Chapter Two: Babes in the Woods
What most people didn't understand, Ivy mused as she carefully repotted a sprouting plant, is that crimes didn't just happen. Oh, yes, there was the occasional housewife that went crazy and stabbed her husband, but the really good ones...she wiped a smear of dirt off the side of the gleaming red pot...the really good ones took planning.
For example, her latest endeavor. She wiped her hands on a towel and gazed proudly at the array of pots and plants in front of her. It had taken days to assemble enough flowerpots to hold the plantlife for this particular venture, not to mention the hours spent walking through the wilderness looking for perfect specimens of species to blend together.
Of course, it would have taken a normal botanist months, perhaps years to put together the particular plant which was taking root in every available piece of dirt now. Ivy grinned and tapped a finger against a glass beaker. The translucent liquid (an immensely powerful fertilizer) inside rippled slightly to her touch. Who needed Miracle-Gro?
She glanced up at the sky through the glass of the greenhouse. The moon beamed down at her, spilling its white light cleanly down on her face. The whiteness of her teeth reflected it back through her green lips as she smiled.
It was time to begin. She strode over to the wall and slipped into her green leather coat. The brisk air hit her face like a slap as she stepped outside the warm greenhouse. She lifted her boots carefully to avoid stepping on the roots of the trees as she headed to a particular section of the small wooded area that surrounded the small glass structure that housed her most precious and delicate plants.
Here the trees were wrapped with vines, blanketed, almost choked with them. They twined around the branches, hugged the trunks, and writhed across the ground to commune in piles akin to discarded garden hoses.
Upon closer inspection, one would notice that the vines bulged slightly every foot or so. One might also notice that the vines were absolutely leafless, and the vines didn't narrow or widen at all. They were peculiar, to say the very least.
Ivy grinned and knelt down, petting the nearest pile as if it was a particularly well-behaved pet. It wriggled under her touch.
"Tonight's the night, babies," she cooed. "Come to Mama."
The vines shuddered. They started to unravel from the trees, falling like limp spaghetti. As they fell, they segmented at each bulge, turning into mounds and mountains of wriggling, writhing green tubes. As Ivy watched, smiling proudly, each little segment uncoiled three little leglike protrusions at the bottom and sprouted two arms at the top.
The one nearest her opened one shining eye in the center of its abdomen. She laughed and scooped it up, cuddling it like a baby. As she set it back down on its feet, it flicked out two newly-sprouted hands with long clawlike fingers and flexed them entreatingly at her.
"It's time, baby. Go!" she whispered. It stared at her for a second, vegetable eye unblinking, then turned and waved one hand at its shifting, stretching brethren. They stood immediately to attention. The baby waved both hands in a quick motion downward, and the mass of vine beings scampered off through the trees. They disappeared in seconds.
Ivy knelt for a moment after they were gone, running her fingers through the brown earth they'd churned up, then got to her feet and absently dusted her hands off.
Now for the fun part.