FATR: It has been forever and a day since my last update, huh? Sorry, but RPGs really do eat your soul. They're fun, don't get me wrong, but I get so caught up the hijinks of a certain ADHD symbiot OC (with a penchant for late night kitchen and panty raids) named Misery that all else (even school, oops) ceases to matter. That, and I've been touching this up for some time. It's still a little rough around the edges, but I've been really sick all week so I'm just going to say "screw it, this will go up now, or it may never go up." If there is anything that does need touching up, whether it be typos or flow problems, I trust you, the reader, will tell me. Man, I have never had so many reviewers answer the questions I put to them every once in a while. I guess the last chapter made an impact. I only wish it could make even one fourth of the impact that Freak Like Me by Santanico (spelling?) made. If you haven't read that yet, read it now. It is spectacular! Ahem, sorry, that one makes me a bit emotional. Okay, well, Stray was the only one who answered in the affirmative, but I posted an extension anyway. More for my amusement than anything else I suppose, though more people than I expected have read it. It's not my best work. Writing a PG-13 rapefic was an interesting challenge in itself, though I doubt I will ever do it again on purpose. I'm working on an R rated version, so if for some reason your as dark as I am and/or you have a strange passion for Otto and/or Felicia (which brings up the interesting point that as far as I know this is a female dominated site, but that's a discussion for another day...) You can request an email of it. If for some reason you do want to read an R version and don't want anyone to know, email me and confidence will be kept, but make sure the subject line is clear. Wow, I'm jabbering far too much. Fine, on with the chip chip!
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Felicia fired her fist into Octavius' stomach, dodged a tentacle, and kicked him in the side of the head. She had lost control. She was fighting with raw passion now, raw hate, raw anger. It overwhelmed her, consuming her mind with white hot fire. There was nothing that she could do now, nothing but give into the dark rage that had been gnawing at her soul since that night. She despised him, loathed the way he made her feel about herself, and it was payback time, it was... "I hate you," she snarled, landing another blow. "I hate you! You arrogant son of a bitch! Am I still your pretty! AM I!" Sweat prickled all over her skin, her eyes flared, and her breath rasped in her throat. She threw another punch, missed, and fell to her knees, panting.
"Kitten!" John ran up behind his daughter and knelt beside her. "Are you okay?" He had been worried about her lately, very worried. Ever since the training portion had commenced, she seemed to be running off this insatiable thirst for blood that frightened him to behold. He hoped it wasn't a side effect of the experiment. Of course he also hoped it wasn't a previously conceived effect of the experiment.
Felicia's fingers curled into claws as she dug her nails into the mat. "I'm fine," she growled and stood up. "Come on, I almost had it that time."
His daughter, once as harmless and sweet as a kitten, eyed the punching bag like a leopard eyeing a gazelle. "It's been almost three hours, I think it's time to rest."
"No, no rest," she protested, shaking her head. "I'm fine, I just..." have to keep moving. If I stop to rest, I'll have to stop and think, and I can't think, oh god, I can't think...
John favored her with a pitying look. No matter how hard she strove to hide it, there was a broken tremor in her voice as she spoke these last three words. "I know there's something bothering you. I just wish you'd tell me what."
Felicia leaned over to wipe her face on the edge of her baggy black t-shirt, swallowing her tears for the octodecillionth time in the past two days. Tell her father about it? How could she tell anyone? She felt violated and stung, yes, and she yearned for vengeance, but she was also so ashamed. She had done something to attract attention to herself, like with Jason, and Michael... That's what it was, so she would lay low and the problem would go away. Besides, if she told her father, he would try to do something about it, maybe confront Octavius, or the Kingpin. Either way, she doubted the bastard octopus would let John Hardesky walk away in one piece. Felicia hadn't even been allowed to walk away in one piece. Better to keep it all inside. It wasn't even like she ever had to see Dr. Octopus again. The experiment part was over. They would never be alone again, and as long as things remained that way she didn't have to worry too much. "There's really not much going on... I mean, it's just the experiment and all... general stress..." She wandered over to a bench against the back wall and sat down, picking up and toying with her water bottle but not drinking.
John sat down next to his daughter. "That's entirely understandable, but I think it's more than general stress."
Felicia still saw her tormentor once in a while, in passing. He would shoot her such proud and knowing glances, sadistic little half smiles. She wanted to rip his face off, but knew full well it was beyond her power, at least for the time being. "What makes you say that?"
There was definitely something she was stubbornly concealing. "The way you attacked the punching bag... I've never seen you so unhappy, kitten. What did they do to you?"
Not they, him. What had he done to her? What hadn't he done to her? Oh, god... What was he going to do to her? "I just pictured someone I wanted to fight, like you told me to..."
And who was this flaming inferno of rage directed at? Who had hurt his poor little girl so badly, destroyed her sweet innocence? "I gathered that. Who was it?" Please tell me. If you tell me I can make it all better, I promise...
"Well, there is, was, this incident, with a... a guy..." Felicia had to tell him. She would tell him everything. It was the thing, the only thing, to be done. Right? Then why was it so hard to get the words out? Maybe because giving voice to the problem would make it real, and she would lose her ability to dismiss it as a bad dream. Part of her wanted it to be, even almost believed it was, a bad dream. It was those smiles and that subtle body language when she glimpsed Octavius in the hallway that snapped everything back to reality.
"Go on," John encouraged gently.
"He... he was..." Just spit it out! 'Dr. Octopus sexually harassed me.' Why can't I say it? It sounds so absurd... no one will ever believe me, he made sure of that... "There was this guy, I was engaged to him, named Jason..." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, despising her cowardice. Some other time, maybe, she would tell her father about Octavius. Jason was another load she had to get off her chest, too, right? "On the night of our engagement party, I was looking around his house, thinking about some redecorating plans we had discussed. Behind a book shelf I found... I found an orange cape, and a goblin mask... He was the Hobgoblin, and when he found out I knew... He threatened to kill me if I didn't marry him. Then later I found out he didn't love me at all, only my looks and my status..." Tears were pricking the corners of her eyes. "But it's just been one thing like that after another, and I can't... I can't..." She burst into tears, ones that had been bottled up for two days now. It was only a small portion of the story, but now her father could comfort her. He always made everything okay. There was no problem he couldn't fix. Well, he couldn't fix Felicia's octopus problem, but... God, it just felt so relieving to run crying to her father with her problems, just like when she was a little girl.
The cat held his kitten in his arms. How he wished he could shield her from any and all bad things, but he knew that wasn't realistic. The world could be hell, he knew this all too well, and all he could do about it was try to be available to sooth her burns. Then again, he hadn't been available to provide even that small comfort. "The search for the single person you were meant to find can be taxing, but everyone finds that person eventually."
"I know..." Felicia sniffed and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. "But why do I always end up being so wrong?"
"Everyone makes mistakes, it's part of growing up. Sometimes you just have to roll with the punches, and try to keep in mind that everything will turn out all right in the end." John fell into silence, gently stroking his daughter's hair as she calmed down. The only sound in the room for a long time was her hiccupping sobs. Finally he embraced her again and broke the silence with, "You have no idea how much I missed you and your mother. If I could have helped it at all, I never would have left you. I worry about you, I want to keep you safe, but..."
"It's okay, daddy, I understand," Felicia assured. Besides, there are just some things that you can't save me from, some things that are beyond your prevention...
"Are you ready to get back to training or would you prefer to lie down for a while?"
"Well, I am kind of tired..." Felicia admitted. She was human, sort of... but regardless, there were times when the very fire that fueled her just ate her out and left her an empty husk.
"Alright. We'll work on safe cracking after lunch."
It was dark and soundless. She felt like she was floating in a vacuum, yet she could breath. The lack of stimuli was relaxing, an immense relief. Here, there was nothing to think about, nothing to see or feel. Everything was peaceful, everything... wait, there was something cold and solid under her back. It summoned up recollections of waking up in the laboratory cell. Her eyes fluttered open slowly and flicked around. Overhead, harsh florescent lighting seared into her eyes, definitely not a help to the headache she was experiencing. Chilled air caressed her skin. "Uh... w... where am I?" She hear footsteps but when she tried to sit up or turn her head she discovered she couldn't do either. "What... what is this? What's going on?" She demanded, struggling.
"There is no reason for fear, my pretty."
That obnoxious pet name, purred in that all too familiar accent, made her freeze on the spot. Her tormentor glided into her line of site and stood, gazing down at her with those unreadable black lenses. The bright lights silhouetted him ominously. "What... Landon? Landon! Anyone?" Felicia's eyes darted around, terror digging icy talons into the pit of her stomach.
"We are entirely alone, as it should be..." He smirked wickedly and removed his gloves.
Felicia struggled and strained but whatever restraints held her stayed fast. His hands settled on her waist as he leaned towards her, running up her sides towards her chest as his lips drew closer...
Felicia screamed and sat up in her cell, cold sweat tiptoeing across her forehead and back. There was no sanctuary in sleep, either; not anymore at least. She hugged her knees to her chest in an attempt to still her shivers and bit her lip to quell the tears jostling for escape from behind her eyes. It was only a dream, a nightmare, and such a sorry excuse to cry. He wanted to get into her head, make her sick, make her paranoid. Crying would only confirm his domination of her, and she wasn't about to allow him the satisfaction.
"At last the kitten stirs."
The girl went rigid and the color rushed from her face. Swallowing hard, she turned her head slowly to face the prison door. Framed by the barred window was the face of her tormentor. The only sign of emotion was a twisted smile tugging slightly at the right corner of his mouth. He offered no other signs she could use to discern the intent of his visit. "What do you want?" She snapped, trying to sound angry and intimidating. However, this wrath only caused the smile to widen.
"I come bearing nourishment, my pretty, but if you do not require any, I will inform Kingpin of your choice."
At the mention of food Felicia's stomach grumbled. Training was exhausting work, not to mention the hate that was consuming her alive. However, he had used the promise of food to make her compliant to molestation before–however subtle it had been back then–and she remained skeptical. "Is that really all? And would you really leave if I asked you to?"
"I can observe you without being physically present."
Felicia's poker face slipped for a moment. "You... you've been watching me?"
"How else could I have known of your breakout?"
Felicia scowled. "You're lying. Quit trying to mess with my head."
"I do not need to try," he responded sinisterly. "Would you like lunch or not?"
"No," was Felicia's clipped reply but it was followed by an audible stomach growl. This appeared only to augment the octopus' amusement. God, she despised him.
Octavius opened, the door and stepped inside. "Do you fear me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No," Felicia snapped.
There was a tremor in her voice that almost made him laugh. She was so vicious, so stubborn, but still so soft. It wouldn't be at all difficult to take her and crush her, break her spirit, but the importance of the experiment outweighed any sadistic pleasure he may have gotten out of that. She turned on the bench and placed her feet on the floor, reaching out for the food but he withheld it a little longer. He could watch her on the security cameras from his computer, true, but the shadow of her on the screen was nothing compared to her radiance in person. He could almost smell her from this distance, the ambrosial scent he had inhaled deeply that night in the exercise room. "You have altered your style of dress since our last encounter."
Felicia's hands dropped back into her lap and her eyes turned down to study them. He was playing more games with her. Fine, she'd play along, as long as he didn't try to touch her again. Try, hmpf. If he got it into his head to touch her again, it wasn't like she'd be able to stop him. "That's correct," she answered softly.
"Pity." He cocked his head, taking in her submissive position: hunched shoulders, slumped posture, head down. "Do you remember our first encounter?"
There seemed to be an insidious and rather seductive note in his voice that made her shudder. "How could I forget being kidnaped?"
Octavius chuckled. "I am not referring to that little mess, my pretty." She looked up, confusion flitting across her porcelain face. "I am referring, of course, to the first time I approached your mother for the grant. You wore that exquisite white dress, a mark of your innocence, I imagine, or at least prefer to imagine. That is how I best recalled you those long months I spent incarcerated, after all."
"I can't say I recall..."
"Think, my pretty."
Felicia looked down and to the left, her original intention being the pretense of thought. All she wanted to do was complete this dialogue quickly and get him out of her hair. However, some recollections did bubble up from the dark recesses of her memory. There were vague images of the back patio on a sunny day. This had to have been at least a year ago, right? Something to that effect. Her mother had requested that she come out and introduce herself to a potential new employee. Felicia had grudgingly complied. Dr. Otto Octavius had struck her as eccentrically charming, if not a bit distracted and disorganized. Dr. Octopus was just plain unpleasant, no way around it. The more she thought about it, the more came to mind. He had been wearing an... eclectic outfit, to say the least. He had also stood to greet her and bowed to give her a courtly kiss on the back of the hand. "Now that I think about it... yes, I do remember. You didn't have much of an eye for color coordination, then, either."
The octopus scowled and raised one of the tentacles threateningly. "Do not provoke me." His scowl morphed into a satisfied smirk when she flinched back.
"Just give me the food and leave me alone," she growled, hands clenching into fists.
"Is that the polite way to ask?"
The feline glared daggers at him. "How dare you... I don't owe you anything." Felicia crossed her arms and turned her back to him, hoping it would make him leave. She didn't even care if he took the food with him. All she wanted was to be left alone. She heard footsteps and felt his fingers raking through her hair. Her teeth clenched but she didn't say anything.
"I saw your grace, your strength, when I abducted you. I wonder if I always knew our lives would become inextricably intertwined. Or is it hindsight bias?"
Felicia scooted away from him, continuing her refusal to visually acknowledge his presence. "Quit harassing me."
He laughed and put the food on the bench where she had previously been seated. "Why, Miss Hardy, is that a threat?" He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow in amusement.
"What if it is?" Felicia shot an insidious look over her shoulder.
"Then I should like to see it carried out."
"When my training's finished, you are so dead." The gleam in her eyes showed that she meant it, too. "You'll be so sorry you messed with me."
Octavius stocked towards her. She stood up, apparently preparing to defend herself if necessary, or at least attempt to defend herself. Her fears were unfounded. He meant her no severe bodily harm. She obviously underestimated the value he place on her as a test subject. He possessed no intention of informing her, though. Fear was a primary factor in power. The deeper her fear, the greater her compliancy. He caressed her cheek. The sensation of its silkiness still lingered in his finger tips from the night before last. "En contraire, my pretty, I anticipate it. The breaking of a wild creature lacks esteem if the creature is not performing at peek condition."
He left her alone in the cell with those threatening words hanging in the air, invisible but ominously real. The rage that had been consuming her was abruptly quelled by fear. She groaned in frustration and turned to her meal. However, she was too caught up in a cyclone of emotion to notice how it tasted.