A/N: Sorry for the 2-month-long hiatus between chapters. Work has been nuts, and I haven't had a lot of time to write. But here is chapter 5, so I hope you enjoy. Merry Christmas.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible. It belongs to Disney and its creators. If it was in the show, I don't own it. Any songs mentioned are the property of their respective owners and artists. I am not doing this for compensation, simply for enjoyment and practice.
Claimer: Krista Ruthie Stoppable is my OC. If you want to use her, please ask. Krysta-L (aka Krystal) was created by StormChaser90 and used with permission. If you want to use her, please contact him for permission.
Warning: This chapter contains mild language and some violence.
After All This Time: Revenge
Chapter 5
2 Days Later
Middleton Elementary School, Middleton, Colorado
Kim and Ron pushed through the front doors of the school, urgency spurring them forward. Ten minutes ago, they had received a call from Krista's teacher. Stopping in the front office, the receptionist quickly buzzed them through the door, the teacher already waiting on the other side and wringing her hands.
"Mr. and Mrs. Stoppable. Thank you for coming so quickly." Ms. Tate spoke as she guided them through the hallway. "I don't know what happened. One minute, the class was working in their reading groups, and the next, Krista had run out of the room and locked herself in the bathroom. She won't come out."
The trio stopped in front of the girls' restroom, quickly deciding Kim would go in while Ron waited outside and briefed Ms. Tate on what was going on. The educator had been made aware of Krista's anxiety and PTSD, but had not been updated on the severity of the current situation as of yet.
Kim pushed open the door, the hinges sending a squeak echoing through the room. The sudden noise caused the lone occupant to gasp and a torrent of fresh sobs to erupt.
"No! Leave me alone! Get away!" Krista's harried, terrified voice made Kim wince. She approached the only closed stall door and tentatively knocked.
"Krista, sweetie, it's Mom. Open the door, honey."
"No! They're here! I can't let them find me!"
"Baby, no one is here to hurt you. Please, come out." The only reply was a new round of hyperventilated whimpers. Kim crouched on the floor and peeked under the stall door. Krista had herself pressed into the corner, her legs hugged to her chest. Her face was buried in her arms, and she was shaking terribly. Kim's heart nearly shattered at the sight of her daughter feeling so broken. Sliding herself under the door, Kim approached her child and knelt in front of her, gently pulling her into her arms as she cried. Krista only slightly protested, her mind and body so exhausted that she could not put up much of a fight. Kim stroked her little girl's hair as she held her, wondering how on earth they were going to get through this.
XXXXXXXXXX
The next day, Krista didn't come down stairs for breakfast. Ron found her curled up in her closet in the grip of another panic attack. It took nearly an hour to coax her out, and there was absolutely no way they were letting her go to school in her condition. Krista's fear and anxiety were spiraling out of control, panic attacks hitting her at seemingly random times with unidentified triggers, nightmares keeping her awake half the night. It was after a week of this struggle, that Kim's mother suggested admitting Krista to the psychiatric facility at Middleton General Hospital.
"She needs help, Kimmie. Things are getting worse. She can't keep living like this. You can't keep living like this," Anne explained. Kim pinched the bridge of her nose with one hand, gripping Ron's hand with the other. She took a shaky breath in, letting it out slowly. A few seconds passed before tears began to stream down her face, her body shuddering with all the frustration and worry it had been dealing with as of late. She didn't want to take her daughter to a strange place with strange people that she knew would set her off. But she couldn't keep doing this either – and she knew Krista wasn't going to get better without professional help. She turned to Ron, searching his face for answers.
Ron let out a sigh of his own. "I think this is the best option, Kim. I don't want to do it either, but we can't let her go on like this."
And so the decision was made. The next morning, Krista would be admitted to the Intensive Care Unit in the Psychiatric Ward of Middleton General Hospital.
XXXXXXXXXX
3 Days Later
HenchCo Training Facility, Location Classified
Curious evildoers filed into the cavernous room, taking their seats in metal folding chairs. The makeshift stage at the front of the room was currently empty, but the event was scheduled to start any minute. Anticipation sparked the air. Dr. Drakken and Shego took seats towards the back, wanting to keep a low profile. They had not done much mingling since "The Incident," and preferred to keep to themselves.
Finally, the high-pitched screech of microphone feedback resounded throughout the room, causing several to wince, but effectively quieting the hum of conversation and turning the gathered villains' attention to the stage. Jack Hench, dressed in a dapper business suit, appeared from behind a curtain.
"Welcome, villains and evildoers alike!" Hench's voice echoed, a note of excitement apparent. "We have a very exciting demonstration for you today. I know you are all curious about the origins and abilities of the world's most dangerous bioweapon. Before we begin the demonstration, I would like to introduce to you the creative and cruel minds behind the project. Please welcome Thomas Moore and his research team!"
A smattering of applause came from the audience as Thomas, several of his top scientists, and Fukushima took the stage. Andrea stood near the back, prepared to do her part in unveiling Thomas's greatest creation. Thomas and Jack shook hands, the former taking possession of the microphone. He turned to face his audience, a feeling of power and confidence prompting him to stand up taller.
"Welcome, all. I'm sure most of you do not know who I am, so allow me to introduce myself. My name is Thomas Moore, and this is my wife, Andrea." Thomas paused and gestured to his wife, who gave a gracious wave to the onlookers. "For over a decade, my team and I have been researching and developing the bioweapon you will see unveiled today. Our goal was to create the perfect genetically engineered soldier – strong, obedient, powerful, unstoppable. After many trials and countless research tests, we have finally succeeded. The soldier you will see today is proficient in 7 styles of kung-fu and with a variety of firearms; has mastered training in stealth, electronic wiring, computer hacking, and evasion tactics; and portrays a level of obedience unmatched by any henchman or soldier in the business."
A few of the gathered villains checked their watches and yawned. They had already learned all of this information from the ad. Sensing that he was losing his audience, Thomas decided to build towards to biggest reveal of all.
"But perhaps most exciting and unique of all is Prototype-L's origin." Several people perked up, their curiosity piqued. Thomas gestured to his wife, who nodded and pulled back the thick black curtain. Krystal, dressed in her black combat suit, stepped forward, her arms folded behind her back.
Gasps and murmurs rang throughout the room.
"Kim Possible!"
"What is she doing here?"
"Is this a set-up?"
Thomas held up his hands, attempting to quiet the stunned crowd. "Now, now, I assure you this is not a set-up. As many of you have deduced, Prototype-L has an uncanny resemblance to crime fighter Kim Possible. And you would be correct. Prototype-L, nicknamed by our scientists 'Krystal,' was developed from tissue and blood samples gathered from a relation to Miss Possible… her own daughter, Krista Ruthie Stoppable."
More murmurs echoed throughout the room. A few began to put two-and-two together.
"Ah, so yer the ones who kidnapped the lass," Duff Killigan shouted from somewhere in the middle of the crowd. Several around him nodded with approval. It took guts to go up against Possible and Stoppable in such a way. In fact, it was even more impressive that the Moores were alive to tell the tale.
"You would be correct. While Krista was in our… care, we procured samples of her DNA to design and create Krystal. As such, Krystal possess the best of the Possible/Stoppable genes: Miss Possible's proficiency in fighting and stealth, as well as Mr. Stoppable's highly coveted and unique Mystical Monkey Powers." The room was silent as Thomas's last statement was processed by the crowd. The silence was broken by calls and demands for a demonstration, the villains eager to see what the clone could do.
Thomas had to shout to be heard among the cacophony. "Without further ado, I present to you the world's most dangerous bioweapon, Krystal!"
The research team moved out of the way as Krystal took center stage. An electronic buzz sounded, signaling the start of the demonstration. A target shot up from somewhere under the makeshift stage. Krystal smoothly produced a pistol from the belt around her waist, turned to face the target, and fired, the bullet creating a smoldering hole in the center of the target. A henchman from Fukushima's training guard launched at Krystal from behind. She sidestepped, gracefully evading being tackled, grabbing the man by the scruff of his neck and throwing him across the stage. More henchmen, who had been strategically placed throughout the audience, advanced towards the stage, armed with everything from pistols to tasers to knives. Krystal was soon engaged in a fierce battle with a dozen men nearly three times her size, yet fought with an agility unmatched by anyone the potential bidders had ever seen. She hissed as one of the men landed a blow, her side being sliced open by the blade he wielded. She kicked the weapon out of his hand and landed several blows of her own before backflipping several yards away. She closed her eyes, a soft, blue glow appearing around her wound as she focused her powers on healing it. The audience murmured with wonder and approval. Once healed, Krystal allowed the glow to encompass her entire body, levitating for a moment in the air before slamming down on the floor. The shockwave caused the group of approaching guards to be thrown back, and those in the front rows to topple as well. With the initial group of guards out of the way, Fukushima jumped into the fray.
As trainer and student parried, Thomas narrated, "As you can see, Krystal easily dispensed with a group of highly trained guards. Though injured in battle, Krystal has the ability to quickly heal nearly any injury – including multiple broken bones. The final part of our demonstration will feature Krystal going head-to-head with her trainer – the highly skilled and deadly Fukushima."
After months of intense training, Krystal was able to hold her own against her mentor. As the fight went on, though, a mysterious ache began building in her chest. She focused harder on her attacks, attempting to drown out the niggling discomfort. The ache began to spread, and soon morphed into a blinding pain affecting several parts of her body. Krystal's movements slowed, and Fukushima landed several critical blows before she finally collapsed onto her hands and knees. She heaved, coughing up blood. The crowd gasped, startled, before the research team quickly surrounded their project, blocking her from the view of the distraught audience and ushering her backstage. Jack Hench took the center, reassuring the potential bidders that this was just a minor setback and the demonstration would continue momentarily.
Krystal was sat on a folding chair in the wings, clutching her chest and trying to control her breathing as two of the scientists check her vitals and perform tests. Several minutes passed before the dizziness subsided and she was able to breathe normally again, the pain diminishing back to an ache. Thomas Moore waited impatiently for a verdict, unhappy with how this mishap tarnished his image.
Finally, Dr. Henderson gathered his team and approached the Moores, ignoring their project as she continued to attempt to recover from the mysterious episode.
"Well?!" Thomas asked.
Henderson sighed. "I'm afraid it's bad news, sir."
"What do you mean, 'bad news?' How bad?"
Henderson glanced at the other scientists, shifting his weight nervously. "It seems there was an error when her genes were cloned – one that went unnoticed in our summative tests. Her organs are slowly deteriorating."
"Well, get her to heal herself, and let's get moving! The bidders won't wait forever."
"Sir, you don't understand. This kind of damage to her organs can't be healed by her powers. It's irreparable. She doesn't have that capability."
Understanding dawned on Thomas. He growled in frustration and kicked over a nearby chair. He paced, smoothing his hair back with both hands. He took a few deep, calming breaths before returning to the group. "So we're back to square one."
"Not entirely," Henderson said. "Prototype-L was a nearly perfect clone. This small error can be corrected. We can use the information from her to design Prototype-M, ensuring there is no such error in the genes."
"How quickly can research and development start?"
Henderson looked at his watch and some notes on the clipboard he was holding. "At the rate her organs are deteriorating, we will be able to start within the week."
Unbeknownst to the group, Thomas's outburst had drawn Krystal's attention. She sat, her mouth drawn in a line, her mind processing what she was hearing. They were already making plans for her successor.
They were going to let her die.
She stood, stalking towards the group. "You're not going to fix me? You're just going to let me waste away and decay, like some piece of trash?"
Henderson patted her shoulder, not noticing the menace tinging her tone. "Don't worry, my dear. You will live on in your next iteration. You will still be vital to our research going forward."
Krystal was silent, a red film sliding over her vision.
"Like hell I will be."
The group had only a moment to process before a cry of sheer rage ripped from Krystal's throat. Bolts of pure energy burst out from her, causing those around to take cover under anything they could find. Krystal reached out, grabbing one of the scientists by the back of the neck and giving it a sharp twist. A loud crack resounded as the man fell to the floor, unmoving, his neck at an odd angle. The sight of the research team scattering like cowards enraged her even further. She screamed once again, the energy bursts tearing through the room. The curtain that separated the audience from the backstage area ripped to shreds, giving the villains in the room a clear view of violence about the ensue. Krystal stomped one foot hard on the floor, sending a shockwave throughout the facility. A crack began to form in the concrete floor and slowly climb up the wall. The force of the shockwave sent many in the near vicinity sprawling. Krystal unleashed the full level of her rage, taking down anyone who got in her path. She retrieved her pistol, firing several quick shots which lodged themselves in their targets' heads – a perfect bullseye for her. One unfortunate scientist attempted to disarm her, only to be rewarded with a blade in the stomach. Krystal kicked the dying researcher out of her way, bent on reaching her next target: Thomas Moore.
The businessman was flustered, looking this way and that for a way out of the facility. Krystal began advancing towards him, viciously cutting down the guards that attempted to subdue her. Just as she was about to reach her creator, she was kicked from behind. Krystal stood, turning to face her attacker. Fukushima assumed a defensive stance.
"Stand down, Imposter," he ordered.
Krystal narrowed her bi-colored eyes, her hatred for her trainer bubbling to the surface. "I don't take orders from you anymore." Fukushima yelled, attacking Krystal with a ferocity that could only be fueled by pure hatred. Krystal easily blocked his attacks, spurred on by a hatred of her own. Fukushima landed a blow to her kidneys, causing Krystal to stumble forward. With a war cry, Krystal turned, blue waves of energy bursting from her body and shredding throughout the facility. Fukushima was thrown back as pieces of the building began to crumble around him. The panicked crowd began to disperse, looking for escape routes of their own.
As an alarm started to blare, Krystal approached her former trainer, now pinned underneath a support beam. Fukushima pushed himself up, twisting around to try to pull his leg out from under the chunk of steel. As the dust around him cleared, he caught sight of Krystal coming towards him. A cold fear shot up his spine – he was defenseless trapped like this. Krystal stopped in front of him.
"Go ahead, Imposter. Kill me."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Krystal sneered. "For me to end your misery quickly. Well, to hell with that. I'm going to give you a taste of your own medicine."
Fukushima only had moments to meditate on his fate before Krystal brought her superpowered foot crashing down on his spine. Bones cracked as an agonized cry ripped through the damaged facility.
Krystal leaned down close to Fukushima's ear. "Now you'll know what it felt like to be 'trained' by you. And you'll have to live with your mistake for the rest of your miserable life." She turned, surveying the facility. Bodies and debris littered the ground, but there was no sign of the Moores. Rage bubbled up once again – she was robbed of her chance for revenge against her creators. As she made her way to an exit of her own, the sight of a white lab jacket caught her eye. Dr. Henderson was still alive, though injured, crawling towards a discarded pistol. Krystal intercepted the scientist, her foot slamming down on his hand, cracking several bones. Dr. Henderson yowled, clutching his broken hand. Krystal picked up the pistol and aimed it at the scientist.
"Who's dead now?" she asked, her voice deadpan. Her finger moved to squeeze the trigger –
"Stop!"
Krystal's head whipped around in the direction of the interloper. A pair she had never met walked towards her, the man slowly applauding, a smile spread across his face.
Krystal's face contorted with confusion. "Who are you?"
The man stopped several yards from her, keeping a safe distance between himself and this deadly weapon. "My name is Dr. Drakken. And you, my dear, have put on quite an impressive show."
Krystal turned back to Dr. Henderson, baring her teeth. "This wasn't part of the show. They were going to let me die."
Drakken waves his hand dismissively, as if that fact had no bearing on the matter at hand. "Still, your skills are quite impressive. So impressive, that I have a proposition for you."
Wary, Krystal looked at the villain again. "What kind of proposition?"
"How would you like to come back to our lair and work for me?"
Krystal turned back to the cowering scientist, the gun still aimed at his head. "Haven't you heard? I'm an error." She stepped closer to Henderson, causing him to shrink back from her.
Shego walked around to the other side of her, distracting her momentarily from her kill shot. "You have potential, kid. Drakken could come up with a way to cure whatever is going on."
Krystal paused, mulling this over. She faced Drakken again. "You think you could do it?"
"I do. However, it would be beneficial to leave this gentleman alive. He has crucial knowledge of your anatomy that could prove useful to our research of a cure."
Krystal growled, facing the scientist once again. "He doesn't deserve to live."
"That may be, but you can't deny that he could be useful," Drakken reasoned.
Krystal wasn't stupid – she knew this man was right. Begrudgingly, she lowered the gun, tossing it aside. "Fine. But I want him under lock and key the entire time. And when this is over, I get to do away with him."
Drakken gave a mock bow. "Of course."
Krystal closed her eyes, a blue glow surrounding her as she focused her energy on slowing down the rate of deterioration in her organs. She couldn't stop it, but she could at least buy herself more time.
"Shall we?" Drakken led Krystal to their transport, Shego following behind with the injured scientist in tow.
