A/N: Becki, I love you. ;m; I was so upset nobody had commented – it stung so much. And yes, I was referring to Sleeper Agent! I'd forgotten the title (I should sleep more lol). While I do have some issues with it, I think it's a pretty alright ZADR story that, if anything, gave an awesome depiction of a minor character and had some pretty kinky smut in it. Folks, I say check it out if you have time and want some hawtness/pretty good plot building/a super awesome sick villain (however, note that it's rated M for a good reason, kiddies). (BTW Becki, were you referring to how I visualized Zim as in just how I write him, or that paragraph describing his derpy attire? Either's rocking. I'm just curious. :P)
And at Chapter four, we've arrived at where I'd last anticipated Chapter two to end! :D I really overestimated my packing ability, eh? Well, I guess it's not all bad. I don't particularly like this chapter, but I'm sure you're all used to hearing that by now. Whelp. Off to the races we go, kiddies!
"Oh, now he's leaving me, doc! What kinda sick world lets-"
Click.
"-I LOVE my mamma! But I still wish-"
Click.
"-d it's fifty PERCENT off-"
Click.
"-I'm NEVER gonna get to go to the prom like this, Rudolph! I can'-"
Click.
"-elcome Truth Seekers, to Mysterious Mysteries of Strange Mystery! Tonight, we've got a true, harrowing case on our hands. A case of sensitivity, trauma, and of deep, deep mystery. As you may have already learned, within the last week, five children have gone missing in a manner similar to the twenty one isolated cases spaced far apart over the last six years, and our sources at the scene suspect two more have been added to the recent count. Here, you can see the attire of what appears to be an adult, and a blue scarf belonging to yet another child. We've beaten the press to this case, and already questions are piling up. What led to this change in the target age demographic? Why did this man's coat have a whoopee cushion in it? Where did this kid's body go? Truth is, WE HAVE NO CLUE! THERE ARE NO LEADS OR WITNESSES OR EVEN ANY TRACKS! IT'S JUST US FREEZING OUT HERE IN CRAPPY, COMPANY-COMISSIONED COATS, WAVING CAMERAS AROUND THESE PUNCTURED CLOTHING ARTICLES, GETTING A BUCK OFF THE ENTERTAINMENT VALUE OF THESE DEAD KIDS! THIS IS AN ENTERTAINMENT NETWORK – DIDN'T THE SUPERVISOR KNOW HOW SENSITIVE AN ISSUE THIS WAS?! IT JUST HAPPENED! PARENTS ARE TRAUMATIZED BECAUSE THEIR KIDS ARE MISSING! WE CAN'T COVER THIS WITH DIGNITY! WHO'S IDEA WAS THIS?! I-"
Click.
The TV screen emptied.
Gaz was already heading towards the door, baseball-bat prepped and winter coat swathed around her shoulders. Dad would be home tomorrow, and by that point she'd imagined both of them would want an indication as to why Dib's scarf was on TV.
(-)
White hissed out between Zim's teeth. He'd reached it, the base of the abyss.
Stairs were long gone now. Metallic walls directed the Invader deep through the bowels, vents rattling like skin. Absent the tunnel was of natural light, illuminated instead by the high-beams pouring from Minimoose's eyeballs. While Zim's ocular implants gave him advanced vision within the dark, the impairment didn't bode well with him, murk still present where a normal viewpoint would've seen utter blackness. If his eyes were compromised, sensors in his PAK could be utilized to guide his way of course, but these kinda sucked and didn't provide much confidence to the shaken Irken.
He clutched the cold, though decidedly soft automation close to his sternum, apprehensive, eager, and somewhat sick between the two emotions as the doors ahead drew nearer and nearer still. Confrontation was upon him, he could feel it in his bones. One last fight here, then things would return to normal.
…Well, he hoped things would return to normal.
…At the very least, he'd certainly get revenge.
That said, the events of floor 66 still arched along his mind, as was the feeling he was being corralled into yet another trap. Detestable were these cage-like walls – after what'd happened in the elevator, everything in building felt about as trustworthy as Dib's sneer. Those dead faces crawled right under his eyelids, scraping through his vision whenever he blinked. The Irken assured himself it was all a tasteless game, organized by whatever doomed creature was calling the shots(Tak or no), and while this did lessen impact it all held… Part of him seriously wondered why he'd felt so sick back there.
It… It'd been like something had practically slipped into his PAK without notice. There was no evidence, but the feeling was there, similar to an erased pencil line on an otherwise clean paper. A groove in his awareness, that someway, somehow, a pair of those eyes had burst through his retinas, travelled through his skull, down his spine, and into his memories – only stopping within the utter nethermost of the pit where all the bad information was comfortably kept repressed. There, the feeling had lapped up the worst words it could find for its own amusement, and had echoed its discoveries out through the human mouths shrouding him… Through buzzing, soft, grating, FUCKING monotone…
"Nyeh."
Zim realized just how tightly he'd been squeezing and eased the pressure on the poor robot. "G-Gyah, apologies Minimoose. I just… this place…" he growled, though with a note of an apologetic tone, "It's messing with Zim… I'm gonna blow it up when I'm done. For retribution's sake! For… GYAH! It's-It's just not right, Minimoose! None of this is!"
Something else crawling into his mind… Zim had heard tales during earlier years, of Meekrob swarms who'd compromised armies upon armies of Irkens through such techniques. Made him feel quite crawly inside at the notion of it happening to him. Confused. Angry. Fearful… Zim wasn't even allowed into the innermost caverns of his mind, what gave some stupid opponents the right?
He forced ease on his nerves before stopping at the doors regardless. Great things, they were. Eight feet tall and built of reinforced steel. Locked, no doubt.
"Nyeh."
He looked down to Minimoose.
"The reading's beyond this point, you say?"
"Nyeh-heh."
Zim managed a slight grin.
One bit of C-4 and a rocketing set of doors later, Zim exited his hiding place in one of the vents, and charged in with a ferocious battle cry.
Only to find no audience waiting.
The green menace lowered his plasma rifle and frowned. He wasn't sure what he'd expected when he entered the lab. Perhaps various cells, jam-packed with the roaring corpses of humans. Fogged up glass, bloody floors. Maybe rows of suspension pods, filled with murky fluid and mutating figures. Dirty medical equipment and soiled operation tables… Maybe the zombies just wandered around, minding their own business while bumbling into things, skins peeling and guts rolling along behind them.
He'd expected the smell of rotten flesh and his promised foe, at least. No such thing.
Mostly familiar darkness wreathed him still – a blinking lightbulb sputtered somewhere in the distance, exposing the simple space every two seconds before dousing again. A graveyard of gurneys and medical equipment cluttered about. No gore littered them. No entrails, no blood. Just… Dust.
Dust everywhere, all over the massive chamber. It almost covered the obvious struggle that'd occurred some time ago.
Mid-walk, his boot intentionally brushed some aside to reveal the floor, like a bride's veil. Scar-like claw marks tore through the tiles like butter. Bullet holes, disturbed plaster, and smashed glass scattered along haphazardly. A glance up exposed the broken pipes dangling from the ceiling, sliced apart, bleeding bits of muddy water across the area. On a wall were several devastated computers smashed apart, and the rows of isolation chambers that stood with their structures cracked, spilling dark fluids across the tiled ground.
No current human experimentations. No zombies. No goat clones. No scientists. Not a soul.
A glance to the left gave him full view of a large security uniform, draped over a gurney. Torn utterly to shreds. From a glance, Zim already knew who's it was…
…But where was Rankle's murderer…?
"Minimoose, you're certain the creature's here?" he asked again. The robot gave a nervous squeak and bobbed up and down in his hands. Zim grimaced, looking frantically everywhere he could. Water dripped. Vents rattled. The one, available computer hummed away…
This sucked…!
"Minimoose, load all the data from the working terminal and gather any substances they have for the raising-the-dead-stuff," Zim unhanded the levitating robot and cocked the rifle, "I know you're here, you stupid Dib killer! FACE ME!"
There. A sound.
The gun whirred, Zim darted his gaze around. Minimoose squeaked nervously from where wires plugged into his underbelly, growing quickly immobile as its eyes flooded with scrolling codes. Zim's confusion passed quickly once he remembered, that due to issues involving GIR's existence, both robots were designed to be totally dormant during data downloads. Zim winced, realizing how completely alone he was for this fight. He needed to be completely on guard, for both their sakes…
The floor shook. A rumbling noise! There it was again!
Breathing turning irregular, the Invader cautiously stepped forward. Where… Where was it coming from?!
He tore his wig off, letting his antenna register the noises more efficiently.
More rumbling…!
It was…
His feet couldn't move.
Why couldn't his feet move.
He snapped his attention to below. The floor directly beneath Zim was bubbling and melting into itself.
"AIIEEEEEE!" he squawked, fighting to free his soles, but no such luck as the mire claimed him. Despite everything, right under him, cement liquefied and began forcing his ankles to plunge on through. Rumbling fazed through his toes and right through his veins, spilling over his senses and any composure he'd held. Zim fought but could not free himself of the substance crawling over his clothes, hyperventilating as he sunk down and down at an exponential pace. Against everything, writhing, he let out a scream for help, but before he knew it his hips had slid through and a cold blackness had completely swallowed his head.
Down he fell, unable to breathe, unable to feel, slipping down the unstable substances rapidly as a rush of vertigo seized him. Blood roared between his temples, his PAK legs useless in the vortex of shifting matter.
Air suddenly skated on past during his decent, and the world filled with red light as he fell to the dirt with a dull thud, covered in gross adhesive.
Wheezing, Zim jumped to his feet(fighting the dizziness that'd claimed his skull. Fuck you, dizziness! This was ZIM!) looking around expectantly while doing his best to shake the soggy cement off like an indignant dog.
This place was… Different, to say the least. Sprawling out right next to the alien was a massive summoning circle radiating from the earth, the sort most try-hard goths would've only dreamed of needling onto their backs. It was bursting with all manner of wonky shapes and incantations, shedding a bright scarlet through their lines, which cast intense shadow over spaces where it couldn't reach. No doubt bathed the entire front of Zim in a lovely, demonic red hue. Judging from the size, it must've been almost half a kilometer in scale and volume, drawn into barren earth with sticks and the like… Something was crude about the lines in the center, though, as if a child had drawn portions of it. This circle rested at the bottom of a great chamber, with great, sloping earthen walls that had bizarre blast marks shrouding them.
Overhead, the mall rested thirty feet atop these walls, barren of any cracks spare a decent-sized hole marking Zim's entrance. The whole building sealed this area from the surface quite effectively otherwise. Around the circle were crumbling bouts of rock sticking out from the ground that looked suspiciously like graves…
What probably was more interesting, however, was the great beast gasping in the center of the circle.
Well over nine feet in height. Beside it rested a giant, red sack that reminded Zim of Santa (before the liquid Vortian-suit nightmare, anyway). Its flesh was goopy and unnaturally charred in colour, giving the impression of literally melting from its bones. The skull curved down, full of sharp, clearly defined teeth, and a pair of great horns twisted out its crown. Enormous, clawed hands dug into the ground (phasing right through the lines), and a long, jutting line of vertebrae arched up, a tined tail twisting through the air. Trembling were a pair of miss-matched feet – a huge hoof and a crooked set of human toes.
A set of focusing, violet eyes locked on the alien. The voice that left it was deep and snide.
"We-hell… If... If it isn't the littlest Invader!" it somehow wheezed and crooned at once, surprisingly enough, "We meet in person again! I hoped you enjoyed the trip here to get here, as much as I enjoyed your… So very, very rude interruption from last time..."
"What… What ARE you?" asked Zim, rifle readied, "I-I killed you! How are you still alive?! What is this, you disgusting goat?! Did you initiate all this? Why did you compromise the Dib?! Did you kill Slab?! Were you the one who sicked those horrible, plastic offspring abominations on me?! TELL ZIM THESE THINGS!"
The thing laughed. "Did... You know, you're the sixth creature this week to refer to me as a goat? No real point in correcting you all by this juncture, I suppose…"
"ANSWER ZIM, YOU REPULSIVE STINKBEAST!"
"Heh, alright space bug. To solve your first and last questions, I am something far greater than either you or that trainwreck, Dib…" he spoke the name like one would a repulsive disease, "…Could ever dream of amounting to. It'll take more than some guns and a cursed stake to get rid of me, I can tell you that much. It was thanks to me, you got to enjoy those little 'festivities' from earlier. Excavating into the souls of others to tally their sins is somewhat of a trade of mine, and credit where it's due, digging right into your sick little core took a fair share of magic. Lot of layers to go through, for such a short-fry… Heh-heh. Lucky for me, intuition saved the day, and my 'puppets' were enough to entice that lovely trauma to surface somewhat. You've got a lot of blood on your hands, space bug. Your society is a fresh breath of air from all these brats I've eaten," it grinned in a fashion that forced that awful sick feeling through Zim again.
The creature continued in an almost purr. "I saw enough. You're not one of those human worms. Hell, you don't even have a family at all. You've come all this way across the stars to drown this world in ash, right? You're a killer of your own kind, a destroyer of just about everything you touch, and burier of any reality that's 'too painful' to face. You can't even feel remorse for most things you break, either. Still, you're constantly swamped by dreams and emotions. ... Defective's the magic word your people use, right? Damn shame you've gone this long without appropriate cilice… Well, if these 'Tallest' guys won't punish you directly, I'll step in for 'em."
The evaluation on Zim's profile did not faze him. It was the mention of his leaders that caused his body to tense up like hardening glass. Antenna tips brushed the back of his neck, their stalks flattened right against his skull.
"H-How did you kn-?!" he started, before the beast cut him off.
"I see everything you humdrum individuals hide in your closets. It's not that hard," it casually commented. The monster's limbs unwound from the earth, and it slowly began roaming the curved edge of the circle with a methodical pace. It was hunched over, and the alien noted what appeared to be what seemed to be a stake lodged in its ribs, skin pulsating around the wound, "You learn about what you need to destroy. I learn about what I need to consume. Your leader figures come up a lot in your core, and that's all there is to that. Obviously, I've never eaten a child from Irk before… But, hey. First time for everything, right?"
Zim gave a sneer at this. Guess the goat really didn't know everything, after all… "Feh-heh! Shows what you know, foolish eyesore. I am no child!" he aimed the weapon, "You are dealing with an elite, filth. A full-fledged adult!"
A great laugh scraped from the beast. "Oh-ho, you're sure of that, are you?" at this, some slimy appendage tapped Zim behind his head, much like one would pet a dog, before vanishing without a trace once the Irken hastily turned. "I'll let you believe what you want then, sprout. Not my body, not my brain, not my problem."
And then the sneer was gone. Something. Something about those words stuck inside Zim's head, clanging again and again behind his retinas. It was like a stack of building blocks, left to wobble upon having a lower component removed. Confusion rolled through him, trying to end itself by summoning some sort of answer as to what was even implied so it could cease, but nothing seemed to come up, leaving it writhe in unwilling liveliness around inside his skull.
"…W-What do you mean by that?" he demanded.
The monster cocked its head. "Heh. Wouldn't an elite like you know?"
"Stop eluding me!" Zim screeched, firing the rifle. The creature's eyes widened... But then the circle lit up, triggering some invisible field ate the weapon fire upon impact, forcing the sizzling pink beam into the nothingness of its wall.
The creature dropped its petrified expression and burst out laughing again. "Well! To answer the next questions in no real order, yes, I finally killed that delusional bozo and all the unfortunate zombies he helped force into existence. Rankle put up a hell of a fight, but as far as I'm concerned, it was a mercy purging. He's been a thorn in my side too long, trying to smite me whenever I tried to leave…" he cursed, "Not like the other humans I-"
"That is NOT the current question! Did you just imply Zim's not an adult?!"
"I'm ignoring you, kid, what's it look like?" snickered the beast. Another appendage-thing swiped itself against the back of the Invader's knees, forcing him to fall on his rear. This time, he could've sworn he saw a swipe of black, but not much else, "You shouldn't interrupt folks who're taller than you while they're talking."
Those eyes flashed a dangerous red, and all around Zim, a mess of black tendrils suddenly rose from the circle lines and ensnared him like a net, digging into his skin to render everything under it useless.
No, seriously. He literally couldn't budge a muscle besides his head. His PAK legs were trapped. The scourge of Irk yelled and tried to thrash, but nothing would give to his struggling.
The thing released a slightly strained hiss. "…Good boy. Aw, don't be upset! I'm just trying to make this place more like home for you! Speaking of, what 'this', is, is your grave, by the way. I hope it's to your taste, kid!"
"I WILL END YOU!" roared the Invader, "LISTEN WELL, BECAUSE YOUR EARS WILL BE THE FIRST TO BE SLICED OFF! I WILL YANK YOUR SPINE OUT OF IT'S PLACE AND FORCE YOU TO EAT IT WHOLE! ZIM WO-!"
A tendril slapped over his lips, effectively gagging him.
"…And why did I rip through your human plaything like tissue paper in a mad dash for his everlasting soul? Well… …That requires some backstory to explain, doesn't it? Too bad it doesn't concern you, space bug. I assure you, though. The reason I've risen again is almost exclusively that boy's sin, and he completely deserved what I was about to do. And furthermore, his life is none of your business."
The creature closer went to the edge of the circle, scowling with its back turned to the Irken. "To think. After seven damn years, I finally found the strength to leave this stupid circle for longer than a few hours. Then you two happened. A cursed stake? Bad enough. Plasma shots from space kid? Pfft. That'll never kill, but it doesn't bode well on the old bones, either… Oh well. Dinner's coming up, and I'm about ready to ditch anyway…" he still didn't turn, "Say, bug? You like killing things, right?"
Zim sat immobile in confusion. He'd certainly like to kill the monster sitting thirty feet away right then and there, if possible.
"Heh. Well, remember those slabs of metal all throughout this building on the sunroofs from each floor?"
The tendril still held fast, so Zim just glared in response.
"Guess I could just show you. Think it's time you learn firsthand why I had them made."
Light cackled in the beast's closed palm, and with a breath on its knuckles a glowing ball travelled out the grip. Slowly, it hovered over to the wall, and once there it divided into several flat, oval, portal-like things. Ninety nine of them, Zim's PAK automatically relayed, each focused on a floor of the mall, spare of course the empty 66th. He noticed his Voot and oddly enough no Keef on the roof, and several humans partying in every other image.
Then, the monster raised its arms. Suddenly, those metal slabs started sparking. Some folks didn't notice. Some did. One crazy hobo took this as a sign of Armageddon and leapt from the second story balcony. Some kids tried to use it to light up their sparklers, as they were too uncoordinated to operate proper lighters. Some young adults cheered at the rad lighting. Some skeptics raised their brows, but kept on grinding across the dancefloor anyhow.
Then the screaming started.
Brilliant light flooded these floors, a practical rainbow of pulsating waves flooding the building as all the humans in it started crumbling apart. Bones slipped through bubbling skin and voices warbled unnaturally into otherworldly hollers. Marking they'd existed at all were pools of that damned dust and scattering clothes, and suddenly it hit Zim that the increasing frequency of those colours were the souls being ripped from all the individuals throughout the entire vicinity. Reds. Oranges. Blues. Purples. Greens. Pinks. Blacks. Whites. Yellows. Too many shades in between for the PAK to bother calculating, all slipping into one another and rippling in unwilling union.
Bursting through the hole he'd fallen through, the vortex of colours burst on down, funneling like a cyclone into the summoning circle. The creature laughed and laughed in the cascade of souls, drawing the power into itself. Its spine was still turned to Zim, the silhouetted bones in it slowly creeping upwards in size.
It took Zim a minute to even process that the tendrils weren't holding him anymore. "H-How are you doing all this?!"
"You interrupted the complete removal of Dib Membrane's life," the colour began slipping under the normalizing, black skin of the creature, "And on top of leading a sinful existence yourself, you seek to resuscitate that selfish, misbegotten and unnatural child. And, you tried to blow me up!"
Zim swallowed and brought himself to his feet. His knees were squared and ready to lunge forward at any second. "T-This doesn't add up!" he shouted, "Those traps were on every floor! You must've seen me coming! What stopped you from activating the traps earlier when I was in range, filth?!"
It purred in thought for a moment.
"To be honest…?" cracking. Popping and cracking, the neck dislodged as the head began twisting its chin up. And up. And up, and over until that smile crunched upside-down, sneering at him. "Because I was saving you for last!"
A stab of movement, the thing lunged and Zim's whole torso was squeezed of air. Dangled like a screaming kitten, he was ripped from gravity by the mobile vertebrae exiting the loop that wrapped around him as if it were a ribbon, and found himself dragged closer towards the vibrant vacuum of harvested life, forced to watch the teeth of the creature open wide for a long, delighted cackle.
"N-NRGGH-N-NO!" he squealed, light getting closer. His PAK legs were helpless under this pressure, "RELEASE ME! RELEASE ZIM RIGHT NOW O-OR YOU'LL-!"
"FWEH-HEHEH! I'll what, space bug?!" just to spite Zim, the clasp tightened – the homicidal pipsqueak yelped at the pressure building on his bones. With a turn to accommodate its body to the direction it faced, beast slowly carried him closer, "Do enlighten! What does the 'mighty' Zim have in his arsenal capable of stopping one such as I?!"
"YOU'LL SUFFER! YOU'LL SUFFER ZIM'S WRATH! I'LL…" the sparks were getting too close, the snout was getting too close, "I'LL… …I'll…!"
The neck leaned forward. A hush of hot breath fell over his face.
"Finally learn your damn place, Glitch."
Zim was yanked right into the light.
It went right into his molecules, serrating everything with intense heat. He felt himself scattering apart despite everything he did, despite all his wriggling and kicking and gasping and screaming it wouldn't stop, he couldn't even hear his own shrieking, it wouldn't STOP
He thought he saw something scarlet coming off him but his vision was so blurred he couldn't tell. All he could register was the agony of his body crumbling apart in the grasp of the snickering demon, guffawing away like this was the funniest thing in the whole, goddamn world.
A/N: I always hated lighters as a kid. Did anyone else? I mean, I can operate them alright now, but back then, as much as I tried those dang things just wouldn't obey my sweet little thumbs. Man, I'd get those lines in my pads and the skin would hurt and there'd be nothing to show for it. Just awful. Either way, I'm kinda sad I killed Rankle. Part of me did want him to live, but nothing I could think of made much sense. I guess my crack ship between him and Sergeant Hobo was never meant to be... Though I also shipped Rankle and Bill, so I guess they can hook up in crazy-people heaven while Sergeant Hobo can meet up with Sizz-Lorr and form a "Zim is the worst person to ever exist ever" club while kicking ass and making out on the side.
...Yes, I'm aware I have a problem.
...Regardless, I did it. The villain's properly introduced! *lame streamers* Hope its intimidating and shit... Now, it's been quickly brought to my attention that it seems like a game-breakingly super powerful motherfucker here that'd put most juvenile Sonic fancharacters to shame, but trust me; there's a good reason why it'd seem that way by this juncture.
...
*Sigh* I'm gonna get chilly reception, aren't I? Darn it. Exit's over there, I guess. 3: Hope you liked everything up to this point. Byeeeeeeee...
…And uh, yeah. Cliff-hangers.
…Well, in the words of Super Mario, "See you next time! :D"