crime place I was stuck in was anything other than a rapist. Everyone seemed to be talking about sex, having 'fun' with me, and more sex. I was practically seething with disgust and anger as I rubbed my hands faster.

I had been stuck in that lousy chair for five days, forced into it after I threw a piece of glass at one of the perverted guards. It didn't really hurt him, but nooooo, they seemed to think that their little prisoner needed to be tied down. It would appear that my captors were smarter than they looked. And trust me, most of them looked pretty darn dumb.

The only good thing about my capture was that I had a fairly nice room, compared to the rest of the establishment. My cell had cement walls. There were four privacy windows, one shattered from my failed attempt of escape. Other than my chair, the only other piece of furniture was a crappy cot, which was way too small for me. I was a tall girl, after all. I deserved a queen sized bed at least. But, as it turned out, criminals weren't exactly the nicest people in the world. Major duh on my part.

The rapid clicking of shoes slowed as they passed my door, and then stopped. I sighed, expecting to hear some gross story from a guy about how he had grabbed a chick off the street. But, to my surprise, the only thing I heard was a laugh. People laughed at my door a lot, for some reason. It wasn't a funny door. I wasn't a funny victim. And I definitely wasn't funny looking. There was no reason for them to laugh.

I was completely going to ignore the annoying laughs, but then the door opened. As if my day could NOT have gotten worse. I was almost done with my ropes, too... three people walked in, one person in the center wearing Harry Potter style robes. I snorted at the person's apparel. The other two at least had some style. One would have been a really hot guy, but he completely spoiled his looks by a bunch of tattoos that covered most of his body. He had really nice muscles, though, and absolutely adorable eyes. The other would have been a pretty girl, except that her hair was lime green, up in some weird spikes, and she had a nose ring. I'm sorry, but yuck.

"Well, Miss Kline. I must say, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I have heard much about you," the hooded figure purred. The voice was distinctively female, I noted needlessly. Raising an eyebrow, I smirked.

"Yeah, well. I'm sure that you've heard that I'm beautiful, brilliant, and have a cool blond butt? I have had many guys compliment me on my butt, oddly enough. They say it's cute... or have you heard that I'm the brains behind Christine and I? Because it's true, you know. Christine is a good actress- always passes herself off as smart- but I am everything in the team. She is a sidekick, really," I commented, acting way too arrogant. I always got that way when scared, for some reason.

"Is Christine your little friends name?"

"Yeah."

"Ah, then we shall take you to her gravestone sometime."

I swear, I felt my lung collapse at that precise second. It took me a few, but I managed to breath again soon enough.

"I beg your pardon, Professor McGonagall?" I asked, making a bleak reference to the HP books Christine was so fond of. The cloaked figure laughed.

"Ah, childish humor. Such a delight. What I mean to say is, your friend is quite dead by now. Emily has an excellent shot- if I am correct, Miss Christine has a bullet through her brain at the moment. A nice, large bullet. In fact- Fredrick, Amelia! The television!" McGonagall snapped. The two goons on her sides rushed out of the room, practically stumbling over each other to get out of the room.

"You really think Christine is dead? Then you really underestimate her, lady. Same with Sherlock and Jenny. They're really smart. They'll have caught Emily way before she could even pull that trigger. Christine is just fine..." I said, quelling my fear.

"Ah, is precious Sherlock involved in this? I did not realize at first... what a delightful turn of events this is! I have wanted to meet him for such a long time..." the woman said. I rolled my eyes.

"Ah, shut up already."

Fredrick and Amelia returned right that second, carrying a fairly nice sized portable TV. They set it down and flipped it on, moving right to the news. I waited impatiently for the commercials to end, and then a preppy news reporter came on, in front of the theatre.

"And today we have to report the tragic shooting at this local theatre. Christine Penninger, an American, aged fifteen was shot at today by Miss Emily Vouche, aged nineteen. Thankfully, the only person hurt was a young man named Todd, I believe, who pushed Miss Penninger out of the way at the last possible second. He is in the hospital right now, in stable care.

"Miss Vouche, however, was not so lucky. Scotland Yard later found her in a storage closest, after committing suicide. We have no more facts at present, and we will keep you up-"

The woman snarled and picked up the TV, throwing it against the wall. I was fairly impressed by her strength- she looked wussy enough to me. After a few seconds of spitting in fury, she looked at me (I think, that darn hood was blocking my view).

"How utterly frustrating this is. I think we may have to keep you around for a little while longer," she snapped. I bit back an "I told you so" smile, and merely nodded.

"Hey, since I'm stickin' around for a while, mind if I know your name?" I asked casually. The woman laughed, her voice soaring into a pretty cool arpeggio, if I do say so myself.

"Certainly, dear child."

The woman leaned close to me, and then pulled back the hood of her costume. I winced automatically, looking away.

Her face was hideous, a mass of scars and burns. She had probably been a really pretty woman once, maybe an actress. But now... it was disgusting. She took my chin in her fingers and made me look at her, her eyes glinting maniacally.

"Marie Moriarty."

THE END