Chapter Nine
It had taken every inch of Prue's remaining will to ignore what was going on on the wall across from the cell that held her and the others caged like animals. She had barely been able to see Carl's lock for the tears that filled her eyes, and her hands now shook as she fought to pick her own lock, having already freed the Gnome from his. Carl had hurriedly scooted along to help the others when she had ushered him away from her collar. She knew he could have done it faster, but she wanted to be able to do it herself.
Now, however, she was beginning to think her decision foolish. If only she could free herself, she could knock the heck out of Helvira and get her off of Brendan, but as it was . . . Prue pressed her lips tightly together to silence the sob that rose in her throat. It hurt so much just to look upon the man she loved now. Helvira had not stopped at carving his chest but had continued on, using her dagger, fingernails, and even her fire to further mutilate Brendan's chest.
Prue knew he had held on as long as he could, but the whimperings, howls, and screams had come, tearing at the hearts of all the prisoners who heard them. She could not even imagine being in as much pain as he was now, and she shuddered as Helvira pulled another strip of flesh away to reveal bone. Wolverine, Wolf, and Jareth had all been struggling their most valiantly against their bonds and hurling insults and threats at the bitch, but she seemed to ignore them all.
Prue's thoughts broke off as she heard the tell-tell click of her collar giving way. A slow, dangerous smile spread over her lips. She was free, and now the bitch would pay! All she needed was a weapon, and Helvira held one in her very hand! Prue's eyes followed the dagger's movements, and she began to concentrate.
Roxanne paused as she entered the hold of the Saucy Wench. The two jaguars who sat like stone statues at the bottom of the stairs looked up at her. Their tails swished in greeting as they stood to meet her. Her free hand stroked one head at a time, and they licked her fingers. "Good girls, Sasha, Yasmine." She hated leaving them down here to watch the prisoners and see what the two Vampiresses were doing to their prisoners, but the order had come straight from Captain Callisto and she had been unable to deny it.
Roxanne brushed gently past her pets and, while doing her best to ignore Darla and Drusilla as they struck at their prisoners' bodies with iron bars heated by the coals in the brazier, walked toward the cell. She unlocked it, slipped in, and locked it again behind her. She slipped the key into her bodice and walked past the prisoners who glared angrily at her.
Crystal looked up at the dark-skinned brunette from where she was huddled close with Lorne and Cordelia. Her ice blue eyes watched her, wondering if the woman might present her with an opportunity and just why she was in there with them in the first place.
Roxanne felt the others' eyes on her but did not respond. Instead, she continued on to the woman who lay, trembling in the fetal position, in the back of the cell. She was not surprised to find Emma's fur cape draped over her nor its owner with shocks running through her body. Her sad eyes moved from Emma back to the sick woman.
Her gentle hands removed first the cape and then the blanket underneath it. "Theo," she whispered to the woman, "it's Roxanne. I'm here to change your bandages." Her heart ached when there was no response, and her hand gently caressed the other woman's lovely face. "Theo?" she called again.
Theo murmured incoherent words in her fevered sleep, and Roxanne could not help softly brushing her thumb across Theo's lips. She hated to see her like this. It had been bad enough when she had been kept as prisoner. She had tried to do everything she could to protect her, but she had not been able to stop Judson, Darla, and Drusilla from using her for a test subject. She had even offered to take her place, claiming that she reveled in pain and the changing table they had made was an unique opportunity, but they had laughed at her. That had been what had brought Callisto's suspicions on her for the first time, but the blonde had not yet called her on it.
Roxanne shook her head, knowing that her thoughts were drifting and she needed to remain alert should the prisoners decide to attack her. She glanced quickly around, her eyes meeting once with a blue Demon's yellow orbs and a second time with a blonde's ice blue eyes. None of them seemed to be trying to threaten her yet, so Roxanne returned her attention to Theo.
She gently pulled apart the back of her unbuttoned shirt and set to work removing the bandages. She heard a couple of soft gasps as she revealed Theo's injuries -- the holes that ran all throughout her back and, Roxanne knew, even lower. She began to apply the medicine she applied twice daily while saying a silent prayer to Bast.
Helvira had been busily digging away in her favorite prey when her dagger suddenly stopped following her orders. It became like a stone in her hand, and she could not move it regardless of how hard she tried. "What the Hell?" she murmured under her breath, her black lips pulled down into a puzzled frown.
As she struggled with it, her prisoners also looked at it in confusion. Who was doing this? Who had managed to find a way to try to stop her? Brendan's mind was barely alert, but still he clung to the thought of those he loved most -- his brother, Jack; his father, Wolverine, who hung beside him; and the woman who he could not seem to keep himself from loving, Prue. The memory of the way she had thrown his clothes at him while never touching them came to him, and his miserable eyes peered over Helvira's shoulder to find Prue standing just behind the bars, her fingers wriggling in the same movements that the dagger fought against Helvira's grasp to go in.
He was distracted from watching Prue by Helvira's sudden screech as the blade finally broke free of her grasp and flew toward her throat. It struck its target, embedding in her throat. She clawed at the handle, but even as she was doing so, Prue made come-hither motions with her hands and Helvira found herself being pulled backwards by an invisible force.
Shadowcat's blade was quicker and fiercer than it had been before as her mind finally concentrated fully on the battle at hand, and it was not long before she succeeded in knocking the sword from her mother's hand. Elektra's mouth fell agape in surprise as her daughter's sword pointed at her heart. "My turn," Kitty announced, her brown eyes blazing. "You abandoned me as a baby. You didn't want any part of me. This is only the second time I've ever even seen you face to face, and that was because you and your crew mates kidnapped my family! So why in the Hell," she demanded, "do you care if my parents were good to me or if I was happy! You never cared before, so why now!"
Kitty's questions stunned Elektra, and her dark eyes quickly glanced around their surroundings to make certain that no one was paying attention to them. She saw Kalena watching over her prisoners as they mopped the deck, occasionally stopping to drink from a pail of water, Jocelyn raising heck over the tiny creatures she'd set to work doing her repairs. Elektra's eyes finally returned to Kitty's. "I . . . I did care," she answered quietly.
Kitty's blade thrust closer to her heart. "The truth!"
"It is the truth," Elektra insisted, her eyes keeping Kitty's gaze. "I was already a member on this ship when I learned I was pregnant with you. This would have been no kind of life for you, and Callisto doesn't allow children. Had I had you on board and tried to keep you on board, we would have both ended up walking the plank."
Kitty stared at her mother, uncertain if she could believe her or not. "Then why didn't you look me up?" she asked, fully expecting the older woman to toss her earlier words back to her when she had asked her if she'd been happy as a child and Kitty had informed her that that was two questions.
Elektra did not protest but answered her question instead. "I wanted to, but I . . . I . . . I was . . . " How could she admit that she had been scared, scared of learning that she'd chosen the wrong people to raise her daughter, scared that she would be unable to leave her if she ever saw her, scared that Kitty would want no part of her if she learned who she was and that that might well break what remained of her heart?
A shot rang out, and Kitty yelled in pain as the bullet blazed into her shoulder. She dropped her sword and staggered, but Elektra caught her. "What in the Hell!" she demanded, her furious eyes turning on Jocelyn Seagrave.
"If you were having trouble with your prisoner, all you needed to do is yell for help!" Jocelyn told her.
"I didn't need any help!"
"That's why she was about to cut out your heart!"
Only then did Elektra realize what their stand-off would have looked like to any one watching. Jocelyn had thought that Kitty had somehow broken free of her arm cuff and was about to kill her, and her crew mate believed she had just saved her life. "I could have handled it!"
Jocelyn's eyes blazed up at Elektra. "Next time, I'll just let her kill you!"
"Next time, you just mind your own business," Elektra retorted, "not that there's going to be a next time!" She turned her attention back to her daughter. "Come on, slave. We'd better get that wound dressed before you get blood on me!" Yet her hands were gentle as she assisted Kitty in getting down to the deck and led her toward Roxanne's cabin.
Helvira slammed backwards into the iron bars of the cell, and Prue's hands went for her neck. Helvira's black eyes blazed up at the daring woman. "You won't hurt him," Prue told her defiantly as she tried to choke her against the bars, "not any more!" She tried to get her hands completely around Helvira's neck but was blocked by the dagger.
Helvira would have snarled out a response, but she could not get any words out for Prue's tight hold on her neck. Her own hands clasped over Prue's, however, and her black fingernails drew down Prue's tender skin. Fire sparked from her fingertips, burning Prue's hand and forcing her to relinquish her hold with a cry of pain.
"Prue!" Brendan managed to get out. Seeing her in such trouble renewed his strength but did not give him enough to do much more than a child's attempt at struggling against his chains. "Don't hurt her!" he cried, but even as he did so, he knew she would.
Helvira whirled to face the woman who had dared to try to fight her. "Prue, is it? Well, listen here, Prudence," she snarled, "I don't give a damn if Callisto did take you. If you try that or anything else again, I'll burn your little ass beyond repair, and as for Brendan . . . I guess you must have fallen for the good wolf," sarcasm dripped off of her snarled words, "but if you try anything else again, I'll hurt him even more. In fact . . . " She pulled the dagger from her own throat, turned, and threw it toward Brendan.
"BRENDAN!" Prue could not stand idly by and see him hurt again. She threw out her hands, and the dagger changed direction to land, at the last possible second, safely in the wall beside Brendan.
Helvira snorted. She moved a finger and sent a gush of fire ripping out over not only Brendan's groin area but also Wolf's and Wolverine's as well. As they howled, screamed, and writhed in pain, she turned back to Prue, who was once more crying. "Now I could let one of them burn or even all three of them."
"YOU WOULDN'T!" Carl yelled at her from where he had returned to Prue's side.
"That's right!" Frederic agreed. "You want to save them and use them against their family!"
"Their family already knows I have them. I don't mind dropping Wolf's corpse or Wolverine's at Elvira's or Jack's feet." Her narrowed eyes met Prue's despairing gaze. "I might even decide to go ahead and kill Brendan off."
The fire was quickly spreading up all three men's bodies as Helvira and the prisoners stood, facing each other. "You have a choice, Prudence," Helvira informed Prue. "You can save all three or you can continue attempting to save one. What's it going to be?"
Prue sobbed. She knew she couldn't save Brendan at the cost of Wolverine's and Wolf's lives for she knew that losing them would be as painful to her godmother, Ororo, and her good friend, Elvira, as losing Brendan would be to her. "What do you want me to do?" she asked quietly at last.
"Put your collars back on. Every damn one of you."
"You said -- " Prue started, and Helvira pointed a clawed hand at Jareth. She nodded, accepting her fate, and relocked her collar. One by one, the others followed her example.
"And know," Helvira concluded, "that should any one of you attempt again to escape or help another to do so, this is your last warning. The next time, I'll simply pick one at random and kill him on the spot."
"At least let them go now!" Prue cried.
Helvira smirked and turned her back to them to watch her prisoners being eaten alive by the flames. Wolf seemed especially paranoid as he clawed at the wall in a desperate but foolish attempt to outrun the flames. Helvira laughed as she watched him.
"You promised!" Prue exclaimed as she threw herself against the bars and tried to reach a hand out for Helvira. "You promised!"
"I did no such thing," Helvira told her, "but I don't want them dead quite yet if it's avoidable." She clapped her hands, and the fire simply vanished.
Darla and Dru had been working on Angel and Connor for quite some time, but their prisoners had ceased responding and appeared to be too far gone in their agony to take much notice of what they were doing to them now. The blonde girl had continued raising her own personal Hell as she struggled against her chains and tossed threats at them, but Darla had silenced her with an iron gag. They had since learned to ignore her squeals.
Dru pouted. "This is getting boring," she commented.
Darla glanced at her. A part of her couldn't help agreeing, but the other part knew that Angel was just playing a game. He was not truly as gone as he wanted her to think he was but knew that giving in to the pain with screams was exactly what she wanted and had thus put his mind out of the situation at hand. "Wanna take a break," Darla suggested, "and get a snack?"
"Sounds good," Dru agreed. "I am hungry, but I'm not really ready to try a furball yet." In truth, she would not have minded drinking Kurt's blood in the least, but she was feeling playful and wanted to dare to mess with the other prisoners besides their own.
"Take your pick," Darla told her, waving a hand at the cell. "There's plenty to choose from."
Dru grinned and giggled while walking over to the cell. She began to point at one prisoner at a time as she recited a rhyme in a sing-song voice. "Eeny meeny miny mo. Catch a human by its toe. If she hollers, bite her mo."
"What are you doing?"
The voice stopped the two Vampiresses in surprise. Roxanne, having just finished Theo's treatment for the evening, began walking toward them.
"What's it look like?" Darla retorted. "We're picking dinner."
"Then pick from your own prisoners."
"We have a standing arrangement with Callisto -- " Darla started.
"I know," Roxanne admitted with an understanding nod as she began to unlock the cell, "but that's with usual prisoners. We all know these aren't the usual." She shrugged as she slipped out of the cell. She hated turning her back to the Vampires but did just that as she relocked the cell. "It's just a friendly warning. There's too many bitches aboard this ship who already don't like you simply because of what you are. Do you really want to turn the Captain against you too? Besides, think about it," she persisted. "If the Captain turns against you, do you really think the Sorceress will let her spell stay? I know that's the only way you girls get to see the light of day."
Darla and Drusilla shared a glance. They knew that Roxanne was playing them, but at the same time, the woman had a point. "There's still that one in the back. What's her name?" Darla asked, looking back at Roxanne. "Theodora or some such?"
"Her wounds have become infected. If you drink her blood, you'll probably get the infection too. I have no idea what it'll do to Vampires or how to treat you if you get it."
"Is that a threat?" Darla asked even as Roxanne walked past her crew mates and headed for the steps.
"No," Roxanne answered pleasantly, turning back around to face them with a reassuring smile. "Just a fact."
Darla and Drusilla watched her with angry snarls as Roxanne disappeared up the stairs. They heard the door open and shut and saw Roxanne's pets resume their posts at full alert. The two Vampiresses looked at each other. "You take the monkey," Darla told Dru. "I'll cover you." She withdrew her pistol and pointed it at the brunette who trembled in the blonde's arms.
Cordelia stared at the gun through the tears that filled her hazel eyes. After what they'd done to Angel, she didn't care if they shot her. Movement behind Darla caught her attention, however, and her eyes turned toward it to see Angel with his head raised and his concerned eyes open and watching her. Hope lit her heart though she dared not let it be seen. Maybe he wasn't as badly gone as she had thought!
Helvira examined what remained of her burned prisoners. "I'll want to play with you some more shortly," she informed Brendan. Removing the crystal necklace Judson had given her from her own neck, she draped it over his. The blue crystal that was intricately shaped in the form of a snowflake immediately began to glow, and she moved to Wolverine as its light engulfed Brendan.
She grasped a handful of Wolverine's hair and used it to jerk his head up so that his gaze met hers. His eyes had revealed his pain, but now, as he stared back at her, he quickly hid his true emotions again, replacing them with blazing fury. "You thought you were so much, didn't you," Helvira asked him, "when you and your stupid boy took Brendan away from me? He was mine all along; you just stole him from me."
"He's a living being," Wolverine told her, his weak voice laced with anger. "He never belonged to you."
"Silence, dog!" Helvira commanded as her other fist plowed against his mouth. "He did belong to me! His family sold him to me! I almost had him broke at last, and you had to come in and whisk him away! You'll pay for it all now!" She released his head, and her hand moved to one of his hands instead. She moved his hand as she examined it in search of his claws. "Unsheathe your claws."
"Can't," he told her. "Collar keeps 'em in, but if you wanna remove the collar . . . " His tired voice shifted into a growl. "I'll unsheathe them right into yer gut, bitch."
"That won't be necessary," she informed him, "or possible." She took his hand in both of hers, and her fingers caressed him with an unsettling gentleness. Then she turned his hand over and raked her sharp fingernails deep through the tender flesh of his palm. Wolverine did not scream as she dug her fingernails through his palm again and again.
"You're just no fun," Helvira pouted up at him, "but we'll fix that." He felt his hands begin to burn in a dozen places at once, and as her hands released his, both of his hands were engulfed by fire. She watched, murmuring ancient words underneath her breath, as the fire slowly ate away at first his flesh and then his bone. Wolverine fought valiantly not to scream, but as the flames licked deep within his hands and found his claws, a scream finally erupted from him.
Kurt had left the cell without a fuss, knowing that any struggle might well result in some one else being hurt, and had allowed Darla and Drusilla to chain him. He had not tried to fight them, but now he trembled on the outside as well as on the inside. His prayers became even more fervent as Drusilla circled him. Her pale hand reached out and caressed his fur. "I wonder," she mused, "if you chatter like monkeys or if you can actually scream? I guess we'll find out." Her eyes and face shifted, and he shivered even more as he stared at the Vampiress before him in her full form.
Drusilla bent her head and sank her fangs into Kurt's neck even as Darla approached Zora again. She came to a stop before the blonde and her own son and lifted Connor's head. She had thought he was out but now found his eyes glaring at her. "Bite me," he challenged, and she laughed.
"Dear boy, don't you know anything? Your blood would do me no good!" She laughed again as she dropped his head and zeroed in on Zora. The leather-clad blonde struggled even more against her bonds, and her growling could be heard past the iron gag. "Sh," Darla said and placed a fingertip on the single hole in the gag, cutting off Zora's oxygen even as she turned into her full Vampiress form and sank her fangs in the side of the blonde's neck.
Zora continued trying to struggle for as long as she could, but through the loss of blood and oxygen, she soon began to feel weak. She fought to hold on, but it was not long before her surroundings became dull and black.
"Why didn't you look me up?" Kitty whispered when they were alone again.
"I . . . I didn't have anything to offer you," Elektra tried to explain, "and I was . . . scared."
"Scared?" Kitty repeated. "Scared of what?"
"Of what you'd think of me, that you might not like me, that you might hate me and not understand why I gave you up, that I couldn't compare to your parents, or that they hadn't been the right people to give you to and I had cast you into a horrible life."
Kitty smiled sadly. She was usually pretty good at telling liars, and Elektra did not appear to be lying. "I had the best childhood a girl could hope for with loving, understanding parents," she told her, "but I still don't understand why you gave me up. Couldn't you just leave the ship, or did the life of a Pirate mean that much to you?"
"I've always loved being a Pirate -- " Kitty nodded in understanding for she had too. " --, but no, that wasn't it. I -- " Elektra's words broke off as she saw Roxanne walking just a few paces ahead of them. "Roxanne!"
Roxanne turned at the sound of her name and was surprised to see Elektra leading her prisoner to her. The brunette leaned against her captive and had one blood-covered hand clasped over her left shoulder.
"Need you to get a bullet out for me," Elektra told her.
"What happened?" Roxanne inquired.
"There was a . . . misunderstanding. Seagrave thought I needed help when I didn't, and the bitch shot my prisoner." Elektra put extra emphasis on the word "my", hoping that Roxanne would think she was upset simply because Jocelyn had shot her prisoner instead of one of her own.
"Stay here," Roxanne told her. "Give me a minute to prep."
Elektra nodded in understanding. Though she wondered why Roxanne wanted them out of her cabin while she prepped, she did not ask for to let the woman realize that she was suspicious of her might well give her reason to be suspicious of her -- and draw conclusions about her relationship with her prisoner that she wanted no one to know.
With Wolverine and Wolf being burned nearly all over their bodies and Brendan still under the healing powers of the mysterious crystal, Helvira moved on to the last man in line -- Jareth. She ran her hand over his bare chest, caressing his skin. He struggled but could not escape her touch, and she laughed. "You said earlier I would never have you again, but when I'm done with you and your ugly, little subjects, you'll beg me to take you."
"Never!" Jareth spat at her.
Helvira smiled coldly. "Oh, it'll happen, and the King will turn into a whipped pup. It's just a matter of time," she purred before turning away from him and walking to the cell. "The Goblins stay where they are. The rest of you, stand back," she snarled at the prisoners as she opened the door.
"Or you'll what?" Frederic dared to ask. Prue, not wanting to see Brendan be hurt again, did as instructed.
"I'll burn one of you to ash."
Her answer combined with the way her black eyes glared at both he and his father, Smee, were more than enough to make him back away into the shadows. He kept alert, however, in case she should decide to try to burn one of them any way. If she did and chose Smee, he silently vowed that he would jump into the blaze instead. The bitch had already killed one of his fathers, and he had been powerless to stop it. He would not stand idly by and let her kill Smee, as well.
Helvira entered the cell, grabbed a Goblin, and hauled him up by his throat. The Goblins around the one she had chosen tried to claw at her and strike her with their tiny fists, but she simply kicked them away, her evil laughter echoing in the hold. She hauled the Goblin out of the cell, relocked it, and returned to Jareth.
"He will only be the first one," she warned him, thrusting the thing's ugly, green face into Jareth's own face. "I will tear one apart at a time, and after each, I will ask you for you will want me this time, Jareth, if not for thinking me to be your wife than for no other reason than to save your subjects."Jareth forced himself to snort. "You're wasting your time," he coldly informed her. "They mean nothing to me."
"Perhaps," she allowed, "but perhaps not. Regardless, what is a King without his subjects?"
He wondered if she could possibly know that he had been pondering the same not too long ago. "They're nothing to me," he repeated. "There's plenty more back in the labyrinth, and they breed like rats. It'll take a mere matter of days to replace any you kill."
Helvira humphed disbelievingly. "We'll see if you're still singing the same tune when their guts rain upon you and their screams fill your ears."
She then began ripping the Goblin apart, while it was still alive and conscious, one limb at a time. Its blood spurted over Jareth, and she tossed each limb she tore off at its King. The Goblin's shrill screams joined with the screams of the rest of the Goblins. They rose together and carried out to the sea.
Jocelyn was still fuming from Elektra's rude reaction to her saving the bitch's life. She couldn't believe Elektra had taken such an attitude with her when she had saved her stupid hide from her own damn prisoner! Jocelyn was pacing up and down the line she had set her prisoners to working in when she heard the tell-tell sound of some one relieving themselves. She followed it and the grunts that accompanied it and found one of the ugly, little creatures standing on the railing and letting his member spray its excrement out onto the ocean water.
Jocelyn's eyes flared with anger. How dare the little bastard whip out such an ugly thing or dare to use the bathroom when he was supposed to be doing her work! She pulled out her gun and waited for the thing to finish.
Hoggle sighed in relief as he released the last bit, then zipped up his pants and started to turn around. What he found standing before him -- a woman with her gun pointed straight at his sword -- stopped him in his tracks. He yelped and raised his hands in surrender, but she pulled the trigger nonetheless. The bullet exploded into his groin, and the impact knocked him over the railing.
Teak and the other Goblins squealed in fright, and Jocelyn turned toward them, her pistol still at the ready. "If you want to follow him, just do what he did and don't do your work. Otherwise, this just means more work for the rest of you ugly bastards." The Goblins hurried back to work but continued muttering in a language she could not understand. "Shut up, or I'll shoot you now!" Silence reigned.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU STARIN' AT, GIRL! GET BACK TO WORK!"
Phoebe jumped as Callisto's yell startled her out of her thoughts. "But -- But that man was shot!" She had seen Hoggle relieving himself over the railing of the Saucy Wench and had seen his captive shoot him.
"I don't give a damn what man was shot! You better get back to work before I mess up that pretty, little face of yours!"
Phoebe sighed and returned her attention to cleaning the cannons. Dear Gods, what were they going to do! She had been hearing all the screams and howls and could only imagine the horrors that were befalling her sisters and her new-found family. Would there be rescue, or had Joxer, Jack, and the others truly been killed? Tears welled in her eyes. Would she ever see her Joxxy again?
Smee, Prue, and Carl all had their heads buried in their hands by the time Helvira began work on the tenth Goblin. Not even Frederic could bare to watch the small beings being ripped asunder while conscious and alive. Bile rose in his gut, but he kept it down and his head turned away.
Wolverine and Wolf were too lost in their pain to try to help, but Brendan, freshly healed by the crystal, yelled at Helvira, telling her again and again that he knew she wanted him more than any of the others and daring her to return her tortures to him rather than wasting them on the small, innocent creatures. Neither Helvira nor Jareth were fazed by anything happening around them, however.
Helvira continued to wait for Jareth to cave, but Jareth remained as still and calm as a statue. He was crying, sobbing, and yelling inside, and he burned to be able to rip the bitch in front of him apart as she was doing to his people. Yet he could not surrender to her. If not for Delvira, he would have several Goblins ago, but he feared losing his beloved wife and her love more than anything else and so he forced himself to remain strong and keep his mask in perfection.
As she finished ripping the tenth Goblin apart and its head bounced off of his chest, right above his heart, as had all the others, his eyes turned to face hers. No trace of his sadness nor anger could be seen within; instead, he merely appeared bored. "You're wasting your time," he told her again.
Helvira sighed. She was growing tired of playing with the Goblins, and they were not drawing the effect she wanted. "Very well," she announced to which the remaining Goblins breathed a collective sigh of relief. The sound of her black high heels striking the wood of the deck echoed as she moved through the hold to a table and picked up an instrument.
Jareth trembled inside at the sight of the horrid thing but kept himself still and firm on the outside. He met her gaze unblinkingly when she returned before him. "Since the Goblins don't seem to be working," she declared, "I'll just make you hurt worse than you ever have before, and I won't stop until you agree." She could have just taken him, but she knew Delvira's pain would be a hundred times greater if her husband agreed to let her ride him.
Kneeling before Jareth, Helvira fitted the instrument around his foot. She had to push the link of chain slightly away from his ankle, but she dared not release him from any of his bonds. She fitted his foot between a sharp, ribbed iron plate and an upper metal bar that held rows of spikes pointing hungrily down. As she began to turn the long screw that was attached to the top bar, the spikes sank into the top of Jareth's foot, and the two bars began coming together in preparation of crushing his foot.
Jareth fought to keep from screaming, but as the spikes entered his bones, he could no longer refrain. As he screamed, she told him, "All you have to do is say 'yes', and I'll stop."
"Never," he seethed through gritted teeth. She turned the screw again, bringing the bars still closer together, and he screamed again. She continued pausing along the way, drawing out the punishment, and asking him, but every time, he denied her. Even as his foot slowly became a mangled pulp, he continued to deny the bitch who wore the face of his wife.
Roxanne kept her back to Elektra and her prisoner as she slid her key into her door and turned the lock. She paused for a moment, sniffing and listening intently as some one moved around the door. She threw it open with such force that she knocked Morph against the door and entered so swiftly that she was able to grab Katrina's wrist as the catwoman tried to bring a heavy book down upon her head. She kicked the door closed behind her, praying that Elektra had no clue what was going on, pulled her pistol out, and pointed it at Celina. "I don't want to hurt you," she hissed, "but I can't let you go!"
"Why not?" Katrina demanded, keeping her own voice low though she wasn't sure why they were whispering. "If you really don't want us to be harmed, why do you have your gun pointed at my sister, and why won't you let us go?"
"Think about it," Roxanne told her. "The rest of the women on these two ships are black-hearted bitches. If you get free and try to cause any trouble for them, they will shoot your friends and family. Is that what you want?"
"Of course not!" Morph exclaimed as he pulled himself off of the wall the door had plastered him into.
"That still doesn't explain why you're holding a gun on my sister," Katrina commented angrily.
"If I hadn't, would you have stopped? Would I have had any chance of getting you to listen to me?"
"You know she's right, Katrina," Celina softly spoke up, "and I can smell the truth on her. So can you."
The redhead nodded. "But we just can't sit here and do nothing!"
"I don't plan on it," Roxanne assured them. "They left some of your people alive, because they want them to come after us. When they get here -- and they will --, fighting will break out all over both ships. That'll be our chance to get to the hold."
Katrina's green eyes studied her. "Why," she questioned, "do you want to help us?"
"I don't have time to go into details right now," Roxanne told her. "I've got a crew mate waiting outside with a prisoner who's been shot. I need you to stand down, go over there to my cot, and just . . . Huddle on it. Act like you've been hurt."
"You want us to play a game in other words?" Morph asked.
"I want you to pretend to be how you would be if I was the way we want them to keep thinking I am."
Celina, Katrina, and Morph looked at each other and slowly nodded in agreement. Roxanne holstered her gun and set about quickly preparing the table for the gunshot wound. She finished before her prisoners were settled and waited for them to complete the look of the crumpled heap they were trying to squirm their bodies into. When they were settled, Roxanne opened the door for Elektra and her prisoner even as Morph started moaning. Celina, following her husband's example, groaned, but Katrina remained silent.
Derek Starsky's hands shook as they clung to the wooden handle of the mop he held. He had thought that Hansel would find Jack and they would come for him together. He had thought these bitches could not possibly be a match for the man he loved, the infamous Jack Sparrow, and his crew -- but he had been dreadfully wrong. He had seen the other prisoners being taken on board earlier that day, and he had seen many of his old friends in the group. Yet he had not seen Jack or his beloved Hansel.
Derek batted away the tears that welled in his eyes yet again. Every time they caught him crying, they beat him even more, and every inch of his body bore their marks. Still, he couldn't manage to stop his tears, as he wondered again what had become of Jack and, far more importantly, Hansel. Had these bitches killed them? But why? Why when they had taken him to use against Jack? Derek knew, however, that Jack would never have allowed his father or brother to be taken as long as there was any fight left in his body.
And then there was his Hansel. What had happened to his love? Would he ever see him again? Had Hansel even come for him after they'd had such a horrible fight? Derek hung his head in shame at the memory. He'd known he didn't love the woman, but he'd thought it was time. After all, he had an image to uphold, and it wasn't as if Hansel would ever love him in return. Oh, sure, he loved him -- or had, at least -- as a friend, as a companion in arms, as a brother, but never as a lover.
Derek sobbed quietly as a fresh series of howls and yells echoed around the ship. Gods, how he missed Hansel! He missed the way the golden rays of the sunlight danced upon his even more golden locks. He missed the way his mouth quirked when he told a joke, the way his blue sapphires that were his eyes shone with happiness, the way his sexy voice caressed his longing ears, and the way he jested with him when he was sad. He even missed the cute way his little, crooked nose would scrunch up at him to tell him he was full of it. He missed everything about him!
Derek sighed. He missed Hansel so terribly that it was a physical ache that filled him as he thought of him, and he loved him more than life itself. Yet he might never see him again, and he might have lost him any way simply because of that stupid fight they'd had over a blasted woman. He had no use for women. They'd never done anything for him. It had always just been an act, and though he had agreed to marry Margaret, he had always cringed every time she'd called his name, he'd heard her voice, or -- worse of all -- he'd had to touch her.
He shivered at the memories, and his self-hatred bore on at the thought that his stupidity had ruined everything. At least, he could have still had Hansel as a friend, and if they'd never had that foolish fight and he'd never gone back to the tavern that night, he never would have been captured by the bitches who now filled his every waking moment like a plague straight from the hottest depths of Hell!
Tom had heard some one enter the room and his nose had identified the person as Catra, but she had not yet returned to him. He listened, his orange ears swiveling around, as she walked around the room, picked up something, and finally began to walk toward him. He had no idea what she planned next, but he dared not ask her as she came to stop next to his head.
Catra's hand reached down and caressed her prisoner's furry cheek. He growled and tried to jerk away from her touch but could not. "You've been being too much of a pest," she told him, "but I'm going to stop that right now. You don't want your eyes open. You don't want to have to look upon me. That's fine, but I'm not going to leave you able to track my movements any longer."
Blessed Bast, Tom wondered frantically, what in the Hell is she planning to do to me! Catra pressed a hand over his throat and used her grip there to pin him even further to the table. He then felt cold metal touch his closed eyelids. Oh Bast! he cried silently. "Not my eyes!"
"Oh, yes, your eyes!" Catra purred as she raked the cat's paw over his eyelids. Tom cried out as its sharp, metal teeth bit deeply into his sensitive skin. Catra ran the weapon over his eyes again and again, using its long teeth to rip and tear away his fur, flesh, and even the eyeballs themselves. Tom's screams shook the walls of the sleeping quarters.
Faith had no ideal how long her captives had been gone and had been laying in the quietness, thankful for the time without them punishing her, and wondering how in the Hell they had managed to take her without there being any warning. How had they gotten past everybody? Why had no one stopped them? Where were Dawson, Lex, Jack, Salem, Katrina, and the rest? She did not think they were aboard for she had heard nobody yelling or screaming and did not realize that Judson had placed a soundproof spell on the cabin.
The door opened. Her dark eyes peered down at the foot of the table, and she was surprised to see Judson and Lilah entering with a bowl. Lilah shut and locked the door behind them, and Judson approached her. He scooped a spoonful of meat out of the bowl and held it out before her lips.
Faith stared at him in surprise. "Go to Hell." Did he really think she was stupid enough to eat his poison?
"It's not poison," he tried to assure her with a false smile. "Wouldn't be much point in that since I want to slowly torture you to death."
She eyed him. He had a point, and she knew it. She still knew better than to eat the food, however. Judson waved the bite before her, and its sweet aroma filled her nostrils. Her eyes dropped to the food; she'd never seen anything more tantalizing in all her life.
"I swear it's not poison," he repeated, "but I want you to keep up your strength while we keep tearing you apart."
Faith knew she had to find a way to keep up her strength if she were to escape, and the food did look so delicious . . . Her lips opened at last, and she slowly took the offered bite. Judson offered her another and another, and she took each one, savoring each bite and swallowing. It continued on like that until the next bite did not come, and Faith frowned at Judson. "What?"
He shrugged. "There isn't any more." He turned the bowl so that she could see, and her mouth fell open at the face she was met with.
The white kitten from her childhood stared back at her, its saucer-sized eyes filled with agony and despair. It mewled pitifully, but she could hear its words as plain as day. "Why?" the kitten asked. "Why'd you have to eat me? Why'd you have to kill me!"
"No . . . " Again, the kitten repeated its question, and Faith shook her head wildly. "No! No! NO! It can't be! It wasn't!"
"Cat meat?" Judson questioned. He smiled slyly. "Why, yes, it was. Wasn't it delicious?" He had known she would enjoy every bite and be unable to refuse the food for he had placed a spell not only on the bowl but also on the meat inside.
"No! No! No! NO!" Faith continued repeating the word and shaking her head until she felt the meat rise back up within her throat. Her mouth opened, and it sprayed outward, spewing on both Judson and herself.
Lilah started to laugh, but Judson's glare cut her short. He stormed out of the room, swiping at the vomit that assaulted his face and robe. Lilah started to move toward Faith, but Judson barked back at her, "COME WITH ME!" She shrugged and, believing that she'd have Faith to herself later, followed the Priest.
Over on the Saucy Wench, Katrina and Celina heard Tom's screams, and Katrina ached to cry herself and to rip apart the bitch who had her beloved husband. Tears filled Celina's blue eyes, and Morph looked at his wife questioningly as her voice broke off in mid-moan. "Tom," Celina mouthed to Morph.
Morph closed his eyes against the imaginings of what the bitches could be doing to his best friend. Hold on, Tom, he prayed. Hold on.
Celina reached out to Katrina and pulled her into her arms. Katrina shook and let silent tears stream onto her sister's Siamese-colored fur.
Roxanne stole a glance at the trio on her cot. What was wrong with them? They'd been carrying on so well that Elektra had not noticed that they were not hurt, but she knew their sudden quietness would draw the other woman's suspicions. She coughed and coughed again when they didn't pay her any attention.
"Roxanne, are you all right?" Elektra questioned the doctor who seemed to have suddenly came down with a coughing fit.
Morph, having caught Roxanne's signal, groaned miserably, and Roxanne slowed her coughing. She breathed deeply and swallowed hard several times before nodding and answering Elektra. "Furball."
Morph's brown eyes shot wide at that, and his gaze darted over to the dark-skinned woman. What the Hell was she doing getting a furball!
